Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

”You are correct, but there is always a way,” the Witch of the North said with a sly smile, leaning back into her floating chair as her sharp green eyes glinted under the brim of her black hat.

Her voice was calm, but behind that calm was a confidence earned from centuries of forbidden knowledge and experimentation. ”Since the day I found that boy—dying and broken—and temporarily granted him life by binding his remaining soul to Freya through my Witch Seal, I’ve been thinking of a permanent solution. I’ve studied him. Watched him. And after countless experiments over the years... I came to a very neat solution.”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed, a tension settling in the air as he asked, ”What solution?”

The Witch of the North’s smile remained, but her voice turned solemn. ”I will erase his Yang Soul too.”

”What?!” Lucien jumped up, shock contorting his face as his voice echoed through the floating pink world. ”You can’t be serious! He’s already on the verge of death—his body is only being sustained because of the Yang Soul’s fragile connection to the Witch Seal. If you erase that too, the seal will fail. And if that happens... both of them will die. Max and Freya!”

His breath caught in his chest as he tried to grasp what she had just said, unable to believe she would risk both of their lives so carelessly.

The Witch of the North, however, was unbothered. She raised a single finger and tapped it against her temple with a knowing look. ”That would be true... if I were simply removing the soul and leaving the body empty. But I’m not. I intend to replace both Yin and Yang with something else entirely. Something beyond the normal constructs of soul. A binding that doesn’t strain with power but flows with it. Something... artificial—a perfect anchor not affected by mortal rules.”

Lucien froze, the implications slowly dawning on him. ”You’re talking about making him a new foundation... something not born, but created?”

She nodded, eyes glowing faintly. ”A synthetic soul formed from an ancient alchemy I’ve nearly perfected. One that can adapt infinitely to strength without crumbling. One that can grow, morph, and evolve with him. No limits, no soul collapse. If it works...” she smiled darkly, ”he will be the first of a new existence.”

”That’s the only solution,” the Witch of the North said with unwavering calm, her voice echoing faintly in the strange pink domain as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the floating table before her. ”Once a Yin or Yang Soul of a person is forcefully removed, they will die... That is the rule. The law of the world. It has existed since the beginning of life, and no matter how powerful, no being—mortal or divine—can change that. You can slow it, delay it, even mask it, but the end is inevitable. Death will come for them.”

Her fingers traced lazy circles in the air as if sketching invisible runes. ”And there is no real solution either. You can’t just recreate a missing soul, Lucien. No matter how strong a person becomes, no matter what realm they ascend to, creating a part of someone else’s soul—Yin or Yang—is simply impossible. It’s not about power. It’s about essence. Identity. It’s something too intimate, too precise, too divine to ever be replicated.”

She paused, eyes now gazing far away, as though recalling every experiment she had tried. ”And that’s why, after centuries of knowledge, after countless trials and failures—I’ve come to the conclusion: Max Morgan... cannot be saved. Not as he is. He has to die. Only then, only once his broken body and soul cease to function, can I implant the artificial soul—my creation. A soul not bound by the laws of the world. A synthetic construct that can bear the weight of growth without collapse. Something immortal.”

Lucien said nothing. The silence from him was heavy, his mind caught in a web of horror and consideration. He didn’t like where this was heading. He had known her for so long—trusted her knowledge, respected her brilliance—but she had always been a figure shrouded in shadows, never fully open, always keeping one hand behind her back.

Now, hearing her speak so matter-of-factly about killing Max in order to save him, he felt that same old chill. A reminder that her logic, while brilliant, never cared for emotion or morality—only for results.

”How sure are you?” Lucien finally asked after a long silence, his voice low, weary. ”And tell me,” he added, eyes fixed on her coldly, ”what ingredients have you used to create that artificial soul?”

The Witch of the North smiled, but it wasn’t a comforting one—it was eerie, quiet, laced with fascination. ”I’m fifty percent sure,” she said. ”Maybe sixty, depending on how well the boy’s body reacts. But considering how strangely compatible he is with Infernal energy...” her voice trailed off for a beat before she added with a hint of excitement, ”I’d say the chances are only going up.”

Lucien’s gaze sharpened. ”And the essence?” he pressed.

”The base of my artificial soul...” she said, her fingers gently tapping the table as if each word was carefully weighed, ”was formed using what I extracted from Nulls... and Vespers.”

Lucien froze. His pupils contracted. ”Those creatures?” he muttered, voice tinged with disbelief and growing wariness. His mind raced.

”I see now... so that’s your goal. You want to artificially recreate what Ascendants undergo during Null Transformation.” He paused for a moment, then added darkly, ”Ascendants awaken a second soul... an alter ego forged from their own fears and desires during their first Null Transformation. When they lose control, that soul takes over... a Null Soul. You’re trying to bypass the transformation and implant one directly into Max.”

He added. ”And the awakening of an alter ego or a Null Soul would surely give birth to a new soul in Max’s body.”

Her eyes gleamed with a strange, unnerving brilliance, lips curling upward ever so slightly in that knowing smile of hers. ”You’re right, Lucien. But what I’m going to do won’t create an alter ego. Not even a trace of a Null Soul. That only happens during a proper Null Transformation, when the soul splits and mutates under pressure. Max won’t be going through that. He doesn’t need to.”

She leaned back into her floating chair, gazing into the rippling pink domain above them as if contemplating ancient truths. ”Let me ask you something,” she said, almost too casually. ”What are Nulls, truly?”