100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full?-Chapter 452 - Unexpected Ally

A week later, the atmosphere in Sareth had changed completely.

The rumor was no longer a rumor in the fragile sense.

It had become a pattern.

Too many people had heard the same thing from too many different directions for it to remain a tavern invention.

The Liberators had appeared in the West.

And they had brought the cure.

That knowledge moved through Sareth in different ways depending on who heard it.

Among the desperate, it spread like fire through dry grass.

Those already suffering from the miracle drugs clung to the news with a kind of frightened hunger. Some prayed it was true. Some distrusted it on instinct. Some hid the rumor even from family, afraid that speaking hope aloud would somehow ruin it.

Among merchants, the reaction was more complicated.

Some were elated. If the Exchange’s monopoly on dependency broke, entire markets would breathe again. Some were terrified because they had already grown rich by adjusting themselves around poisoned demand. Others tried to stay neutral and simply waited to see which side would survive long enough to deserve loyalty.

Among sects, the reaction split sharply.

The proud called the rumor suspicious, then quietly sent people to verify it. The cautious kept their gates shut tighter and waited for proof. The compromised denied everything while already planning for retreat.

Among ordinary people, hope and fear traveled together.

Some smiled for the first time in years and immediately hated themselves for how dangerous that felt.

Some became angry. If a cure existed now, then it meant they had suffered needlessly all along. That kind of truth did not heal gently.

Others simply became quieter. When people have lived under poison for too long, even good news can feel unreal until touched.

That was why Lucien never mistook rumor for victory.

It had stirred the region.

It had not yet settled it.

Still—

Sareth had changed.

The delay strategy had worked.

Well enough.

Lucien’s earlier thought had been right. The first strikes had severed the fingers. In the days that followed, they had worked inward.

Quietly.

They intercepted couriers, cut hidden relay points, inverted local authority channels, and hollowed out the supporting structure that allowed the Exchange’s regional hand to close into a fist.

That was what it meant to take the wrist.

Not one glorious blow.

But the removal of leverage.

By the end of the week, the Exchange in Sareth could still move, but it could no longer move cleanly. Orders arrived late. Responses contradicted one another. Some local enforcers received no replacement supplies at all. Others were told to hold positions already lost. Certain allied merchants stopped answering because they were dead, cured, fled, or pretending to be neutral.

The hand had not been cut off entirely.

Not yet.

But the wrist had been opened deeply enough that force no longer transferred properly.

That was enough.

Enough for the rumor to spread with less interruption.

Enough for the cure to continue moving while larger retaliation remained delayed.

Enough for the Exchange’s visible authority in Sareth to weaken in the eyes of the people.

And once authority looked weaker, it became weaker.

Lucien understood that very well.

The speed of it all did not escape him either.

A week.

Only a week.

It was absurdly fast.

Too fast, perhaps, for comfort.

But the truth was simpler.

It was fast because everyone involved was pulling in the same direction.

The ancient beasts did not undermine one another.

Dawnbinder did not compete for credit.

The Lunareth did not delay in useless caution.

Everyone understood the same basic thing: the Exchange must be weakened before it can reassert its grip.

No one in his coalition was spending effort fighting parallel ego-battles.

That was why it moved like a blade instead of a committee.

And that realization left Lucien with a strange bitterness.

If the world could align this efficiently under one urgent purpose, then what had the Millenia War truly lacked?

Agreement.

There were too many banners, too many inherited grudges, and too many people who thought in terms of faction survival before species survival.

If all powers had moved as one against the monsters...

The war might not have needed millennia.

It might have been decided in a few decades.

Perhaps less.

That thought did not make him feel wise.

It made him tired.

Lucien watched the changing reports from Sareth and thought, not for the first time, that disunity had likely killed more people than monsters ever did.

Then he put the thought aside.

There was no use mourning what unity should have been when the next move still had to be made.

And the next move had become clear.

Sareth was no longer the place to prove the cure could exist.

Now it was time to make the cure feel impossible to pin down.

It had to become mobile.

The Exchange needed to stop thinking of the Liberators as a local disturbance and start seeing them as a moving threat with no stable center.

That was why Lucien chose Nareth Region next.

North of Maereth.

Opposite Sareth.

The move was deliberately disorienting.

If they continued expanding in a clean geographic sequence, the Exchange would adapt. It would begin predicting the pattern, reinforcing the obvious neighboring regions, and shaping countermeasures around expected spread.

