100% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full?

Whatever the Golddusts were scheming, the Coalhearts were entangled in it far too deeply to be innocent.

Lucien and his companions knew the time had come. It was the perfect moment to investigate the Coalhearts. Perhaps within their territory lay the missing clues that would unravel the larger conspiracy.

Most of the Coalheart forces had already been crushed in battle or defected to Lucien's side. Harold was also absent.

'Where did they teleport from?' Lucien wondered.

If he could uncover solid evidence of the Coalhearts' crimes, he could legally strip them of their titles and claim their lands.

Maxim had already confirmed it. A lord's duty was to protect, not harm. If proven guilty, the Coalhearts would be erased from the Noble Registry without question. That alone was reason enough to move.

Lucien's original plan was to infiltrate alone. The others, of course, refused to let him take the risk.

In the end, the group would be five.

Lucien. Cielius. Sebas. Maxim. Edric.

To secure their cover, Lucien crafted two additional Masks of Thousand Faces then passed them to Sebas and Cielius.

With their features hidden behind new visages, they looked like nothing more than weary travelers. Each carried a spatial bag strapped to their backs.

Edric smirked. "Time for serious business."

The others exchanged nods. They were ready.

They rode the airship, stopping just short of Coalheart territory to avoid detection. From there, they continued on foot.

As they approached the gates, two guards stood watch in full blackened armor. Their weapons were forged with unmistakable craftsmanship.

'Ah, right. Coalheart was renowned for their blacksmithing. Solid design,' Lucien noted as his eyes scanned the gear.

The guards barely gave them a glance. Mistaking them for simple travelers seeking supplies, they waved the group through without suspicion.

But the moment they stepped past the gates, everything changed.

A weight pressed down on them.

The very atmosphere shifted.

This was nothing like Lootwell. If his own territory was vibrant and overflowing with life, Coalheart was its opposite.

The air was thick and stagnant. The fields were gray and lifeless as though the land itself had been drained.

Lucien's eyes glowed faintly as he channeled divine energy.

The truth revealed itself and his stomach turned.

"W-what!?"

The atmosphere was saturated with miasma. His very lungs recoiled from it, instinctively rejecting the corruption. With every breath, his body flushed out the poison trying to seep inside.

Cielius grimaced.

"Grandson… I can feel it. An unfamiliar energy. This energy is unnatural. It's invasive... like it's trying to force its way in."

"Aye," Edric said, flexing his arms with a grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Tried to sap my strength. Good thing these muscles don't bend so easy. GAHAHA!"

The others exchanged troubled looks. They all felt it too. The air wasn't just foul. It was trying to burrow into them, sapping at their very cores.

Cielius lifted his hand and wove a quick wind spell. A soft current curled around their faces, filtering the corruption from the air they breathed. Relief washed over them at once.

Lucien gave a short nod. "Better."

They pressed onward.

And at last, they reached the heart of Coalheart territory.

It was unexpectedly… harmonious?

The sight caught them off guard.

The streets bustled with activity.

Merchants hawking goods.

Mothers haggling over prices.

Children laughing as they darted between stalls.

On the surface, it looked like a thriving and peaceful community.

Too normal.

If Lucien hadn't been able to see the miasma, he might have believed the illusion himself.

But his sharpened vision caught it... The truth.

The very air was leeching from the people. The miasma clung to every breath, quietly siphoning something vital.

Life force.

The process was insidious and almost undetectable. Just a trickle. But over time… it hollowed them out.

Cielius noticed it too. His expression hardened.

"These people… their vitality is already diminished. Weaker than ordinary folk. And even now, it continues to drain. Slowly but steadily. The energy is flowing somewhere."

Lucien's eyes lit up in grim confirmation. He tracked the flow, watching as the stolen essence threaded through the air.

It was gathering then shooting upward... drawn to a focal point.

He followed it with his gaze.

And there it stood.

A gargoyle statue.

Pure black stone. Sharp angles. Oppressive presence.

Its aura was as formidable as the Rainbow Slime Lord Statues but this one oozed dread.

Lucien's heart pounded.

The statue felt alive. The life force of the people was being funneled straight into it. Nourishing it. Feeding it.

The others noticed Lucien's sharp reaction and followed his gaze.

When their eyes landed on the statue, they froze as well. Their expressions darkened.

"Nephew," Maxim muttered. "That thing… it carries the same weight as your Slime Statues. But more twisted and darker."

