Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Max nodded, slowly absorbing every word. So it had been his bloodline that the scroll had responded to. It had sensed something different in him. That’s why it chose him. That’s why he had been marked.

”I understand...” Max murmured. But still, one more question hung in his heart—one that had unsettled him ever since he saw the strange quote in the system’s notification.

”Is there... any benefit to the mark?” he asked. ”Anything at all?”

The quote had felt ominous—’Should the mark burn bright, thrones shall crumble and stars shall weep...’—it was cryptic, almost like a warning dressed as prophecy. He needed to know if there was something good about it.

”Nobody knows,” came a quiet voice from the side.

Max turned, eyes meeting Lady Virelia’s.

She stepped forward slightly, her arms still crossed but her gaze firm. ”The Mark of Divinity is one of the many mysteries of the Black Dragon Palace. Even in the records spanning millennia, there is no clarity. It is a power wrapped in legend. No one knows where it comes from, what it fully does, or what path it ultimately leads to. All we know is that... very few have ever received it.” She paused, her voice solemn now.

The room fell into a brief silence after her words.

Max stood still, mind racing.

”You can go and rest for the day,” Lord Harthorne said with a light smile, his tone warm yet composed. ”Starting tomorrow, Lady Virelia will begin guiding you through the process of completing your inheritance. She will also oversee your training and offer you the knowledge required for the path ahead.”

His words held the finality of a command and the care of a teacher entrusting his best pupil to another.

Max nodded in understanding, giving both Lord Harthorne and Instructor Virelia a respectful bow before taking a step back.

Just then, the heavy door behind him opened with a soft click, and a middle-aged man walked in. He was dressed in simple but well-fitted robes, his aura calm and efficient like a seasoned servant who had served powerful people his whole life.

”Silus,” Lord Harthorne addressed him without turning his head, ”take Max to his dormitory. Give him the privileged one.”

”As you command, my lord,” Silus bowed deeply, then turned to Max with a polite gesture. ”Shall we?”

Max offered a short nod, still absorbing the enormity of what had just happened in this room. Without a word, he followed Silus out, the doors closing quietly behind them.

Once Max was gone, Lord Harthorne leaned back slightly in his chair, his eyes still fixed on the door for a moment longer before shifting toward Lady Virelia. ”So,” he asked with calm interest, ”what do you think?”

Lady Virelia exhaled softly, her eyes thoughtful but serious. ”He is good,” she said plainly. ”But I will need to see for myself if he’s good enough.”

Her voice held no arrogance, only careful discernment. ”His bloodline is... unique. It bears the mark of the Black Dragon Chaotic Bloodline, yes—but when I stood before him, I could not suppress him. Not even a little. It felt as if I was standing in front of someone whose bloodline existed on the same level as mine.”

Lord Harthorne’s smile deepened as he nodded slowly, clearly unsurprised. ”Hmm... truly a strange one,” he murmured. ”But a good one.”

Then his gaze drifted away, more distant now, his tone dropping into something far more serious. ”I cannot see through his fate.”

Lady Virelia turned to him sharply, eyes narrowing with disbelief. ”What?” she asked, startled. ”You can’t see through his fate?”

It was no small claim. She knew well that the man before her—Lord Harthorne—was not just a city master. In the Divine Realm, he was one of the most powerful individuals in the Black Dragon Palace, a peerless powerhouse who had voluntarily taken this position in the mortal realm simply to avoid the chaotic power struggles within the main palace.

For someone of his level to say such a thing about a mortal-born genius...

”Usually,” Lord Harthorne said with a calmness that made the weight of his words even heavier, ”when there is a great difference in strength between myself and another—especially someone from the mortal world—I can catch glimpses. A thread here, a sliver there. Enough to gauge a potential path.”

He paused.

”But this time,” he continued quietly, ”when I looked into his fate... it was pitch black. Nothing. Like staring into a void that refused to yield even a reflection.”

Lady Virelia stood still, the flickering light from the brazier casting silent shadows across her thoughtful expression.

”Let’s see how he does in the Nine Dragons Painting,” Lord Harthorne said with a faint smile, his gaze drifting toward the wall behind Max’s recently vacated seat. His tone was calm, but there was a quiet anticipation behind it, the kind that only surfaced when something—or someone—defied the natural order.

”Though I must admit,” he continued, almost to himself now, ”I’m quite curious what totem he’ll choose to complete his inheritance. With someone like him, even the totems might respond differently...”

”We’ll know by tomorrow,” Lady Virelia replied, her voice steady, her composure returned. The earlier surprise in her tone had been buried again beneath her usual calmness.

”He’s from Acaris, in the Thousand Vine Sector. And if I remember correctly...” She paused, her eyes narrowing slightly with recollection. ”The ascension tunnel of that planet has been broken for at least a few million years. No one from there has reached the Divine Realm in all that time.”

She let the thought hang for a moment, then added flatly, ”I need to go to the Divine Realm. I’ll be back before tomorrow.” Her words were simple, but Lord Harthorne could hear the urgency and weight beneath them.

He nodded easily, still leaning into his chair, folding one leg over the other. ”Go on,” he said, waving his hand gently. ”You’re free to do as you please, Virelia.”

She gave a short nod, turned on her heel, and walked out of the room without another word, her figure vanishing into the corridor like a fading ember.

Left alone, Lord Harthorne stared for a moment at the quiet door, then let out a soft chuckle beneath his breath. ”Are you so sure he’ll perform well that you’ve become this eager, Virelia...?” he muttered, his voice barely audible. His smile thinned slightly, and his gaze turned distant, reflective.

***

Max was led through a winding corridor and finally arrived before a tall, polished door that shimmered faintly under the magical light embedded in the ceiling.

With a respectful nod, Silus opened the door for him, revealing the room within. It was spacious—easily twice the size of any chamber Max had stayed in before—and radiated an air of quiet elegance.

The floors were made of dark obsidian tiles veined with faint streaks of glowing crimson, and the walls were lined with polished wooden shelves that held everything from scrolls and cultivation manuals to thick leather-bound tomes.

A grand bed stood at the center, its sheets softer than silk and layered in fire-essence-infused fabric for optimal rest.

There were several amenities: a jade table for writing, an altar for meditation, a bathing chamber glowing with steam, and even a small rack for personal weapons.

”I will take my leave now,” Silus said calmly, his voice low and respectful. Without waiting for a reply, he gave Max a polite bow and quietly exited, closing the door behind him to leave Max alone in silence.