100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? Chapter 547 - Gift

Lucien detected an anomaly. It began subtly, but soon, the recurring pattern became impossible to dismiss as mere chance. The focus of this unusual circumstance was Lilith. Months prior, she had attained the Eternal Realm, a feat achieved under duress while deep within the void, thus preventing her attendance at the Celestial Feast. Upon her return, Lucien had offered his congratulations, or so he believed. He then introduced her to Virel and Aniel, his parents, who were delighted to make her acquaintance. Subsequently, Lucien introduced her to Seraphine. This introduction marked a turning point. Eirene and Seraphine naturally formed a friendship, and Vivian also found common ground with Seraphine. The elemental women had, in their unique way, accepted her, and even those anticipating discomfort found Seraphine's presence surprisingly agreeable. Lilith, however, started to actively avoid her. If Seraphine appeared in Lootwell, Lilith suddenly found herself occupied with urgent tasks. Should Seraphine extend her stay, Lilith would busy herself inspecting a branch. If Seraphine joined a social gathering, Lilith would claim pressing construction adjustments were needed. When Seraphine visited the central office, Lilith would already be en route to another region, rapidly establishing a new market hall with astonishing speed. To be fair, Lootwell saw significant benefits. The expansion of its branches accelerated as Lilith seemingly processed her emotional turmoil through architectural endeavors. One particular day, she constructed an entire branch structure from sunrise to sunset. Kael, observing the completed plaza, remarked with genuine merchant sincerity, "I support whatever mood caused this." Lucien, upon hearing this report, did not laugh. It wasn't that the situation lacked humor, but rather that he finally grasped its significance. He was no longer as oblivious as he once was. Seraphine had diligently instructed him on such matters, often looking at him as if he were a patient with exceptional talent but one incurable social deficiency. He had learned enough to discern when someone was not simply engaged in work. Lilith was evading Seraphine because of him. The instant this realization dawned upon him, several past interactions reconfigured in his memory. He recalled how Lilith worked with increased fervor after his praise, how she sometimes averted her gaze when he thanked her too directly, how her silence around him never felt distant but rather contained, and how she treated every task he assigned not merely as a duty but as confirmation of her place beside him. Lucien sighed. Then he sighed again. And for good measure, as the universe seemed intent on complicating his personal life beyond the theoretical complexities of abyssal timelines, he sighed a third time. He knew. Or at least, he harbored a strong suspicion. Lilith harbored feelings for him, perhaps more than mere fondness. The uncertainty of when these feelings began only exacerbated the situation. ••• Seraphine realized it too. Of course, she did. Lucien had come to understand that Seraphine possessed an acute awareness of nearly everything concerning people—their physical states, their health, their expressions, their habits, their hidden vulnerabilities, their emotional evasions, and their inconvenient truths. This insight was a primary reason for her formidable skill as a physician. One evening, after Lilith departed a meeting shortly after Seraphine's arrival, Seraphine turned to Lucien and inquired, "Did you at least give her a gift?" Lucien blinked in response. "For what?" Seraphine simply stared at him. Lucien slowly sensed an impending danger. "For reaching the Eternal Realm," Seraphine stated calmly. Lucien's mouth opened, then closed, before he replied, "I congratulated her." Seraphine's expression remained unchanged, which somehow made the situation worse. "You congratulated her," she echoed. Lucien nodded cautiously. Seraphine sighed. "My man." "Yes?" "You should have given her a gift." Lucien looked away. "I was busy." "You are always busy. That is not an excuse; it is your natural state." He had no retort to this observation. Seraphine continued, her tone softening, "She worked hard. She reached the Eternal Realm. She built half of your growing network while pretending she was alright." She paused. "And she has been avoiding me." Lucien remained silent. Seraphine studied him for a moment. "I wish to befriend her," she said. "Genuinely." This statement prompted Lucien to meet her gaze. There was no trace of mockery in her expression, only a clear understanding. "She is important to you," Seraphine stated. "And she is harming herself by trying to bury her feelings under work. Go comfort her." Lucien rubbed his forehead. "You make it sound so simple." "It is not simple." "Then why phrase it that way?" "Because if I suggest it's complicated, you'll overthink it and worsen the situation." Lucien paused, recognizing the unfortunate likelihood of that outcome. Seraphine moved closer, lightly touching his chest with a fingertip. "Do not force an answer you aren't prepared to give. Do not make promises you don't fully understand. But do not pretend you see nothing."