Lucien swallowed hard and gave an unconscious nod.

Sebas then stepped forward and approached a passing woman.

"Miss," he asked politely, "we're new here. Could you tell us about that statue?"

The woman's face softened with understanding. She smiled.

"Ah, travelers. That is our guardian. It protects our land and grants us safety. We owe it everything."

Her voice carried a tone of devotion as she continued, praising the grotesque effigy like it was a sacred deity.

The group's faces hardened.

The truth was the exact opposite of her words. These people had no idea... They were being drained, deceived, worshiping the very thing stealing their lives away.

Lucien's fists clenched. Anger welled up in him.

It was no different from the cults he remembered from the modern world.

Twisting hope into chains.

Brainwashing the weak and desperate into blind obedience.

People clung to lies because they wanted to believe in salvation, never realizing they were feeding their own destruction.

Lucien's eyes burned as he turned toward the Coalheart mansion in the distance.

"Those hypocrites…" he hissed.

Suddenly, a clamor broke out among the townsfolk.

"The Madam is here!" someone cried.

"Quick, let us greet the Madam!" another echoed.

All around them, the natives abandoned what they were doing and hurried toward the street. Their faces lit up.

Lucien and the others turned and saw her.

Harold's wife. Noctra Coalheart.

She appeared to be in her mid-twenties. Her beauty was striking in a way that immediately drew attention. Graceful and poised… almost disarmingly normal.

The kind of presence that made one wonder how a brute like Harold could ever have won her.

Noctra returned the greetings with practiced elegance before approaching the gargoyle statue. Her hands came together and her body lowered into a posture of prayer.

The crowd mirrored her, bowing in unison.

Lucien narrowed his eyes. That was when he caught it.

From the statue, the miasma that had been circulating through the air shifted. It slithered down, funneled unnaturally toward a ring on Noctra's finger. It was etched with the same gargoyle motif.

Lucien's breath hitched. He knew that design. Darius had worn a similar ring...

The one now tucked safely in his INVENTORY. The same thing that made his instincts screamed danger.

The ring pulsed faintly. It became bloated with stolen essence.

And then he felt it... The surge in Noctra's presence. The ring wasn't just protecting her from the life-drain that plagued the others… it was feeding her. Empowering her.

Lucien's jaw tightened.

'So that's it. That's how Harold leveled so unnaturally fast… these rings.'

His gaze sharpened.

Another clue. Another link in the chain.

'That statue… I must destroy it. No. If possible… I'll purify it. Make it mine.'

Lucien used INSPECT.

***

Name: Noctra Coalheart ♀

Age: 45 years old

Race: Human

Job: Manipulator

Level: 63

Title:

• Baroness Coalheart

• Enslaver of Wills

Skill:

• Brainwashing

Magic:

• Dark Magic (Advance)

Magic Affinity:

• Dark Magic

Favouravility: -100

Status: exhilirated

***

Lucien's pulse quickened. 'Forty-five? She looks barely twenty-five. And a Manipulator…'

She was stronger than he expected. And that Job alone made his fingers itch to slap the smug grace off her face.

Then, something unexpected happened.

Her eyes flicked toward them.

It wasn't a coincidence.

"Good day, travelers." Her voice was smooth yet with a weight that pricked at their nerves. "The first time I laid eyes on you, I knew you were not ordinary. Would you mind joining this old lady for tea?"

For a heartbeat, silence fell over the group.

The crowd erupted in excitement.

"Lucky ones!"

"To be invited by the Madam herself!"

Lucien's jaw clenched. She was a predator hiding behind porcelain skin.

Edric, ever the sly one, stepped forward with a courtly bow. "Hello, Madam. That is most kind of you. If it won't trouble you then we wholeheartedly accept."

He turned slightly, flashing Lucien a subtle grin and a thumbs-up.

It's as if he was saying... 'Play along. We'll get closer this way.'

Noctra's lips curved in a way that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Please follow me to the mansion."

The group trailed after her, passing through the Coalheart gates.

The mansion rose before them.

Gaudy. Gilded. Clearly renovated to flaunt wealth rather than taste.

Servants hurried to open the doors. As they stepped inside, Noctra leaned close to one of them and whispered something. The servant bowed low before hurrying off.

"My servant will prepare the tea." She turned back to them with flawless grace. "Good sirs, would you tell me about yourselves?"

Edric let out a hearty laugh. "Gahah, Madam. We are just ordinary travelers from afar. We only stopped here to restock."

