100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? Chapter 561 - Echo Crucible

Lucien felt such deep satisfaction with the simulation facility that he immediately desired one for the main Lootwell territory as well.

It wouldn't be open to outsiders just yet.

His own people came first.

The fundamental principle behind the structure was straightforward.

It featured layered floors, spatially expanded rooms, recorded opponents, selectable strength conditions, customizable environments, safety measures, and scoreboards.

Simple in concept.

Absurd in its implementation.

Each floor was packed with numerous rooms, and the interior of each room was vastly larger than its exterior. A participant would pay for entry, choose an opponent, decide whether to engage with suppressed strength or full power, select an environment, and then begin the simulation.

Once the environment materialized, the opponent would appear.

The lower levels housed weaker adversaries and basic training echoes.

The middle levels contained elite combatants, peculiar monsters, and intricate tactical scenarios.

The deeper, restricted floors held terrors from the Millennia War, remembrances of ancient beasts, void entities, and other beings that Lucien had no intention of revealing to the public without stringent supervision.

And at the highest, most restricted summit resided the Human Ancestor.

That particular floor lacked any decorative name.

Above its entrance, only a single line was inscribed:

[Enter humbly.]

Seran saw this and let out a laugh.

Lucien commented, "It is practical advice."

"It is also an insult," Seran retorted.

"To arrogance, yes," Lucien agreed.

And, much like the Ascension Spire, the facility was equipped with safety measures.

No one would meet their actual end within its confines.

If a simulated fatal blow was delivered, the simulation would simply conclude.

•••

Then, Lucien introduced the feature that was guaranteed to sow chaos.

A scoreboard.

The instant he announced this addition, several individuals in the room froze.

Seran slowly turned his gaze towards Lucien.

"You are doing this deliberately," Seran stated.

"Yes," Lucien confirmed.

Marie, who had been standing nearby, crossed her arms.

"You want people to compete," she observed.

"Yes," Lucien replied.

Kaia offered a smile.

"You want them to embarrass themselves," she mused.

"That is a secondary effect," Lucien clarified.

Marina raised her hand.

"If I win, can I put my name in large letters?" she inquired.

Lucien looked at her.

"That is precisely what the scoreboard does," he pointed out.

Marina’s eyes lit up with excitement.

Sylra quietly posed her question, "Can aliases be used?"

Lucien paused for a moment.

Then, a smile spread across his face.

"Yes," he answered.

The scoreboard system was designed to meticulously record clear categories.

These included: Opponent defeated, Difficulty level, Strength setting, Environment, Time taken, and Individual or team ranking.

A participant's name and affiliation could be displayed if they permitted it.

And because Lucien possessed an astute understanding of human nature, he knew precisely what would transpire.

People would engage in competition.

Battle-hardened individuals would vie for supremacy.

Factions would initially compete courteously, with courtesy gradually giving way to less polite methods.

Ancient beasts would feign indifference, only to spend three days striving to shave a single breath off their time against a Millennia War horror.

The elemental women would likely form a formidable team and unfairly dominate the environmental categories.

Seran would undoubtedly secure top placements under several aliases, purely to provoke others.

The Solar Concordium, upon hearing of this, might even relocate permanently.

Lucien could already envision the emerging trends.

And that was beneficial.

Competition served to sharpen effort.

Effort, in turn, yielded experience.

Experience ultimately led to survival.

The facility's true purpose was not mere entertainment.

It was preparation.

Should the Black Mass monsters return in greater numbers, or if Primordial Incarnations were to appear, Lucien did not want his people encountering impossible foes for the first time on a genuine battlefield.

Fear is most potent when it is unfamiliar.

The simulation facility would render the impossible sufficiently familiar to be confronted.

That, he knew, was invaluable.

•••

Several days later, Lucien entered the simulation facility.

The scoreboard projection shimmered nearby.

Names had already begun to appear on its display.

