Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Splurt.

Blood spilled from Max’s mouth as he gasped, eyes wide with shock and horror. And slowly, Selaria pulled her hand out—holding a glowing golden orb of light.

His Divine Bloodline.

Max’s body shook violently, his legs giving way. His black hair slowly turned milk white, strands falling across his pale face. His once bright blue eyes faded into a lifeless pink, drained of vitality and brilliance.

And Max collapsed. Silent. Still. A fading god-child, stripped of everything.

”Haha, I finally got the Divine Bloodline!” Selaria laughed, her voice sharp and cruel as she held the glowing golden orb of light—the fragment of Max’s power—in her hand like a prized trophy.

Without a second glance, she flung Max’s limp body away as if tossing a broken doll, heartless and victorious. But before he could hit the ground, Freya flashed forward, catching him tightly in her arms.

”Max!” she cried, her voice breaking as she looked down at him. His eyes were half-closed, his breathing weak, barely noticeable. His aura flickered faintly, like a candle on the verge of going out. His once vibrant hair was now white, and his pink eyes—dim and lifeless.

”Don’t bother with him,” Selaria sneered, her tone mocking as she walked toward them with confidence. ”I’ve already erased half of his soul—especially the Yin Soul. And I’ve extracted his Divine Bloodline. What’s left is just a fleshy shell, waiting for the Yang Soul to wither away in the absence of its other half.” She said it casually, like she was reading from a scroll, as if destroying a child’s future was no more than a duty.

Freya’s face was drenched in tears, but her hands didn’t stop glowing. She pressed her palm against Max’s chest, pouring mana into him, trying desperately to stabilize his breath. At the same time, she sent soul energy into his body, doing everything she could to balance what remained of his fractured soul—hoping to keep it intact without its Yin side.

Caelira lay on the ground, her eyes wide with horror as she witnessed her son’s light being snuffed out. Her heart ached with guilt, with rage, with helplessness. She tried to rise, but her limbs refused. She had failed to protect him.

And Max’s father, kneeling with blood soaking through his robes, felt a fury so deep it threatened to consume him entirely. He clenched his fists until they bled, his body trembling—not from weakness, but from the sheer helplessness of watching everything collapse in front of him. If they hadn’t been ambushed by all five… if it had just been two, or even three, they could’ve fought back.

But five enemies at their level had left them with no chance.

Then suddenly, Caelira’s eyes widened. Her senses reached into Max’s body… and caught something. A flicker. A tiny spark. Faint… but still there.

’Huh? There’s still a spark of his Divine Bloodline!’ she gasped, her eyes lighting up. ”Freya! Use the Void Stone! Take Max and run! NOW!” she shouted with all the strength she had left, hope surging back into her voice.

Freya gritted her teeth, glancing at her mother and father. Her hands trembled as she pulled out the Void Stone, the last hope they had. ”Mother… Father… we’ll come back for you. I promise.” Her eyes locked onto theirs for one last moment—filled with pain, love, and unshakable resolve.

She saw the five enemies moving—ready to strike, ready to stop her—but she didn’t give them the chance.

With a final cry, she crushed the Void Stone in her hand.

A gentle blue light surged out from it, wrapping around her and Max like a divine barrier. It pulsed once… then shot into the sky like a streak of holy starlight.

Before the five enemies could reach them, before another attack could land—Max and Freya disappeared, vanishing into the heavens, like a star that slipped beyond the reach of darkness.

***

Max’s consciousness slowly began to fade, his thoughts growing blurry, his vision flickering between light and dark. The last thing he saw was the memory of his mother’s tear-filled eyes, his father’s trembling hands, and his sister’s scream as she held him.

Bits and pieces of the tragedy that had shattered his family swirled in his mind—the glowing hand that tore into his chest, the five enemies that stood like giants, and the blue light of the Void Stone carrying him away.

It was all scattered, like pieces of a broken dream. And then, everything went black, his body slipping into a deep, silent slumber.

Back in the Ancestral Hall of the Sylvaria Kingdom, silence filled the dome as a mysterious cocoon of green light began to form around Max’s unconscious body. It shimmered softly, shaped like an enormous egg, its surface glowing with strange energy.

From all around it, golden vines twisted and pulsed gently, wrapping the cocoon in an elegant, divine embrace. The air trembled faintly as the cocoon slowly floated upward, positioning itself right in front of the pentagonal-shaped emerald on the forehead of the statue of Caelira.

A dark blue light connected the emerald and the cocoon, like a thread of life passing between a mother and her child.

The elves inside the hall, including the three ancient Ancestors, stood frozen, unable to speak. They had never seen anything like this. Even during Freya’s visit, no such phenomenon had occurred. There had been no cocoon. No golden vines. No such connection to the statue. This… was something far beyond what any of them had ever imagined.

”Ancestors, look there!” Princess Lenavira suddenly cried out, her voice filled with trembling excitement as she pointed toward the base of the statue.

Everyone turned—and what they saw left them stunned.

From the feet of the statue, green vines began to sprout, growing rapidly across the floor. Within seconds, colorful flowers bloomed—brilliant reds, soft blues, vivid purples—and lush trees rose up around them.

The entire Ancestral Hall transformed into a vibrant garden, overflowing with life. The air was filled with the scent of fresh blossoms, and the golden dome above shimmered like dawn had broken within the temple itself.

The elves could only stare, wide-eyed, as they witnessed something they had never thought possible—life returning to the land. It was even faster and denser than what Freya had done three years ago.