Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

One was a tall woman with dark crimson-red hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of flame, her eyes sharp and glinting with ancient wisdom, her very presence exuding a quiet, suffocating intensity.

Beside her stood a man with bluish hair, streaked faintly with silver, and a neatly trimmed beard that gave him a regal, commanding aura. He wore a robe embroidered with black-gold dragons, and just his gaze alone made the air feel heavier, as if even mana bowed before him.

Max turned slowly to look at them, his eyes narrowing slightly. In that moment, he instinctively reached out with his senses—but his breath hitched.

Nothing.

He couldn’t read them. Not even a trace of their strength or mana. It was like standing before a veil of endless void, thick and impenetrable. His heartbeat quickened as realization dawned.

’I can’t see their strength... not even a ripple. But the pressure they’re emitting...’ His thoughts paused as he compared it to the strongest being he had ever encountered before—Old Saintess. ’It’s even stronger than hers...’ he concluded silently, his brows furrowing.

These weren’t elders or instructors. These weren’t visiting nobles or senior experts. These were true monsters—apex beings whose mere appearance shifted the balance of power in a room.

The entire hall, filled with proud geniuses from both the mortal and Divine Realms, had fallen silent again, but this silence wasn’t born of awe—it was instinctual fear.

Even the Divine Realm geniuses, who until now had looked down on the proceedings with arrogance, now stood with guarded expressions, their pride dimming in the overwhelming presence of these two newcomers.

The red-robed old man at the front took a stiff step forward, his face pale, his voice strained as he bowed deeply. ”G-Greeting, Lady Virelia... Lord Harthorne... I—This... this disturbance was caused by the Ancient Dragon Scroll...” He gestured weakly to Max, still struggling to find the right words.

The moment he said that, both of the new figures turned their gazes toward Max in unison—eyes sharp, penetrating, and filled with something that went beyond curiosity.

”Mark of Divinity? How is this possible?” Lady Virelia muttered, her usually sharp and composed expression slipping into one of sheer disbelief. Her crimson eyes, normally calm and aloof, now glimmered with something that rarely touched them—genuine shock.

Even though several seconds had passed since that radiant black sphere had entered Max’s body, the aura it left behind had not dissipated. It still lingered around him like a divine mantle—subtle, yet unmistakably sovereign.

The energy was primal, ancient, and unshakable, and no amount of disbelief could deny its existence. It clung to Max’s figure as if the very Laws recognized him, embraced him.

She had lived for centuries, witnessed prodigies rise and fall, and seen countless extraordinary events across both mortal and Divine Realms—but this... she had never expected this.

Not in a thousand lifetimes had she imagined that her assignment to the mortal realms—something she had regarded as routine and mundane—would allow her to witness the emergence of a bearer of the Mark of Divinity.

Beside her, Lord Harthorne gave a low, knowing chuckle, his voice calm but laced with intrigue. ”It seems we have an anomaly here,” he said, smiling faintly as the last traces of that divine aura gently faded from around Max.

His expression bore none of the astonishment seen in others—only deep interest, as though he had been waiting for something like this to happen.

Turning toward the red-robed old man, who still stood pale and reverent, he said with deliberate weight, ”Once the rest of the children have completed their time with the Ancient Dragon Totem, send him to me. With this level of genius, he won’t walk the standard path. He belongs in the Elite Squad.” His words weren’t a suggestion—they were a decree.

The old man, who could barely believe he was still breathing after what he had witnessed today, immediately bowed his head low. ”Yes, Lord Harthorne. As you command.”

Harthorne nodded, satisfied, and without another word, his form began to shimmer. Golden-blue light surrounded his body, like starlight falling into the folds of reality, and a moment later, he vanished from the hall, leaving only a faint ripple in space.

Lady Virelia, still gazing deeply at Max, said nothing. Her crimson hair danced faintly in the lingering currents of divine energy. She studied him for one final moment, as if committing his presence to memory, before her body too began to glow

And in the blink of an eye, she vanished, leaving the hall in silence once more.

”Cough,” the old man cleared his throat lightly, the sound echoing through the tense hall like the breaking of a long-held breath. Everyone flinched slightly, still caught in the aftermath of what they had just witnessed.

Straightening his robe with forced calm, the old man raised his voice, trying to regain order. ”Let’s continue the assessment,” he said, though even he could hear the slight tremor still lingering in his tone.

Max, understanding that the attention on him would linger no matter what, quietly turned and walked back to his place among the other geniuses.

As he returned to the line, he came to a stop beside Henry, who immediately turned toward him with wide, starry eyes. ”You are so cool!” he whispered, practically vibrating with excitement.

Max blinked and gave a helpless, wry chuckle, scratching the back of his head. ”I... wasn’t expecting that either.”

Henry grinned ear to ear. ”Let’s meet again in the Divine Realm when we both ascend there, how about it?” he said, his eyes glimmering with hope and admiration, as though he were speaking to a future legend.

Max’s smile softened. ”Sure,” he said simply, the sincerity in his tone leaving no room for doubt.

As their quiet exchange ended, the assessment resumed. One by one, the remaining geniuses from the mortal worlds stepped up to face the Ancient Dragon Scroll.

And just like before, the results were what they had come to expect—average. Most earned B or C grade evaluations, with very few rising even slightly above.

Though talented in their own right, it became painfully clear how wide the gap had grown between a ”genius” of the mortal world and the anomaly they had just witnessed in Max.

Half an hour passed in this rhythm of muted tension and half-hearted excitement. The earlier energy in the hall had dulled into quiet acceptance, as everyone knew the peak of the trial had already come and gone.

Finally, the red-robed old man raised his hand. ”Well done. The test has ended here,” he announced, his voice steadier now, though his eyes still occasionally flicked toward Max as if to confirm he was still real. ”You may all now proceed to select your own Ancient Dragon Totem Stone. You have two hours to make your decision. Two hours from now, each of you must report back and show me the choice you’ve made.”

With that, he turned around with a subtle wave of his hand, and the massive doors at the back of the hall groaned open, revealing a deeper passage bathed in golden light. Without waiting, he stepped forward, his robe swaying with purpose.

The crowd of young elites, though still shaken, followed in silence—each one about to face the second phase of the trial, but all with one lingering thought in their hearts:

They had witnessed something impossible today. And the shadow of it would follow them for the rest of their lives.