100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? Chapter 553 - Names
Previously on 100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full?...
The visions flickered once more. These apparitions refocused on the spirits.
A singular reason explained the tiny spirits' absence from the cavern.
They had been apprehended.
Their capture occurred during a foraging excursion.
They encountered humans for the first time, excluding the solitary figure within the cavern.
For a fleeting moment, the humans merely observed.
Then, avarice clouded their gazes.
The spirits remained ignorant of this newfound expression.
They perceived only that a dire turn of events had transpired.
Earth attempted to recede into the surrounding vegetation, but a crudely fashioned net inscribed with runes ensnared her.
Fire erupted in a surge of alarm, yet a containment jar enveloped her nascent flames, stifling her radiance.
Wind ascended rapidly, a flurry of fright, only to be pulled earthward by a heavy talisman, akin to a bird caught by unseen forces.
Water dispersed into droplets, but their captors produced a container etched with absorbent markings. Before Water could escape, the dispersed droplets were drawn together and confined.
Within their respective prisons, the four spirits quaked.
They exerted all their might.
Earth strained against her bonds.
Fire unleashed her heat.
Wind writhed and twisted.
Water attempted to flow.
However, the humans proved cunning and resourceful.
They employed intricate traps, potent seals, and their own gleeful, grasping laughter.
One man peered into Fire’s jar, a greedy smile spreading across his face. "Unknown elemental beings. Do you realize the price collectors would offer for these?"
Another man held Water’s vessel aloft, angling it towards the sun. "Perhaps they possess medicinal properties."
"Or could serve as components for formations," a third voice chimed in.
A fourth individual chuckled, "Or simply as a source of amusement. Observe their trembling."
The spirits discerned only fragments of the conversation.
Yet, the pervasive sense of peril was unmistakable.
Within their nascent consciousnesses, a single image eclipsed their burgeoning fear.
It was the man residing in the cavern.
Solitary. Still recuperating.
A heightened sense of urgency gripped the spirits.
Their return was imperative.
Not for their own safety.
But for his sake.
•••
The humans conveyed them to a nearby settlement.
They were positioned centrally within the community, housed in distinct containers and enclosures.
A throng of onlookers soon assembled.
Children, drawn by curiosity, arrived first.
A young child lobbed a small stone towards Earth's cage.
Earth recoiled from the impact.
The surrounding adults erupted in laughter.
Another child prodded Wind's confining talisman with a stick, jumping back in surprise as Wind spun in agitated fury.
Fire attempted to surge forth when an individual drew too near.
The sealing jar constricted her energy, forcing her to draw inward.
Water's container was passed from hand to hand, jostled lightly, then set down as if her evident distress were a source of amusement.
It was then that the four spirits acquired a new, profound understanding.
They learned the true meaning of fear.
Their inner luminescence began to wane.
Their small forms trembled incessantly, causing their vibrant hues to fade.
The humans nearby engaged in a heated debate.
"We should sell them."
"Nay, let us transport them to the city first."
"Consider dissecting one. If they prove to be a rare species, we must ascertain their composition."
"They bear the semblance of condensed elemental forces."
"Perhaps we can integrate them into powerful artifacts."
"What if they reproduce?"
These words struck the spirits with the force of physical blows.
While not every statement was comprehended, the underlying threat was acutely felt.
For the first time, a chilling sensation of utter helplessness washed over them.
But precisely at that juncture—
The vision suddenly plunged into darkness.
An ominous shadow descended upon the settlement.
The sun's light was abruptly extinguished.
Every person within the settlement became unnervingly still.
The very atmosphere grew oppressively heavy.
Then, he manifested.
The man from the cavern had arrived.
He hovered above the settlement, suspended in the air.
His presence exuded a different aura now.
Still gaunt. Still weathered. Still evidently recuperating from a period of severe self-neglect.
Yet, an aura of commanding authority emanated from him, compelling the world to bow its head in deference.
Intense pressure radiated outward in palpable waves.
Instantly, the humans below were forced to their knees.
A few attempted to lift their gazes.
Their efforts proved futile.
The very earth seemed to groan under the immense weight of his presence. The air grew thick, rendering each breath a hard-won privilege. Every heart within the settlement constricted simultaneously.
Yet, a subtle stirring emanated from the spirits.
Their faint lights flickered, gaining a touch of their former brilliance.
The man's gaze fell upon them.
For the initial time since their encounter, a ferocious intensity ignited in his eyes.
His countenance contorted, twisting with pure wrath.
With a simple gesture of his hand, the confining restraints were obliterated.
Every cage imploded simultaneously.
The four spirits burst forth, disoriented but alive, instinctively soaring towards him.
The man tilted his head upwards.
Then, he spoke.
