Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

A quiet sigh came from another corner of the table. It was Old Fifth, whose aura rippled like gentle waves across the hall. ”We understand your desire, Old Sixth,” he said softly. ”But you know how Old Man First is. Once he makes a decision, no one can move him. He must have his reasons for halting the trial’s progression.”

Old Seventh added, his tone calm but authoritative, ”Interfering now would only disrupt the balance of the trials. Each test flows into the next under the pattern set by the Domain’s Heart. If you force your trial to begin, it could break that balance. You know this as well as I do.”

For a moment, silence filled the hall. The mist rippled faintly as Old Sixth sat back, clearly frustrated. ”I know that,” he muttered. ”But I cannot help it. That boy’s soul resonates with my domain. He is the perfect candidate for my inheritance. The first perfect one in all these countless eras.”

The others didn’t speak for a while. They all knew Old Sixth’s words were true. Each of them had watched countless geniuses pass through their trials, but finding someone whose essence perfectly aligned with a divine inheritance was rarer than the birth of a new star.

Finally, Old Second spoke, his deep voice echoing through the hall. ”You may be right, but it’s not your decision alone. The boy is under Old Man First’s gaze now, and you know what that means.”

At that, the air in the room shifted. Every Lord’s attention turned toward Old Man First once again. His presence felt different from the others. While the others emanated elemental or cosmic power, his was something entirely beyond comprehension. It was quiet, immeasurable, and absolute.

Even without moving, his existence suppressed the space around him. It was said that among the Seven, Old Man First was the most ancient and the strongest—the one whose very will shaped the structure of the secret domain itself.

He remained silent for a long while, his focus still on the image of Max sitting calmly in the dark void. When he finally spoke, his voice was faint, yet it carried through the entire ship as though the air itself bent to deliver it.

”Let him be,” Old Man First said softly. ”He has not yet seen the shape of silence.”

The others exchanged glances. None of them truly understood what he meant, but none dared to question him. His words were never to be taken lightly. They often carried meanings beyond what could be grasped in a single moment.

Old Sixth exhaled slowly, his tone resigned. ”You’re always like this, Old Man First. Speaking in riddles, giving no explanation. Very well then. I will wait.”

Old Fourth chuckled quietly. ”You say that every time, and yet you’re always the first to complain again.”

Old Sixth shot him a glare, though it held no true malice. ”I know, but this one feels different. The boy has potential far greater than the others. He could truly bridge the opposites.”

Old Fifth nodded faintly. ”Perhaps that’s exactly why Old Man First is watching him.”

At that, the room fell silent once again. None of them spoke, and all turned their gazes back toward the projection, where Max continued to sit unmoving in the eternal void.

The faint hum of the ancient ship filled the silence.

----

Max was completely unaware that his calm meditation within the void had drawn the gaze of one of the most enigmatic beings in existence—Old Man First, the most mysterious and powerful among the Seven Divine Lords.

He remained seated, cross-legged, his posture unwavering, his eyes closed as he waited patiently for the second part of the trial to begin. The stillness around him was absolute. No energy fluctuated, no sound echoed, and no time seemed to pass.

It was as though he had been suspended in an eternal moment, one that neither began nor ended.

He didn’t fidget or question what was taking so long. For him, waiting was not a challenge. Patience had long become one of his greatest weapons.

Inside his Dimension of Time, he had already experienced what felt like millennia in isolation—years spent meditating in silence, training without distraction, and exploring the depths of his soul. This waiting, no matter how long, was nothing in comparison.

Outside the darkness that surrounded him, other geniuses continued their journey through the trials. After the first part of the trial concluded, several of them successfully entered the second stage—the domain of ice.

These were the geniuses who had already comprehended the Fourth Level Concept of Flames, qualifying them to attempt mastery over the opposing element. One by one, doors of shimmering frost appeared before them, leading into the realm of glacial serenity where the second trial awaited.

For those who entered, the world they found was the complete opposite of the first part. Where the flame domain had been bright, blazing, and alive, the ice domain was silent, cold, and ethereal.

The air shimmered with a crystalline clarity, and the ground was covered in frost so pure it reflected light like glass. It was a place that tested endurance and balance, where movement was punished and composure rewarded.

Among the many who stepped into this frozen world was Chris. Though he had failed to grasp even the first level of the Flame Concept, the trial still recognized his qualification to continue. The reason was simple—his Ice Spirit Physique and his comprehension of ice concept at 3rd level.

That physique was a treasure among natural-born talents, granting him an affinity toward ice that transcended common comprehension. When he placed his hand on the icy door, it had responded immediately, glowing with soft blue light and pulling him inside as though welcoming him home.

His twin sister, Christine, who had already mastered the Fourth Level Concept of Flames, was also there. The twins, though opposite in nature, stood side by side in the cold realm, their powers complementing one another like two halves of a single whole.

For them, this was not just about understanding the concept of ice or flame. Their goal was the inheritance that lay beyond—the unity between opposites. They sought to bridge fire and frost, a balance that few in history had ever achieved.

While the others faced the beauty and terror of their frozen trial, Max remained seated in the endless void, untouched by the passage of time. The silence stretched on endlessly. No change came, no path opened, and no voice spoke to him. But even so, he remained perfectly composed. His breathing was slow and steady, his thoughts silent and clear.

Then, after what could have been minutes or centuries, something shifted. It was subtle at first, almost imperceptible. The air—or whatever passed for air in this place—seemed to tremble faintly. A low vibration passed through the void, so deep that it could be felt more than heard. The blackness around him stirred like a still lake disturbed by a single drop of water.

Max’s eyes opened slowly. The darkness rippled outward in circular waves, distorting space itself. The endless void that had been still for so long began to move. It was as if the world had finally taken a breath after an eternity of silence.

’So it begins,’ Max thought calmly as he rose to his feet.

The ripples continued to expand until the entire space around him seemed to pulse with invisible energy. From the center of the darkness, faint lines of light appeared, forming intricate symbols that shimmered faintly before fading.

The ground beneath his feet began to change, becoming smooth and reflective like glass. Slowly, the darkness thinned, revealing faint glimmers of something hidden beneath it—an outline of light in the shape of a circle, vast and endless.

For the first time since entering this place, Max felt a faint chill crawl through the air. It wasn’t an ordinary coldness. It was sharp, pure, and ancient, a cold that seemed to exist beyond temperature itself.

The second part of the trial was finally awakening.