Seran had claimed the first-place position against three distinct opponents, utilizing three different aliases.

Lucien was fully aware that all three belonged to him.

He chose to say nothing.

Marina had secured the top spot in a water-themed survival scenario, and had listed her affiliation as:

[Luc’s Most Adorable Water Disaster]

Lucien promptly erased it.

She rewrote it once more.

He erased it again.

She then replaced it with:

[Definitely Not Marina]

Out of sheer exhaustion, Lucien allowed this entry.

Eirene, somehow, had entered quietly and achieved a high ranking against a strategy-focused opponent without anyone witnessing her doing so.

This action felt remarkably like Eirene.

The Human Ancestor leaderboard remained largely vacant.

The majority of individuals who entered did not even meet the criteria for a ranked completion.

At the pinnacle stood a single, clear record.

Eirene’s name.

Not for victory.

But for survival time.

Lucien gazed at this record for a prolonged moment.

He then looked towards Eirene.

She offered a faint smile.

"Are you curious?" she inquired.

"Are you going to explain?" Lucien asked.

"Not yet," she replied.

Lucien let out a sigh.

"I had expected as much," he conceded.

Eirene’s smile deepened by the slightest degree.

Lucien turned his attention back to the Human Ancestor record.

The hooded figure remained motionless in the projection preview.

Lucien folded his arms, contemplating.

This facility had commenced as a mere tool.

It had already evolved into something significantly more.

A place where past adversaries could be dissected.

A place where fallen warriors could be confronted anew.

A place where renown could be quantified, however imperfectly.

A place where future guardians could learn that raw power was never sufficient.

Lucien offered a slow smile.

The Ascension Spire trained individuals to ascend.

This new facility would train them to endure.

And once it was unveiled to the broader world, a new cultural phenomenon would ignite.

Another fervent pursuit.

Another catalyst for people to recognize, upon observing Lootwell, that their established reality was rapidly becoming obsolete.

But for the present, Lucien maintained its exclusivity.

Let his people reap the benefits first.

• • •

Several more days elapsed.

Lucien remained at the Middle branch, diligently refining the simulation facility.

By this time, the facility had already acquired its designation.

The Echo Crucible.

The name initially circulated among Lootwell's populace, subsequently propagating to the Liberators and the Celestials.

Lucien stood within the central chamber of the Echo Crucible.

Its initial iteration had proven successful.

That did not signify its completion.

Eirene stood by his side, accompanied by several Lunarian array specialists.

She had arrived bearing notes.

These notes contained recommended enhancements for the facility.

Lucien had solicited feedback from his people, and they had responded with earnestness. Every suggestion was meticulously documented, categorized, and reviewed.

And thus...

Lucien incorporated specialized scenario floors.

These floors were designed to simulate actual fragments of the Millennia War.

There were siege floors.

Corruption floors.

Healer trial floors.

Commander trial floors.

Floors for stealth and infiltration.

And, following Seran's proposal, a disaster floor where the objective was not to vanquish foes, but to safeguard as many civilians as possible amidst a collapsing battlefield.

Furthermore...

The facility was augmented with post-action reports.

Concise battle replays.

Difficulty indicators.

Records of healer contributions.

Documentation of commander decisions.

Observations on environmental synergy.

And finally, a clemency setting for novices desiring diminished pain feedback.

Seraphine christened this setting "coward mode."

Lucien re-designated it "introductory mode."

Ultimately, the system adopted the label:

[Guided Pain Feedback.]

• • •

Once the updated version achieved stability, the Echo Crucible began to hum with latent power.

The facility gradually awakened, layer by layer.

The scoreboard expanded its reach.

The list of available floors was refreshed.

The catalogue of scenarios became accessible.

Lucien reviewed the final system description and smiled faintly.

"Improved," he stated.

Eirene regarded him.

"Are we ready for trial guests?" she inquired.

Lucien gave a slight nod.

