100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full?-Chapter 449 - Lunareths Sect

That day, Lucien’s allies did not press the liberated people for immediate answers.

They waited.

The offers remained simple, and more importantly, unchanged.

They could come under Lootwell’s protection.

They could remain where they were and rebuild.

They could leave entirely and take their chances on the road.

No one would be forced.

That did not make the choice easier.

If anything, it made it heavier.

The people thought in different ways, exactly as Lucien expected.

Some looked at the cure, the order Lucien’s people had restored, the sheer strength standing beside them, and reached their answer almost immediately.

Those who had suffered longest under hidden rule were often the quickest. To them, stability had value. Protection had value. A ruler strong enough to break the Exchange’s grip and then refrain from caging them afterward was not a small thing.

Others were slower.

A few among the elders, traders, and more cautious minds raised the harder question.

What if Lootwell lost?

What if the Exchange struck back and crushed everything Lucien had built?

Then anyone who openly joined him would not merely fall.

They would be made examples.

That fear was not foolish.

It was real.

Lucien did not insult it by pretending otherwise.

He told them only this:

"If you come, then you come knowing the risk. I will protect my people. But I will not lie to you and say the world has already become safe."

That honesty did more for some of them than reassurance would have.

There were also those who had lived too long under one power after another and no longer trusted rule itself, no matter how kindly it was presented. They wanted distance, not shelter. Freedom, even uncertain freedom, meant more to them than belonging.

Others, especially among the minor sects, felt shame more strongly than fear. Their sects had survived humiliation, compromise, and enforced weakness. To leave now would feel like admitting the last remnant of their old identity had died. They wanted to stay, rebuild, harden themselves, and prove that next time, no one would conquer them so easily.

Lucien understood that too.

A ruler who demanded gratitude from the proud would only inherit resentment.

So he let the decisions come naturally.

It happened almost exactly the way great decisions often did.

Not all at once.

At first, only a few stepped forward.

Then others saw them.

And once the first choices were made aloud, hesitation began breaking in chains.

Not everyone chose the same path.

Many did decide to go with Lucien.

Not merely out of gratitude, but because they had seen enough in a single night to gamble on him. He had brought force, yes, but also law, medicine, restraint, and the kind of order that did not begin with humiliation.

To some, that was worth the risk.

Even a few who had spent hours worrying that Lootwell might one day fall decided in the end that slavery under the Exchange was simply a slower death.

"If I die," one old man said quietly, "then I would rather die standing with people who cure chains than live kneeling to those who feed them."

That sentiment spread more than Lucien expected.

There were also many who chose to stay.

Most of those came from the surviving minor sects and the older settlement families. They wanted the chance to become stronger by their own effort rather than survive as dependents in yet another power’s shadow.

When Lucien heard that, he respected it.

In response, he had the ancient beasts assigned to those places strengthen their defensive structures.

New barriers were raised. Existing formations were corrected and reinforced. Supply caches were left behind where needed.

The message was clear.

Stay, if you wish. But do not stay unguarded.

Then there were the ones who chose neither protection nor rebuilding under one banner.

Some simply wanted to go.

To roam. To leave behind the place where too much had been taken from them and look for a life not defined by either the Exchange or its enemies.

In his assigned settlement, the choice came faster.

Whatever the reason, more of them chose to come.

By the time the decisions settled, the mood across the first liberated nodes had changed.

People who had spent years frozen in someone else’s system had begun choosing again.

...

It was during this lull that Eirene finally came to Lucien with her proposal.

Eirene approached him while he was studying the next layer of records.

"The Lunareth Sect is near enough from here," she said.

Lucien looked up.

She continued calmly.

"I can go to them myself."

He did not answer immediately.

Eirene understood why.

"The Lunareths trust me," she said. "If we arrive together in force, it becomes a negotiation under pressure. If I go alone, it becomes what it should be. An appeal made through relationship."

Lucien still frowned.

"Alone?"

Eirene’s expression softened slightly.

"I would not go unprepared."

Lucien smiled.

She was not weak. Far from it. And sending her with a visible escort would defeat the point of the visit.

In the end, he agreed.

He crafted a smaller vehicle for her.

When he handed her the vehicle, she looked at him and almost smiled seeing his expression.

"Don’t worry too much."

"Sigh," Lucien said. "I intend to keep doing so."

That finally drew a real smile from her.

Soon, she left.

•••

Later that day, once the liberated settlements had made their initial choices and the immediate chaos had been contained, Lucien’s group began preparing to return and regroup.

They had done enough for the controlled strike.

Now they needed to decide how to convert success into continuity.

At the same time, Eirene moved through the hidden roads toward the Lunareth Sect.

Hours later, she stepped from its adjusted logic back into ordinary terrain. The air changed at once. The hidden compression of space gave way to the natural stillness of the mountain approaches. Ahead lay the track leading toward the Lunareth barrier.

As she neared it, Eirene reached into her ring and withdrew a token.

When she poured man into it, the token lit with pale radiance.

The barrier shimmered.

Two disciples appeared from within moments later.

They took one look at her and immediately bowed.

"Benefactor Flower Fairy," one of them said. "Greetings."

Eirene inclined her head.

Then she said, without wasting time, "I need to meet your Sect Master."

At that, the two disciples hesitated.

Ordinarily, Eirene dealt with Lythrae, not the Sect Master directly. That was the usual rhythm of business, diplomacy, and long-standing trust.

But Eirene saw the hesitation and felt her patience thin.

She did not have time for ritual delay.

So she stopped pretending to be only what the world had most recently known her as.

Without warning, her aura rose.

The two disciples stiffened, but did not resist. They felt no killing intent. Only an impossible pressure, refined beyond anything they had ever stood beneath before.

The pendant at Eirene’s chest began to glow.

Light wrapped around her.

Then her Floran form dissolved.

Silver hair spilled down her back like moonlit water. Her presence changed completely. The softness of living bloom gave way to something colder, purer, and immeasurably older. Her eyes became deep lunar wells. Where the Lunareth bore crescent pupils, hers held the fullness of the moon entirely. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

Lunarian.

An ethereal beauty stood where the Flower Fairy had been.

And the mountain itself seemed to notice.

Deep inside the Lunareth Sect, a booming aura surged upward.

An Eternal flew into the sky without waiting for announcement or permission. Her face had already broken through several emotions before she even arrived.

Disbelief, shock, yearning, reverence.

She came down before Eirene almost recklessly.

Then, when their eyes met, the Sect Master’s old, measured composure collapsed.

She dropped to her knees in the air before falling properly to the ground.

Then she bowed so deeply it became a kowtow.

"I greet the Ancestor," she said. Her voice trembled despite all her power. "You have finally returned."

The two disciples nearby reacted at once.

They fell to their knees too.

"We greet the Ancestor."

Eirene waved a hand.

Their bodies rose under her will. The Sect Master could have resisted if she wished.

She chose not to.

The mountain wind moved around Eirene’s silver hair.

When she spoke, her voice was no longer merely gentle.

It was clear enough to sound like something the moon itself had lent to the world.

"I need your help."