Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

That wasn’t because they were weak. In fact, the opposite was true. Most skills had terrifying potential once they reached level 20. The problem, however, was just how incredibly difficult it was to push them that far.

Raising a skill to level 20 was a monumental task, one that could take years or even decades, depending on its rank. Because of that, a common saying echoed through the halls of many forces alike: ”In the time it takes to raise one skill to level 20, you could master five techniques instead.”

Max had felt this sentiment deeply, especially after seeing how geniuses like Silus and Elias fought. During both their battles, neither of them had used any skills. They relied purely on techniques, concepts, inheritance and overwhelming force.

That fact had puzzled him at first—after all, didn’t they have access to the best resources in the Middle Domain? Shouldn’t they possess extraordinary skills? But it was only after reading the diary of the Old Saintess that the puzzle had clicked into place.

She had written about how Legendary Rank skills, while powerful, were seldom pursued to the end. Most people simply didn’t have the luxury of time when constant breakthroughs and survival dictated their pace. Investing years into a single skill that might never reach its peak was a gamble most didn’t dare take.

And yet there was one big reason that made people looked away from the skills.

The true power of a Legendary Rank skill, as Max had come to understand, could only shine up to the peak of the Master Rank. Beyond that point, the difference in strength between each rank grew so vast that the enhancements provided by even the best Legendary Rank skills simply couldn’t keep up.

It was like trying to use a bucket to contain a flood—no matter how refined the bucket, it wasn’t enough.

Once an expert stepped into the Champion Rank and beyond, those once-reliable skills became increasingly irrelevant in direct combat. At that stage only a skill at level 100 mastery could show its true prowess but achieving that was next to impossible.

The only kind of skill that could potentially retain its value beyond the Master Rank aside from increasing level mastery to level 100 was a mythical Demigod Rank skill, but those were so rare and mysterious that most believed they were nothing more than ancient rumors passed down through fragmented scrolls and half-erased monuments.

Because of this reality, experts in the Middle Domain rarely bothered with skills at all—at least not for combat purposes. If they did learn any, it was usually something supportive—healing skills, barrier formations, or special utility-based skills meant to assist in travel, concealment, or survival.

It was simply a matter of practicality. In a world where raw power decided life or death, skills that couldn’t scale with one’s rank were viewed as inefficient detours on the path to true strength.

Max took a deep breath, letting his thoughts settle as he made his way into the skill section of the Empire Library. Compared to the sword techniques area, this section felt far more silent, almost desolate—clearly reflecting how underappreciated skills had become in the Middle Domain.

But Max wasn’t discouraged. His mind was clear. ”From my experience, only a skill at level 100 mastery could keep up with one’s own strength,” he muttered under his breath, recalling how his every skill—once weak—became devastating when its mastery rose.

He believed firmly that even if the world dismissed skills, it was only because they didn’t have the means to truly master them. If a Legendary Rank skill could reach level 100 in mastery, then its power would easily rival many techniques, and it would be molded perfectly to the user’s strength.

With that mindset, he scanned the towering shelves filled with skill scrolls, most sealed behind transparent energy layers. Each shelf shimmered with faint golden light, and the further in he walked, the thicker the pressure became—proof that stronger and rarer skills were stored deeper inside.

Max’s eyes flickered over hundreds of combat skills—fists, kicks, roars, even elemental burst attacks—but he was searching for something unique, something versatile, something with potential.

Finally, his gaze landed on an aged black scroll locked behind a reinforced barrier with an ancient plaque beneath it that read: ”Phantom Devour Claw – Legendary Rank Combat Skill.” Its description mentioned high compatibility with energy-devouring abilities, extreme close-range lethality, and the ability to tear through both matter and energy when the skill was mastered beyond level 50.

Max’s eyes gleamed. This was it. A perfect match for his fighting style and black flames. Without hesitation, he placed his hand on the barrier. The scroll floated into his palm, and in that moment, Max knew—he had found the one skill worth mastering to level 100.

But beyond that was an endgame level difficulty.

”Upgrading a Legendary Rank skill beyond the Limitbreaker Realm to the Demigod Rank seems like an impossible task at the moment,” Max muttered, his voice tinged with frustration and contemplation.

It had been a long while since all his skills had broken past the standard boundaries of Legendary Rank and entered the Limitbreaker Realm—a stage achieved only by surpassing level 100 mastery. Yet, ever since they had reached that threshold, it was as though they had slammed into an invisible wall.

No matter how hard he trained, how long he stayed in the Dimension of Time to compress years into hours, nothing had changed. The skills remained at a standstill—refusing to evolve, no matter the effort. He hadn’t slacked. He hadn’t neglected their practice.

In fact, every time he entered his dimension, he would cycle through his training with each skill, refining them, testing them, and experimenting with how far he could push their limits. But it was clear now—this stagnation wasn’t a matter of dedication or time. It was a matter of boundaries.

”It seems like Demigod Rank is a major boundary,” Max muttered again, his brows furrowed as he thought it through. From everything he had gathered, he was beginning to believe that Demigod Rank wasn’t simply the next step on the ladder—it was a different world entirely.

If Legendary Rank represented the absolute peak of mortal comprehension and mastery, then Demigod Rank must lie in a space between the mortal and the divine. A liminal state that belonged neither here nor there.

And that would explain why the advancement was so slow—so impossible. It was like trying to drag a mortal soul toward divinity without the proper key. The weight of understanding settled in his chest like a stone.

No wonder no one talked about Demigod Rank skills. If such a thing existed, they were no longer just skills—they were transcendence given form. And Max realized now, until he could step half a foot into that divine domain himself, his skills would remain where they were... at the edge of something beyond his current reach.

”I guess I simply lack the power to wield a Demigod Rank skill,” Max muttered with a quiet sigh, his voice tinged with a mix of resignation and understanding.

He had come to terms with it—not all doors could be forced open. Some had to be unlocked with time, strength, and growth.

Shaking his head slightly, he turned and made his way toward the exit of the Empire Library. The grand structure, filled with ancient knowledge and priceless techniques, had a strict protocol: entry through one gate, exit through another. It was a rule, clearly enforced, and no one dared to question it.

As he neared the designated exit, Max found himself standing before a long, rune-etched desk manned by a calm-looking woman in robes of silver and blue. In front of her was a crystalline device that glowed faintly with a golden hue—used for registering and exchanging items taken from the library for PQs.

There was a small line where geniuses were standing waiting for their turns.

It was here all official transactions were finalized.

Max didn’t know much but he understood something about PQ as it was mentioned in the diary given to him by Old Saintess.

PQ—short for Primordial Quartz—was the most widely accepted currency in the Middle Domain. It could be used to buy techniques, weapons, pills, or even hire experts if needed. As long as one had enough PQ, there were very few things in the Middle Domain they couldn’t obtain.