Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Arriving outside the cave, Max was met with a sight that immediately captured his attention. Spread out before him was a small village unlike any he had seen before. The structures were not delicate or refined but solid, built for endurance rather than beauty.

The houses were carved from massive boulders, packed with layers of brick and hardened earth that gave them the look of fortresses rather than homes. Their walls were thick and uneven, yet they radiated a sense of permanence, as though they had stood there for countless generations without yielding to time.

The village was arranged in a broad circular pattern. The largest dwellings stood near the center, their roofs curving slightly inward as if shaped to bear the immense weight of stone. Surrounding these were smaller houses, still immense compared to anything Max had ever seen, lined neatly in rings that spread outward.

Pathways made of pressed earth and fragments of rock connected each home, and though they were wide, they still seemed narrow when compared to the size of the beings that walked them.

All around, giant dwarves moved about with deliberate steps. Their sheer size made the entire village feel smaller than it truly was, yet their presence was not chaotic. Some carried bundles of stone or wood across their broad shoulders, others worked with massive hammers and chisels at blocks of rock, shaping them for construction. A few sat near fire pits where slabs of meat, larger than a human’s torso, roasted slowly.

Max noticed how they were clothed. Each giant dwarf wore garments woven from thick cloth and leather, bound with belts of bronze or iron. Their clothes were not extravagant, but they were practical, designed for both durability and movement.

Many had long braided beards, some bound with metal rings, while others wore simple bands across their foreheads carved with symbols that glowed faintly in the light.

Despite their size, the village carried a sense of order and discipline. The air was filled with deep, resonant sounds—the pounding of hammers on stone, the rumble of footsteps, and the occasional murmur of voices too low for Max to make out clearly. Smoke rose slowly from several hearths, curling into the violet-tinged sky above the wasteland.

Max stood still for a moment, taking in the entirety of the village. It was clear that this place was not a temporary settlement but the heart of a community that had lived here for generations. These giant dwarves were not wild beasts, but an organized people with their own culture, their own way of life, and their own trials.

Just then one of the towering dwarves turned his head and spotted Max standing at the mouth of the cave. The giant’s heavy steps carried him forward quickly, and soon he stood before Max, his massive frame casting a long shadow over him. His ember-like eyes widened slightly, and his deep voice rumbled with surprise. ”Human, you are awake!”

Max inclined his head in acknowledgment. ”I am awake, but you sound surprised,” he replied calmly. His gaze sharpened as he recognized the dwarf. ”Aren’t you the one who gave us the pieces of meat?” It was the same giant he had seen in the cave, the one who had silently placed food before them.

”Call me Etor,” the dwarf said, his tone steady but curious. His massive arms folded across his chest before he continued. ”Yes, I was the one who gave you meat. Usually, when humans stumble into our settlement—and it happens every few years—it takes them three or four pieces of meat before they can even begin to adapt to the pressure of our village. But you, human, you managed it with just one piece.”

”I see,” Max answered, his expression thoughtful. His mind moved quickly, trying to make sense of what Etor said. He wondered if the reason was tied to his own body. His dragon scales and his one thousand Draconic Essences had already been adapting to the immense pressure. Perhaps the meat had accelerated the process, fusing with his body’s natural resilience and allowing him to withstand what should have crushed him completely.

Etor watched him in silence for a moment before his voice rumbled again. ”Human, follow me. I will take you to the village chief.”

”The village chief?” Max raised his brows slightly, curiosity sparking in his eyes. A leader of beings like these must hold authority and strength worth seeing. Maybe he would know about the trial and opportunities about this place for him. ”Very well. Lead the way.”

Etor gave a single nod and turned, his enormous frame moving with surprising control despite its size. His footsteps shook the ground, but they were measured, almost ceremonial in rhythm.

Max followed behind, his eyes darting from side to side as he took in the strange village of the giant dwarves. The stone houses, the fire pits, the smiths pounding at rock, and the deep rumbling voices all blended together into a world both alien and ancient.

Step by step, guided by Etor, Max was being led deeper into the heart of the village.

Etor led Max away from the main circle of the village and into an area that resembled a great open courtyard, almost like a backyard hidden behind the central dwellings. The ground here was firmer, stamped flat by the countless heavy footsteps of the giants who gathered often in this place.

Several giant dwarves stood around, their voices deep and resonant as they spoke and laughed among themselves. Their words were incomprehensible to Max, yet the tones carried a sense of camaraderie, a bond forged through centuries of shared life.

At the center of the yard stood a massive fire pit. Flames licked upward from it, and upon the iron supports rested a cauldron so vast it could have served as a pond for ordinary humans. Inside, a stew boiled steadily, sending up thick white steam laced with a rich and savory aroma. Max immediately recognized the smell—it was the same as the meat he had eaten in the cave, warm and dense with energy.

As Etor approached with Max at his side, the other dwarves fell quiet. Their ember-colored eyes shifted toward the human, curiosity etched on their faces. It was not common for them to see humans walking this freely.

Usually, those who entered the village required three or four pieces of the enchanted meat before their bodies adapted enough to rise. This one had managed it with a single piece, and that alone set him apart. Their murmurs carried both surprise and disbelief, though no one stepped forward.