But if the cure surfaced suddenly in Nareth, while Sareth was still unsettled, then the Exchange would be forced into a more dangerous conclusion:

Either the Liberators possessed long-range movement and multiple operational cores... or the West had become compromised more deeply than their maps allowed.

Both possibilities would make them hesitate.

And hesitation, right now, was worth more than dramatic victory.

Lucien took out the Covenant of Pathless Sovereignty.

For the entire year past, he had not stopped charging his divine-rarity items whenever he had the chance.

Now that patience paid off.

Every Covenant item held fuel enough for real campaign use.

The Pathless Sovereignty in particular had become essential for this phase. With it, Lucien could force movement where routes should not exist, punch through impossible travel constraints, or bend the idea of approach itself.

Within the West, he could use it several times. With greater cost, he could even leap across continents.

He would not spend it carelessly.

But for Nareth—

It was the right choice.

The opposite-region spread would create exactly the kind of confusion he wanted.

And before the next phase fully began, another figure arrived.

Solar Concordium.

He came to Aurion himself secretly.

In the West and even across the continent... his reputation carried immense weight.

His reputation moved ahead of him like a challenge given human shape. Meridian Gate had long been one of the most difficult domains in the West to pressure directly.

Solar Concordium himself made war there irrational. His Law turned incursion into contest, and contest into a field tilted toward his own nature. Anyone entering his domain risked being dragged into structures where winning cleanly cost more than the land itself was worth.

He was useful in a way only dangerous eccentrics could be.

He entered Aurion already aware that the rumors had begun there.

Dawnbinder recognized him immediately, even through the disguise.

Then he was brought into his hall, where Solar Concordium finally saw them.

He stared at Lucien first.

Really stared.

Then his face split into laughter so loud it rattled the windows.

"So it was you," he said. "The wolf who fights well."

He had seen Lucien’s spirit before.

He seemed amused, as though he had realized something but chose not to say it aloud.

His amusement only deepened when he sensed the ancient beasts more clearly.

Instead of shrinking from them, he lit up.

This was the sort of man he was.

To others, a hall full of ancient beasts was a pressure.

To him, it was a postponed festival.

He requested the cure without hesitation. Meridian Gate needed it. Too many of his fighters had already fallen under the drugs’ corruption, and unlike weaker powers, he had no patience for pretending pride could solve what poison had already entered.

Lucien agreed.

That secured the practical alliance first.

Only after that did Solar Concordium move on to what he apparently considered the truly important matter.

He pointed at Lucien.

"When you reach Eternal, come to Meridian Gate."

Then he pointed broadly at the ancient beasts.

"All of you too."

Condoriano laughed at once.

"A bold little sun."

Solar Concordium grinned wider.

"Then come prove I am little."

Even Dawnbinder did not escape. Solar Concordium’s eyes shifted, narrowed, and then gleamed.

"You too. Eternal Realm suits you. That means avoidance is no longer respectable."

Dawnbinder sighed the sigh of a man who had spent centuries building refined hidden roads only to be noticed anyway by the one person least interested in subtlety.

"I was hoping to remain a spectator."

"You may spectate," Solar Concordium said. "While being hit."

That finally made even some of the ancient beasts laugh.

The hall lightened in a way Lucien had not expected.

Battle maniacs had their uses.

Especially when they came wrapped in legitimacy, regional deterrence, and enough personal absurdity to make direct confrontation with them strategically unattractive.

And that was exactly what Solar Concordium became.

With him loosely aligned to the coalition, Sareth stabilized further.

Not because he filled every gap.

But because his presence changed the Exchange’s calculations.

Attacking Sareth now no longer meant pressuring only Aurion, liberated settlements, or hidden Liberator cells.

It meant possibly drawing in Meridian Gate.

And fighting Solar Concordium was never worth the cost.

He did not fear death.

If anything, he welcomed it. So long as it came at the end of a worthy battle, a true contest. To him, that was not loss, but the finest conclusion one could earn.

Defeating him meant nothing.

Because even in defeat, he gained exactly what he desired.

It was the kind of opponent where you could win the battle...

And still lose the war.

Even an Extinction-grade would not move lightly into that kind of uncertainty unless the reward justified the exposure.

And the Exchange had another reason to remain cautious.

Its headquarters and branch-centers could not be left under-defended. If they stripped protectors away too aggressively in order to crush Sareth, they risked creating exactly the kind of opening the Liberators had already exploited elsewhere.

That was the cost of fighting a mobile enemy.

Every redeployment threatened the places you left behind.

Which meant, for the moment, the Exchange had to think.

And any enemy forced to think too long while Lucien kept moving was already falling behind.