"Dispatch the invitations."

• • •

The invitations were dispatched to the recently formed allied factions across the Middle Continent.

The message was concise:

[The Echo Crucible is prepared for a limited allied trial.]

[Selected representatives are invited prior to public unveiling.]

[This trial is complimentary.]

[Your feedback is highly valued.]

[Rankings may be officially recorded.]

That final clause accomplished more than the entirety of the preceding message.

The allied factions responded with promptness.

• • •

The invited representatives arrived anticipating something remarkable.

By then, they had grown accustomed to expecting such from Lootwell.

Yet, they remained unprepared.

The Echo Crucible welcomed them with a subdued magnificence, distinct from the chapel's reverence and the floating city's haughtiness.

The envoys instinctively reduced their pace as they entered.

A young representative from Starveil Observatory murmured, "Is this truly a training facility?"

Clara, serving as a guide, offered a polite smile.

"Indeed."

The representative surveyed the walls once more.

"It possesses the ambiance of a war memorial."

"That is also an accurate perception."

The explanation offered little reassurance to him.

Lucien observed from the upper observation deck alongside Seraphine, Seran, Eirene, Vivian, and the others.

The initial contingent of allied representatives convened in the central selection hall.

A holographic projection materialized before them.

[Please Select Trial Type.]

[Combat Echo.]

[Team Scenario.]

[Survival Trial.]

[Rescue Operation.]

[Healer Assessment.]

[Commander Assessment.]

[Environmental Adaptation.]

[Restricted Challenges – Currently inaccessible at your access level.]

The representatives stared, momentarily transfixed.

Then, the inquiries commenced.

A disciple wielding a spear from Mirror-Sun Hall raised his hand.

"Should we vanquish an opponent, will our names be displayed on the scoreboard?"

Clara responded, "If you opt for public display."

Another inquired, "Can our affiliation be shown?"

"Yes," came the reply.

The atmosphere shifted palpably.

A third voice asked, "Will it be possible to contest the rankings?"

"Yes."

A fourth representative questioned, "Will the records from this early trial be expunged before the official public opening?"

Clara smiled, then gently shook her head.

"No."

That was the precise moment the representatives truly lost their composure.

Their gazes flickered to the scoreboard.

Then to each other.

And finally, back to the scoreboard.

Individuals who thrived on status had entered an edifice where status could be fiercely pursued, meticulously measured, openly displayed, resolutely defended, and vigorously challenged.

Lucien witnessed this profound shift in real-time.

He nearly chuckled.

Seran, however, did laugh outright.

Vivian spoke softly, "This will be quite effective."

Eirene, with her usual composure, stated, "We might need to implement time limits."

Lucien gazed down at the representatives assembled below.

"Yes. Absolutely."

•••

The initial cohort embarked on the beginner combat trials.

They emerged with a sense of humility.

The Echo Crucible didn't commence by confronting them with insurmountable foes. Instead, it illuminated their oversights.

A sword disciple was bested by a bandit echo due to underestimating underhanded tactics.

A young formation master succumbed to a wolf-beast ambush because his understanding of formations was confined to controlled duels in pristine arenas.

A proud spear wielder swiftly vanquished his first opponent, but then selected a forest setting and discovered that the deeply embedded tree roots actively thwarted his footwork.

A healer entered a rescue trial and ultimately failed, having expended too much energy on a single critical patient while seven others in stable condition deteriorated due to her neglect.

She emerged with a pallid complexion.

Seraphine gave a single nod.

"She has learned."

Before long, the representatives started to adjust their strategies.

They engaged in combat once more.

They were defeated again.

They meticulously reviewed replay fragments.

They pored over after-action reports.

They contested the findings presented in the reports.

They re-entered the trials.

They showed improvement.

Then, the inaugural scoreboard record was established.

A disciple hailing from the Jade Horizon Pavilion conquered the [Ridge Bandit Captain] within the rocky pass environment, achieving a time of two minutes and eleven seconds.