Noctra's expression didn't falter but her next words were a knife slipped between the ribs.

"By any chance, do you possess skills?"

The atmosphere chilled.

Lucien's eyes narrowed. 'So this is how she does it… probing, one layer at a time. Pitiful travelers must stumble into this trap and end up shackled to her will.'

They nodded lightly.

Her eyes lit up as if she had just glimpsed treasure.

"Actually, I'm quite the admirer of travelers' tales. Would you indulge me? Tell me about your skills."

The request sounded harmless. But every word dripped with compulsion.

Of course, they lied. They spoke of skills anyone could believe.

Noctra listened with perfect poise. Her grin sharpened as if each lie was a gem she could polish later.

Lucien triggered INSPECT.

Status: Scheming

His chest tightened. 'As expected… she's already plotting how to use us.'

He leaned back.

'The game has begun.'

The servants finally returned, carrying trays of tea and neatly arranged snacks. Cups were placed with practiced grace before each guest.

Lucien glanced down at his cup.

INSPECT.

"Hah… of course." he muttered under his breath.

His eyes narrowed.

'Spiking tea and binding minds. How many have fallen to this trick?'

The timing couldn't be better. The room was empty now, the servants having bowed and quietly slipped away.

Lucien leaned back.

"Everyone… I guess it's time we drop the act."

In an instant, they moved.

Maxim raised a barrier of wind around the chamber, sealing sound from escaping.

Edric and Sebas blurred into motion, slipping behind Noctra like hunting wolves.

Cielius was on standby.

Noctra blinked. Her smile cracked as realization set in.

"What—?!" Her hands shot forward. She was trying to cast Dark Magic. But...

Too slow.

Edric's arm locked around her neck. Sebas forced her wrists down. And they slammed her to the floor before the spell could take shape.

The Baroness of Coalheart gasped.

"W-what?! Travellers… What are you doing? This is—this is felony! A grave offense against the nobility!"

Her voice cracked. Part fury, part panic.

"Unhand me this instant!"

She struggled violently, thrashing against Edric's grip but their combined pressure pinned her like an insect.

Then Lucien's eyes narrowed.

'She's channeling mana into the ring…'

Without hesitation, he moved.

A gleam of steel. A clean arc.

Shhk!

Noctra's scream ripped through the chamber as her hand hit the floor.

"UAAAAHHHH! N-NOOOOO!"

The gargoyle-patterned ring rolled free. Before it could pulse, Lucien snatched it with a thought and sealed it inside his INVENTORY.

He tilted his head.

"Ah—sorry. Guess I'm too used to cutting first and thinking later. I should've just pulled the ring off, huh?"

The others stared at him, speechless.

But the room shifted.

The shrieking Baroness suddenly convulsed.

The moment the ring left her body, her skin cracked like dry parchment. Wrinkles etched themselves deep across her face. Her once-youthful glow collapsed into a grotesque mask.

Her body twisted.

Her spine curved.

Her jaw slackened as her beauty rotted away before their eyes.

"B-Bring it back! Give me back my ring! GAAHHHHH!"

Edric nearly released her in disgust. Her flesh sagged, eyes hollow, hair dull as if decades slammed into her at once. But Sebas tightened his hold.

The others watched in stunned silence. This was not the graceful lady who greeted them. This was something rotten wearing skin.

Lucien exhaled slowly.

"Well, well. Now you really do match Harold. Both of you are hideous."

"Y-YOU CURSED FILTH!" Noctra shrieked. Her voice warped and cracked. "I will curse you to death! You'll regret this! My army will return soon. None of you will leave here alive!"

Her words echoed but Lucien only smiled coldly.

In truth, Noctra was only putting on a mask of defiance. Behind her shrieks, her eyes trembled with raw terror.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. They should be groveling under her will, not the other way around.

But then Lucien leaned close. His words teared apart the last thread of her courage.

"Ah… you mean the brainwashed people who marched to their deaths against monsters?" His smile was sharp. "They're mine now. You know… they suffered for years because of your little tricks. I think I'll let them decide your fate. Imagine what they'll do when they see you helpless."

Noctra's breath hitched. The words didn't just strike her ears... they shattered the illusion she'd clung to.

"And Harold?" Lucien's grin turned crueler. "Don't worry. He'll come for you soon enough."

Lucien raised his hand.

"Sleep."

The spell wrapped around her like shadows, dragging her into forced slumber.