It marked the first occasion the spirits had ever heard his voice.
"How dare you imprison spirits?"
His words did not merely reverberate through the settlement.
They resonated throughout the entire world.
Every sentient being felt the pronouncement pass through existence like a divine judgment.
The humans quaked uncontrollably.
Several cried out in terror, yet even their fear sounded insignificant compared to his imposing presence.
The man's eyes now held an icy, chilling glint.
"Spirits are the custodians of this realm."
His voice deepened, resonating with profound gravity.
"You who dare to confine them shall face celestial retribution."
The heavens responded immediately.
A thunderous clap broke overhead, directly above the settlement.
Lightning congregated, not as part of a natural storm, but as an undeniable verdict. The clouds transformed into a blinding gold-white hue. The ground beneath the subjugated humans fractured. The air itself shrieked, as if the world were taking its final, condemning breath.
Then, the lightning descended.
It poured from the sky in colossal, incandescent pillars.
The settlement was utterly annihilated.
Vanish from existence they did, by a light too complete to leave even dust for mourning. When the blinding brilliance faded, only a scorched earth remained. And quiet. Within that silence, a name was conceived. Spirit. From that day forward, spirits were revered by the world. And those who dared to confine them would forever remember, through legend, terror, decree, and bloodshed, that divine retribution had once descended upon the world for merely four small lights. The four spirits, however, paid no heed to any of that. Their sole concern was that the man had reappeared. They soared towards him. Earth landed against his shoulder. Fire danced near his face. Wind swirled around him with such speed it nearly struck his head. Water pressed gently against his chest. And then, for the very first time, the man offered them a smile. Small. Weary. But genuine. The spirits glowed with unprecedented brilliance. But suddenly... the man coughed out blood. His body doubled over. The four spirits were thrown into a panic. They caught him before he could fall. Together, they transported him back to the hidden cavern behind the cascading waterfall. Back to their home. ••• The visions that followed were more subdued. Many days elapsed. The man lay upon the bed, tended to by the spirits. The Origin Core had bestowed upon him immense power, but it had exacted a price from a body ill-equipped to handle such authority. His breaths were initially shallow. His skin raged with fever, then turned frigid, only to burn once more. The spirits possessed no understanding of bodily backlash. They comprehended only that he was in pain. Thus, they remained. Earth stabilized the bed and supported his frame during the tremors that wracked him. She softened the ground surrounding the bed and erected small stone ledges, facilitating the others' access to herbs and water. Fire maintained the cavern's warmth. She purged impurities, purified the air, and stood guard over the hearth like a diminutive warrior protecting the world's sole remaining sun. Wind moved perpetually. It circulated fresh air throughout the cavern, dispersed smoke, cooled his brow when the fever spiked, and attempted to synchronize with his struggling respiratory rhythm. Water rarely strayed far from him. She cleansed the blood from his lips, cooled his skin, softened dried herbs, and channeled droplets into his mouth whenever he could manage to swallow. For days, the man remained silent. Then, one morning, his eyes fluttered open. Water was the first to notice. She pulsed with such intensity that the others whirled towards her. The man gazed at the ceiling for an extended period. Subsequently, his eyes slowly shifted to the four tiny spirits fluttering above him. His lips moved. No sound emerged. Water leaned closer. The man tried once more. "Troublesome..." His voice was barely louder than a whisper. The spirits froze. Then Fire erupted in a shower of sparks. Wind spun in frantic circles. Earth bounced with such force that the bed shuddered. Water splashed his face by accident. The man blinked. For a single, fragile instant, irritation flickered across his weary features. Then, something akin to amusement graced his eyes. The spirits rejoiced as if he had proclaimed the world's salvation. The visions persisted. The man's recovery was gradual. He remained frail. His body had been neglected for far too long, and the backlash had exacerbated his existing weakness. However, he now consumed the food they offered, drank the water Water insisted upon, permitted Earth to assist him in standing, and allowed Fire to warm him. He ceased feigning indifference to the fruit Wind crammed into his mouth. Little by little, the cavern underwent a transformation. The man began to sit up more frequently. Subsequently, he started to speak. Not much at first. A word here. A dry remark there. A weary caution when Fire ventured too near the bundles of herbs. A quiet expression of gratitude when Water eased his fever. A faint sigh when Wind grew overly proud of successfully feeding him. A gentle touch against Earth's lightness when she supported him without prompting. The spirits absorbed every utterance as if it were precious treasure. Eventually, he instructed them in the art of speech. The process was slow. Initially, they lacked mouths, possessing only luminescence, willpower, and elemental resonance. Yet, the man exhibited infinite patience. He traced words into the earth. He sculpted concepts using pure energy. He repeated simple sounds until even utter despair would have surrendered to his persistence. Fire was the first to learn. Not perfectly. Her inaugural word was neither "hello," "food," nor "man." It was "hot." The man regarded her, stunned. Fire glowed with pride. Wind immediately attempted to emulate her, producing a sound resembling air escaping from a failing flute. The man lowered his head into one hand. Earth pulsed solemnly, emitting a sound akin to a low grunt. Water produced a soft, gurgling noise and appeared embarrassed by it. For the first time, the man let out a laugh. The spirits became utterly still. That sound became their most cherished possession. Following this, their efforts intensified. ••• Time flowed onward. The man's health improved. The profound emptiness that resided in his eyes did not dissipate instantaneously; it receded slowly, much like winter yielding to a persistent spring. He commenced training the spirits. Initially, the instruction was rudimentary. How to exert control over their abilities. How to avoid squandering their energy.The understanding of impending peril was imparted.