His name was prominently displayed above the hall.

[Jade Horizon Pavilion, Ren Qiu. First Place.]

For five breaths, all eyes remained fixed on the display.

Then, all pretense of dignity dissolved.

"I challenge that record."

"No. I was slated to go next."

"You have already participated twice."

"That holds no bearing on the matter."

"It matters immensely."

"Stand aside. My faction's footwork is far better suited for uneven terrain."

"You stumbled on a flat stone earlier."

"That was an instance of environmental miscalculation."

Lucien observed as the usually polite representatives of significant Middle Continent factions devolved into childish squabbles over a training milestone.

He slowly turned his head to address Seran.

"This situation is more dire than anticipated."

Seran offered a radiant smile.

"This is precisely as foreseen."

Within the span of an hour, the initial record had been surpassed four times.

Within two hours, three factions had commenced the formation of ad-hoc strategy groups.

Within four hours, an elder, who was ostensibly meant to oversee his disciples, personally entered the trial, muttering, "This is rather embarrassing."

He subsequently claimed first place.

His disciples erupted in cheers.

An elder from a rival faction witnessed this display and entered the trial next.

It was at this juncture that the trials took on a distinctly political character.

•••

By the conclusion of the first day, the representatives had neglected to transmit detailed reports back to their respective homes.

By the end of the second day, they had begun to seek rest in the waiting lounges between their repeated attempts.

On the third day, Clara found it necessary to dispatch gentle reminders that lodging accommodations were available beyond the facility's confines.

The representatives became consumed.

Not solely with the act of winning.

But with the spectacle of being seen winning.

This represented both the vulnerability and the formidable strength of the Middle Continent.

One's reputation was paramount.

A first-place record transcended mere personal pride; it served as unequivocal proof that one's sect's techniques, cultivation methods, disciples, and elders were indeed worthy of significant recognition.

The Echo Crucible offered more than just combat training.

It transmuted reputation into formidable pressure.

And refined that pressure into relentless effort.

Lucien recognized that the impact was considerably greater than he had originally surmised.

•••

By the fifth day, Lucien was compelled to intervene.

The allied representatives remained immersed within the facility.

A few had transmitted only brief, perfunctory reports to their home factions.

The majority of these reports proved utterly inadequate.

[Facility is extraordinary. Evaluation ongoing.]

[Additional time is required.]

[Refrain from inquiries for the present.]

[Dispatch superior disciples.]

[Our rival faction has secured three records. This outcome is unacceptable.]

One sect master dispatched a direct communication, inquiring as to the reason for his elder's continued absence.

The elder responded thusly:

[I am currently defending the sect's honor.]

The sect master sent a follow-up inquiry:

[In defense of what, precisely?]

The elder's reply was succinct:

[A scoreboard.]

Subsequently, the sect master submitted a formal request for an invitation.

Lucien perused the exchange, then closed his eyes.

"They are proliferating."

Eirene remarked, "That is a common occurrence when obsession takes root."

Lucien finally reached a definitive decision.

"Announce a period of maintenance."

The representatives responded with immediate and palpable despair.

A courteously worded system notification materialized throughout the Echo Crucible.

[The limited allied trial period will conclude in two hours.]

[The Echo Crucible will temporarily cease operations for essential maintenance, calibration, and preparations for its public inauguration.]

[All existing records will be retained.]

The hall became a cacophony of uproar.

"Two hours remaining?"

"I require just one more attempt."

"You uttered those same words twelve attempts ago."

For the subsequent two hours, the representatives battled with the fervor of individuals striving to etch their names into history before an impending closure.

Records fluctuated dynamically.

Some ascended to new heights.

Others descended significantly.

A select few victories achieved in the final moments elicited cheers that reverberated powerfully through the lower corridors.

Then, the facility's operations ceased.

The representatives were gently escorted from the premises.