Lucien fell silent.

That advice was something he could actually follow. Maybe. He certainly hoped so.

•••

And so, Lucien set out to find a gift. He delved into the Craft Feature, perusing weapons, artifacts, tools, and an array of items so peculiar that even he hesitated to ponder their creators. Yet, nothing seemed quite right. Lilith wasn't the sort to be swayed by mere beauty, nor would an expensive trinket suffice. She was a builder, a creator. Her Law had blossomed into Genesis Forging. The solution, therefore, became quite clear.

"A hammer," Lucien whispered, a faint smile gracing his lips. He desired to craft something that resonated with her path, an instrument that would not only aid her in striking metal but also in shaping nascent beginnings.

The material was the next consideration. Lucien entered his conceptual realm and stood beneath the nascent Tree of Creation. It was no longer a mere sapling; its roots plunged into his inner world like the foundational veins of a living entity, and its branches fanned out above his core, adorned with luminous leaves that shifted in hue—green, gold, and pale white—depending on the angle of perception.

Lucien extended a hand. The tree responded with a gentle stir. He didn't take; he asked. And then... a branch gracefully bent towards him. Another followed. Several small pieces detached themselves effortlessly, landing softly in his palm. He caught them with utmost care.

The material appeared almost delicate, yet it possessed an undeniable density—a stubborn resilience, a primordial allowance to take form. It was wood, yes, but imbued with the essence of first growth, the concept of matter yielding to shape, and void embracing utility. It was perfect.

"For sister Lilith," he declared. The young Tree of Creation rustled once, a sound Lucien chose to interpret as assent.

•••

The creation of the recipe demanded considerable time. He meticulously laid out overlapping circular arrays across the floor, each designed to anchor a distinct principle. Starsteel dust was added for reinforcement, softened void-silver for lawful conductivity, and several materials associated with beginnings, foundations, and the genesis of formations.

At the center, he placed the branches of the young Tree of Creation. The Craft Feature activated. Lucien refrained from letting it operate autonomously; he guided its process. This was not about mass production; it was about a gift.

The wood began to stretch and condense, its nature subtly shifting beyond that of mere wood. Its grain ignited, interwoven with fine golden threads resembling dawn captured within living substance. The hammerhead coalesced from a fusion of the creation-wood core, starsteel reinforcement, and law-array compression. It was shaped not as a crude block, but as an elegant forging head, its soft geometric faces inscribed with miniature clauses, one side embodying birth, the other, completion.

The handle formed last. It was smooth, a dark-gold hue, and radiated warmth without heat. Lucien carefully etched the divine-vessel resonance into it, ensuring the hammer would feel not like an external tool, but like an extension of Lilith's own being.

Then came the effects. Lucien devised them meticulously, one by one.

First, Genesis Resonance: The hammer would amplify Lilith’s Law of Genesis Forging during the creation, repair, or transformation of structures and artifacts. It wouldn't merely enhance her strikes; it would imbue each blow with clearer intent, facilitating the smoother acceptance of new forms by raw materials.

Second, Origin Tempering: When employed in forging, the hammer could fortify nascent structures, preventing fragile creations from succumbing to their own complexity. This effect would prove particularly invaluable for high-level arrays, branch foundations, living architecture, and artifacts with evolving properties.

Third, Vessel-Linked Motion: The handle would synchronize with Lilith’s divine vessels, enabling the hammer to react at the speed of thought. Its weight, balance, and striking force could be modulated by her will. In her grasp, it would feel less like a tool and more like an integral part of her body.

Lucien observed this final effect for a prolonged moment before murmuring, "She's going to become even more formidable." Nevertheless, he proceeded.

Finally, the artifact stabilized. The completed hammer hovered before him, exuding a profound beauty. It possessed the gravitas of an object crafted for purpose and the elegance of one that understood the sacredness of work. The head emanated a soft, internal golden glow. The handle bore the living grain of the Tree of Creation, and as Lucien touched it, the hammer emitted a low pulse, as if awaiting its destined wielder.

The Craft Feature displayed its designation: Genesis Hammer. Lucien pondered for a moment, then tilted his head. "Too simple." He renamed it.

[Dawnbirth Anvilheart]

A hammer for new beginnings. A heart for forging creation. That suited her perfectly.

Lucien carefully wrapped the hammer in sealed cloth and departed the chamber.