The shaping of elemental energies was taught, ensuring the land that birthed them remained unharmed.
Earth learned to shape stone without disturbing the roots embedded within.
Fire learned to provide warmth without unleashing destructive flames.
Wind learned to be a precise blade without scattering everything in its vicinity.
Water learned to mend and soothe without causing drowning.
The elemental spirits adhered to these lessons with utmost diligence.
Most of the time.
Yet, Fire sometimes faltered in its control.
Wind occasionally lost its intended direction.
Earth, in its contemplation of the ground, sometimes took too long to shift its form.
Water, prone to being overly sentimental, would attempt to resolve every issue by merely washing it away.
The man guided them all with a patience that strongly suggested a deep affection.
These spirits developed a yearning to emulate him.
This aspiration initially manifested as simple imitation.
They closely observed his gait.
The way he handled objects.
The subtle movements of his hands during his lessons.
The expressions that crossed his face when he felt irritation, amusement, fatigue, or when he feigned indifference to being moved.
They longed for hands of their own.
They desired faces that he could direct his gaze towards.
They wished for voices that sounded less like chaotic elemental outbursts.
Thus, they began their transformation.
Their inherent elemental memories proved invaluable in this endeavor.
Even before achieving sentience, they had interacted with humans in myriad ways.
Earth had experienced the pressure of footsteps, the stillness of burials, the foundations of homes, the paths of roads, and the return of physical forms to the soil.
Fire had known the comfort of hearths, the heat of blood, the process of cooking, the intensity of rage, the fervor of passion, and the shared warmth between loved ones.
Wind had flowed through respiratory passages, carried spoken words, lifted strands of hair, and perceived the sound of laughter long before comprehending its meaning.
Water had coursed through tears, perspiration, the circulatory system, natural rivers, vessels, and the gentle rocking of cradles.
They possessed an understanding of the human form.
Not with complete precision.
But profoundly.
So, they began to mimic.
Initially, they manifested as diminutive, humanoid figures composed of pure light.
They were small enough to rest upon his palm.
Earth's form was solid and featured a round face.
Fire possessed radiant eyes and a mane of fiery red hair that flickered whenever she grew excited.
Wind was slender and swift, her form perpetually indistinct at the edges, as if even shape itself couldn't restrain her from constant movement.
Water had gentle features and an ethereal glow, her eyes seeming perpetually on the verge of tears or laughter.
The very first instance the man laid eyes upon their newly formed features, he ceased speaking.
The spirits became motionless, apprehensive that they had committed an error.
However, the man merely gazed at them.
For an extended duration.
An unusually long time.
It was as if a memory from his distant past had resurfaced, presenting itself in a form gentle enough not to overwhelm him.
Following this, a smile graced his lips.
A genuinely warm expression.
The spirits reveled in its radiance.
He extended his hand and delicately touched the crown of each of their heads with a single, careful finger.
"You shall require names," he stated.
The spirits exchanged glances.
Then they looked back at him.
He remained in deep contemplation for a considerable period.
Finally, he gestured towards Earth.
"Marie."
Earth repeated the name slowly.
"Ma... rie."
The name anchored itself within her luminous form, akin to a seed finding fertile ground.
He then indicated Fire.
"Kaia."
Fire uttered the name softly.
"Kaia."
The sound resonated within her like a gentle pulse.
Next, he pointed to Wind.
"Sylra."
Wind twirled once, filled with delight.
"Sylra."
The name flowed through her essence like a gust of air.
Lastly, his finger moved towards Water.
"Marina."
Water blinked her luminous eyes.
Then she bounced with excitement.
"Marina!"
The man nearly emitted another chuckle.
"You are pleased with it?"
The four spirits embraced their newfound names.
Not because the names conferred any sense of possession.
But because they were bestowed by him.
And within that cavern, that singular act was sufficient to render the names sacred.