100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full?-Chapter 467 - Time’s Up

The dust settled slowly.

Convergence remained suspended in the air.

His expression was calm now.

That was worse.

Because now they stood inside Lucien’s domain, and even there Convergence did not look shaken. The wounds across his shell were still visible. The torn flesh still twitched where the Soulbrand Claw had bitten. The destructive motes Lucien had forced into his body were still trying to eat through him from within.

Lucien watched carefully.

There it was.

A tightening at the mouth. A slight recoil in the shoulders. A pulse of discomfort that slipped through before the shell could smooth over again.

Then the injuries began vanishing.

Arriving at the state where they had already ceased to matter.

Lucien understood it at once.

Convergence was not merely enduring the destructive laws inside him. He was pulling the point at which they would disappear forward through his own authority and forcing that conclusion to happen now.

The Laws Lucien had planted in his wounds did not fade naturally.

Convergence made their ending arrive early.

Then Convergence looked at him and smiled.

"Congratulations," he said. "You’ve done something most people never get to brag about. You broke a Primordial’s domain before you died."

His gaze lifted slightly toward the heavens.

"But that was also the wrong move."

Lucien’s eyes hardened.

Convergence kept smiling.

"You made enough noise with that break that another one of my peers will notice. And unlike me, he doesn’t care about pacing himself."

A pause.

"Even I don’t love dealing with him."

Lucien did not answer.

Then Convergence added, almost pleasantly, "So I should end this quickly. I’d hate for you to complain later that Primordials had to gang up on a Celestial Realm."

His eyes sharpened.

"Although, I guess that would also be inevitable."

Then he disappeared.

Lucien reacted instantly.

The Crown of Creation flared.

Concepts rose inside his domain in sheets and layers. Principles given shape.

A field of "Delay" spread before Convergence’s path. A lattice of "Deflect" bent the nearest trajectories. A narrowing crown of "Halt" formed like translucent law-bones in the air.

Inside his domain, Lucien could create these things almost thoughtlessly.

He did.

And Convergence destroyed them all.

By speaking an Edict.

"Resolve."

The world heard him.

And it obeyed.

Lucien felt the command pass through his domain like a judge’s answer arriving before the argument had fully been made.

The concepts he had just created broke apart at once.

Then Convergence was beside him.

He punched.

Lucien tried to dodge.

And failed.

The space around his body had already decided that the shortest route between the two of them was contact.

He felt himself being pulled toward the punch as if his own evasion had been turned into agreement with it.

That was the true horror of Convergence.

He did not merely catch you.

He made your escape participate in your death.

The fist landed.

Lucien died again.

The saving light burst from him almost immediately, flinging him backward into restored life with violent force.

He hit the ground, skidded, and did not allow himself the luxury of shock.

He had seen enough.

Convergence’s fist was broken.

Blood ran across the knuckles. Bone had shifted wrong beneath the skin. The shell had not withstood the full expression of that strike cleanly.

Lucien’s eyes sharpened.

There it was.

The shell was still too weak.

Convergence could kill him with that body.

But the body paid for it.

Lucien moved at once.

He activated another drop.

Stillvoice Conduit — Enables the creation of domains where sound-based phenomena can be precisely controlled.

Silence took the field.

Noise stopped being allowed to function normally inside Lucien’s domain. Air still moved. Impacts still happened. But sound itself no longer carried freely as a reliable medium.

That would force Convergence to rely less on spoken Edicts.

At the same time, Lucien activated another treasure.

Covenant of Unspoken Law.

Now he no longer needed his voice either.

His authority could be issued directly through intent.

Convergence flexed his broken fist once.

By the time Lucien finished the second activation, the hand had already begun healing.

He said something.

No sound came.

But Lucien read it cleanly on his lips.

[You have peculiar items. Even I haven’t seen some of them.]

Then Convergence attacked again.

Lucien answered in silence.

Inside his own mind, the Edicts fell one after another.

"Delay."

"Bend."

"Thin."

"Slip."

At the same time, he created more layered concepts through the Crown of Creation.

A wall of mirrored vectors. A skewed lattice of unfinished gravity. Thin concept-ribs of "Misplace" and "Late" arranged along the lines where Convergence’s body would have to arrive if he wanted the cleanest route.

For one brief heartbeat, Lucien thought it had worked.

Then Convergence punched anyway.

The fist itself did not reach Lucien first.

From the broken knuckles flew condensed impacts, mana dense enough to behave like inevitability given weight. They came not as one strike but as a barrage, each one compressed to the point where it looked almost still until it was already on top of him.

Every punch Convergence threw split into a consequence that kept coming even if the hand itself never reached its target.

And each strike cost him.

His hand broke further with every release. Skin split. Bone showed white through torn flesh. The shell was visibly injuring itself just to keep producing attacks at that level.

He did not stop.

Lucien erected more answers.

Lionmane Timing Sigil — A rotating ward-crest that categorizes incoming force and raises defense at the optimal moment.

Loadbearing Crest — A sigil-carved plate that stabilizes nearby allies, reducing knockback and structural collapse effects.

The Timing Sigil spun into being before him, categorizing each incoming strike and raising the correct angle of resistance for the exact fraction of a second where it mattered most.

The Loadbearing Crest settled around Lucien’s frame and kept his own structure from collapsing under the repeated pressure.

At the same time, the Mantle of the Infinite bent light and space around him, shaving off ranged force just enough that impacts arrived narrower than intended. The Gloves of the Eclipse drank whatever raw magic they could from the barrage, black left hand swallowing fragments of force, white right hand flaring as Lucien redirected stolen energy into his own defensive concepts.

