Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

While his raw soul strength still needed time to mature, the very structure of his soul made him impervious to every form of soul manipulation, suppression, and destruction.

That alone placed him in a category apart from every other expert of the Lower Domain, perhaps even the Middle Domain. It was a blessing born from a curse.

Max stared silently at the green figure of his soul for a long moment before his gaze shifted—drawn not by will, but by instinct. Just a few meters away, something else flickered in the vast blue world of his Soul Palace. A small red sphere.

At first glance, it seemed insignificant, almost like a speck of color lost in the overwhelming serenity of blue.

But unlike before—when it had simply rested there silently for years like a dormant artifact—it now pulsed. Slowly. Steadily. Like a heart. Like it was... alive. The faint crimson glow it emitted rhythmically shimmered with every beat, as if breathing.

’This red sphere...’ Max narrowed his eyes, a thread of realization creeping up his spine. ’If I’m not wrong, it’s been here long before that day... Even before the incident with my family.’

It had hidden itself well, or perhaps he had simply never been strong enough to perceive its presence before. But now, something had changed. The soul refinement. The artificial soul. His strength. Or maybe something deeper, older, was awakening inside him. He wasn’t sure. And that uncertainty gnawed at him more than anything.

Still, no matter how much he focused or probed with his soul force, the sphere gave him no answers—only that steady, haunting pulse. Red. Alive. Watching.

With a silent shake of his head, Max sighed and withdrew from his Soul Palace, feeling both enlightened and burdened.

”My soul force has also reached the Green Soul stage,” he muttered softly to himself, opening his eyes in the real world. He could feel it clearly now—the vibrant, lively surge of soul energy coursing through him like a second bloodstream.

After his soul had been fixed, it hadn’t just stabilized—it had soared. To reach Green Soul stage in one leap was no small feat.

”What are you planning to do now?” came a voice from behind, calm and unhurried. Max didn’t even bother to turn around—he already knew who it was. That familiar, steady presence could only belong to Lucien.

”Nothing,” Max replied quietly, his gaze locked on the barren land that stretched endlessly around the towering structure behind him. Silence lingered for a moment, then Lucien spoke again, more cautiously this time.

”Have you noticed anything strange? About your soul? About your... self?” he asked, his tone light but layered with concern.

”Nothing that I can tell,” Max responded, his voice calm and even, as if he had already run through those questions in his mind a hundred times.

Lucien gave a small nod and added, ”She wants to check on you—your soul, your state. She believes there might be an issue, something hidden, something even you can’t detect.”

Slowly, Max turned his head and looked at him, eyes blank. ”I’m fine. My soul is fine. I don’t need her help anymore.”

And just like that, without waiting for another word, Max rose into the air and shot off toward the distant continent of Valora, leaving a trail of silence behind.

But Lucien frowned deeply at the response and immediately teleported in front of Max, blocking his path in a flash of light.

Max stopped, a frown creeping onto his face for the first time. ”I said my soul is fine. I don’t need her help.”

Lucien, however, stood firm, his own brows furrowed. ”Then come with me and let the witch check you,” he said sternly.

But that was the final push. Max’s expression twisted slightly, a rare flicker of frustration flashing across his face. ”Don’t you understand my words?” he snapped, and without meaning to, unleashed a surge of soul force. ”I am fine.”

The air trembled, a violent wind rushing out that blew against Lucien’s face like a sharp wave—but he didn’t budge, not physically. Yet even though Lucien remained unaffected on the surface, inwardly, he frowned deep.

”Was that fine, Max?” Lucien asked quietly, his voice neither accusing nor soft—just steady. ”I don’t recall you ever getting this frustrated before. And I certainly don’t recall you ever releasing your soul force like that without even realizing it. Is that what you call fine?”

Max let out a low chuckle, a light smile playing at his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. ”Yeah,” he said, voice casual, almost dismissive. ”That’s my definition of fine. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere I need to be.”

He moved to leave, turning his body slightly—but before he could make another motion, Lucien reappeared in front of him in a blink, his hand shooting out to grab Max’s wrist, firm but not forceful.

That stopped Max cold. He turned his head sharply, a flicker of annoyance tightening his jaw. ”Let it go,” he said, his voice low.

But Lucien didn’t flinch. He met Max’s stare without blinking, eyes locked, his own gaze calm but intense. ”Or what?” he asked.

That was all it took.

Max’s eyes began to glow—a deep, pulsing red—and in the next breath, a rush of infernal energy exploded through his body. It was dark, hot, and volatile. His aura twisted, growing thicker, more oppressive.

Two dark, reddish wings burst out from his back with a fleshy sound, stretching outward with a threatening flare. The transformation was rising fast, spreading across his body, surging toward his head, but just before it could complete—just before the infernal form could fully take over—the entire world around them shifted.

In the blink of an eye, the harshness vanished, swallowed by a sudden, surreal calm. Both Max and Lucien now stood in a strange, dreamlike place... a realm bathed in soft pink light, where the ground didn’t exist and everything floated gently, as if suspended in water.