Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Not just any attack.

Not just a random attempt.

This was an assassination strike.

Aimed directly at Max’s heart.

Sharp. Precise. Deadly.

The force behind it carried intent—the kind of madness that came only from someone who lived to kill.

Then—

BANG!

A devastating explosion erupted the moment the sword clashed against its target.

A shockwave of raw energy blasted outward, sending dust, debris, and shattered stone flying in all directions.

The entire garden trembled, cracks spiderwebbing across the ground as the sheer force of impact tore through the battlefield.

Visibility vanished.

A cloud of thick dust swallowed everything, obscuring the scene entirely.

Aelric, standing at a distance, narrowed his eyes.

With a flick of his fingers, his golden arsenal of weapons spun into motion, slicing through the air like blades of divine judgment.

They swirled and dispersed the dust, revealing the aftermath of the attack.

And when the cloud cleared—

What they saw shook them all to the core.

Max stood untouched.

Again.

His right hand outstretched.

In his grasp—

A blade.

Stopped inches away from his chest.

The sword’s tip trembled against his skin, held back by nothing but his bare palm.

And the one gripping the hilt of the sword?

A young man.

Dark wild hair, eyes burning with insanity, an unhinged smirk stretching across his face.

A face Max knew all too well.

A face he had seen once before.

The same crazy smile.

The same insatiable battle lust.

Mad Sword.

A name that didn’t belong to anyone sane.

Max remained unmoved, his grip still firm on the sword of Mad Sword, the crazed genius who had failed to pierce his chest.

But just as he spoke—

”Your sword can’t reach me.”

A shift in the air.

A presence.

No—three presences.

Before Max could react, three powerful figures materialized around him.

They hadn’t rushed him.

They hadn’t announced their movements.

They had simply appeared.

Crown Prince Aelric stood to his side, his golden blade resting against Max’s neck. The edge glowed faintly, infused with level 3 Gold Aura.

Amelia stood in front of him, her own blade aimed directly at his heart. A sword coated in spatial runes, capable of slicing through dimensional barriers. If it pierced him, there was no doubt it would be lethal.

Revenna stood behind him, her hand pressed against his back, releasing a terrifying frost aura. A power that went beyond normal ice manipulation.

Her voice, calm yet filled with deadly promise, whispered from behind him.

”You move even a little, and your body will drop to absolute zero.”

”A temperature where your organs and cells will stop functioning entirely.”

The words weren’t a threat.

They were a fact.

Max remained still.

Not out of fear.

Not out of hesitation.

But because he was interested.

His lips curled beneath the mask.

”I have to give you credit.”

His voice remained steady, betraying no concern, no urgency.

”You aren’t the top geniuses of Valora Continent for nothing.”

A pause.

A silence that stretched—too long.

Then—

He grinned.

A cold, confident, infuriating grin.

”But do you really think this will hold me down?”

”I see you try.” Crown Prince Aelric’s golden blade—previously resting against his neck—slipped inside him.

Not piercing his skin.

Not cutting through muscle or bone.

It simply… phased through.

As if it wasn’t even a physical object.

But Max felt it.

A sharp, unnatural sensation rippled through his very core, not from his body—

But from his Soul Palace.

A foreign presence.

Something that shouldn’t be there.

Something that could potentially harm him.

His eyes narrowed, his senses flaring in alarm.

Crown Prince Aelric remained calm, his grip tightening on the hilt.

His voice was measured, cold, carrying absolute confidence.

”I noticed physical attacks are useless against you.”

His gaze never wavered, meeting Max’s through the mask.

”So I had to use a weapon that could cut directly through your soul.”

The weight behind his words was undeniable.

This wasn’t a random technique.

This was something prepared in advance.

A sword that bypassed flesh and bone entirely, striking at the very essence of its target.

A Soul Severing Weapon.

The only type of attack that could harm someone whose physical body was impervious to damage.

Max frowned deeply, his mind racing.

His instincts told him to react immediately, to use his Soul Force and purge the threat before it could take root inside him.

He was about to—

When—

A shift.

A pulse of energy flared from the direction of the palace.

Auras that demanded attention.

’Some powerful experts with enormous soul force is coming this way?’

He sensed it.

His Three Dimensional Body acting up.

Powerful auras approaching.

They were still at a distance—

But they were coming.

Fast.

His masked gaze shifted, turning toward the elites of the South, who stood still, their faces ranging from shock to frustration.

’I have to go.’ Max thought.

The tension in the air was unbearable.

Crown Prince Aelric’s blade was still embedded in Max’s soul, an unseen threat that could have disastrous consequences.

Revenna’s frost-coated palm hovered at his back, ready to end him in an instant if he made a wrong move.

Amelia’s dimensional sword remained poised over his heart, its edge trembling slightly, yet still deadly precise.

And Mad Sword…

His wild eyes never left Max’s face, his insane grin frozen, eager to finish what he started.

Yet—

Despite the impossible situation, despite the sheer number of dangers around him—

Max laughed.

Softly. Casually.

Like he wasn’t the one standing in the middle of a coordinated execution.

Like this was nothing more than a passing amusement.

Then, he sighed.

His tone dripped with mock regret.

”Everyone, it’s been fun and all, and I really enjoyed your presence… but sadly, I have to go now.”

A pause.

A heartbeat of silence.

Then—

He vanished.

Not dodged.

Not fought back.

Not defended.

He simply ceased to be.

Like a shadow dissolving into the darkness.

Like a whisper lost to the wind.

One moment he was there—surrounded, trapped, seemingly cornered.

The next—

He was gone.

The weapons, the swords, the spells—

All struck nothing.

The air where he stood remained still, untouched, as if he had never existed in the first place.

For a moment—nobody spoke.

Nobody moved.

It was as if time itself had frozen, struggling to comprehend what had just happened.

Then—

A flicker of sound, carried by the wind.

A single name, spoken with amusement, but laced with undeniable dominance.

”Do remember me…

I am called White.”

Max was gone.

But just before he truly departed, before he severed his presence from this place entirely—

He made one final move.

A move that wouldn’t leave a mark on the land—

But would etch itself into someone’s soul.

He condensed all of his Soul Force, drawing it into a single point, refining it with absolute precision.

Not an attack.

Not a burst of energy to make a scene.

But a needle-fine thread of will, sharp enough to pierce through the noise of the world—

And touch only one person.

Anton.

The moment the power reached him, his entire body froze.

A shiver unlike anything he had ever felt crawled through his bones, locking his breath in his throat.

The world around him blurred, the voices of the crowd faded to nothing.

And then—

The voice came.

”You should be very careful with how you treat Alice.”

It was soft.

Too soft.

Like a whisper drifting from somewhere beyond reality itself.

Yet it carried a weight that pressed down on his entire being.

A force that sank into his core, wrapping around his very essence like chains he couldn’t break.

Then—

A pause.

The silence stretched long enough that Anton felt something deeper than fear creeping in.

And then, the final words struck like a blade to his mind—

”Otherwise, the next time I see you make her cry… I won’t just warn you.”

Anton’s eyes widened.

His fists clenched.

Not out of rage—but because his body needed something to hold onto.

Something to stop the trembling.

And just as fast as it came—

The presence vanished.

No trace.

No lingering aura.

As if it had never existed.

But Anton knew better.

It had existed.

And it had changed something inside of him forever.

Because now—

He knew what true danger felt like.