It worked.

For the first dozen strikes.

Then the Lionmane Timing Sigil cracked.

Then shattered.

The Loadbearing Crest groaned beneath the accumulated burden but held long enough to stop him from becoming paste under the next wave.

Convergence never paused.

More attacks came.

And worse—

they followed.

Once they missed Lucien’s center, they curved and corrected, as though impact itself disliked being denied and kept searching for the version of events in which it had succeeded.

Lucien cursed inwardly.

Homing inevitabilities.

Of course Convergence would invent something that obscene.

He shifted into the mirrored planes with the Boots of Reflection, slipping for brief instants into afterimage-space where the incoming barrage struck the wrong Lucien and passed through a delayed reflection instead. But even those mirrored evasions were beginning to close under Convergence’s pressure.

One strike clipped him.

Another found him in the transition between planes.

Then a third struck his left side, and the fourth followed the first fracture as if it had been waiting for permission.

Lucien’s left arm exploded off at the shoulder.

For one instant, there was no pain.

Only absence.

Then pain arrived all at once.

His body was strong now. Strong enough that an ordinary divine strike would no longer matter much. He had bathed in the Abyssal Pool after all.

A weaker being would not have lost a limb.

A weaker being would have ceased existing.

Lucien gritted his teeth, slammed a seed into the ruined shoulder, and activated it immediately.

Seed of Reversion — A seed capable of reverting a single part of the body to a previous state.

The severed limb regrew.

Bone. Nerve. Muscle. Skin.

It returned with nauseating speed.

Convergence saw it and attacked harder.

Lucien lasted only a few breaths more before another completed strike erased him.

He died again.

The light of the talisman restored him a little farther away.

Three lives remained.

The domain was utterly silent because of the Stillvoice Conduit, yet the battle had somehow become even more frightening in silence. The impacts were visible but unheard. The punches came without thunder. The destructions happened without roar. Only motion, rupture, blood, and impossible consequence remained.

Lucien’s breathing steadied.

Convergence was healing his hands between volleys now.

That mattered.

Lucien refused to give him the full time.

He triggered Dragon Beast Mode.

His body changed at once. Draconic force spread through him, armor and flesh integrating into a more brutal and complete shape of war. Strength flooded his limbs. His perception sharpened.

Lucien rushed him.

If Convergence wanted to keep using the shell’s broken fists as weapons, then Lucien would make him pay for every exchange.

Convergence looked genuinely surprised for the first time in several Chapters of this battle.

Then he smiled again.

And met him.

They collided.

Lucien struck first. His dragon-forged strength crashed through Convergence’s guard-line.

The Aegis of Rebirth hovered in layered orbit near his flank, ready to answer a fatal mistake if one escaped his calculation. The Mantle’s dawnlight pulsed under his skin, feeding him back the energy he was bleeding into the field. The black glove devoured stray magic. The white glove expelled it as bursts of violent radiance between blows.

Convergence fought back barehanded.

Broken hand and all.

That was when Lucien felt it clearly.

Convergence’s close-combat instincts were terrifying even through an incomplete shell.

He did not need martial flourish. He needed contact.

Every parry led somewhere dangerous. Every touch bent the next route. Every deflection tried to make Lucien agree with a more final position.

Lucien was losing the exchange in pure form.

He knew it.

So he refused to keep the fight pure.

Silent Edicts moved through his mind.

"Shift."

"Stall."

"Break."

"Turn."

Conceptual obstacles rose inside his own domain as he fought.

Hooks of tilted gravity, unfinished steps, false footholds, delayed rebounds, razor-thin fields of stillness that existed only for a fraction of a blink before dissolving.

Lucien used them like invisible pieces of terrain, turning the melee into a place where Convergence had to fight Lucien and the field at the same time.

That was how he stayed alive.

For once, they fought almost toe-to-toe.

Lucien was driven backward. Convergence recoiled from blows that landed too cleanly. Dragon-scale and human flesh broke against each other.

One of Convergence’s punches broke Lucien’s jaw. The Aegis answered by reversing the destruction once and feeding the wound backward into a state where it had not yet happened.

Lucien repaid the exchange with Morphis and a blast from the white glove that blackened Convergence’s side.

Neither stopped.

Lucien’s body screamed. Convergence’s shell cracked.

And still the greater truth did not change.

Lucien was not winning.

He was only making the shell suffer. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

Just then—

Convergence abruptly disengaged.

He stepped back.

Looked upward.

And let out something close to a helpless sigh.

Inside the silent domain, his lips formed the words clearly enough for Lucien to read.

[Time’s up.]

Lucien’s instincts screamed.

For the first time in this entire battle, the warning came before death.

He looked up.

And saw it.

Severance.

A blade-wave so vast it covered Lucien’s domain, descending from above like reality itself had been cut loose and was now falling as judgment. It was too large to evade cleanly. Too absolute to block honestly. Too fast to think about for more than a fraction of a second.

Lucien tried to move.

He could not.

Only then did he understand.

Even while fighting in silence, even while trading blows, Convergence had been herding him.

He had been led, perfectly, into a convergence zone he had never seen forming.

A place where all the most survivable routes ended in one exact spot.

This spot.

The blade-wave of Severance descended.

Lucien’s three remaining Life-Link Talismans were rendered useless.

Not because they had been used.

Because Severance cut the link itself.

The connection between Lucien and contingency disappeared before restoration could properly answer.

For one impossible moment, Lucien felt every remaining safety leave him.

Then the wave hit.

And Lucien died.