Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

A full week slipped by inside the twisted world of Nullaria, and in that time the young geniuses—guided, watched, and sharpened by Max—swept through the land like a silent storm.

Ten demon lairs were erased from existence. Ten pockets of corrupted life, gone. The demons inside those lairs were hardly weak by normal standards; each lair held three or four peak Divine Rank demons along with dozens of mid-ranks.

Yet the young geniuses now stood so far above their former selves that fighting these demons felt no more demanding than clearing low-rank dungeons.

The battles were swift, decisive, and frighteningly efficient.

Squad leaders coordinated their teams with precision.

Members adapted and cooperated without hesitation.

And every time a demon fell, the geniuses grew sharper.

To them, this was experience they desperately needed.

To the demons, it was an encroaching nightmare.

Max watched each lair fall from the shadows. He rarely interfered. He simply observed from a distance—silent, invisible, his presence masked by the perfect harmony of his Invisibility Skill and his Black Soul. Not even the Ascendants patrolling Nullaria could sense him. Unless Mark himself descended, Max was an unseen ghost to every being in this cursed world.

Each lair’s destruction gave him more insight into the growth of these young fighters, and at the same time clarified a truth he had already sensed.

This peace would not last.

The upper echelons of the demon race would not sit idle after losing ten lairs. They were cunning, suspicious, and ruthless. They would soon realize something was wrong. And when they did, they would act.

’I wonder how they’ll do when things get serious,’ Max thought as he stood atop a jagged cliff overlooking the ruins of the tenth lair. The geniuses were down below, celebrating lightly after the final demon corpse turned to ash. Their spirits were high. Their teamwork was smoother than before. Their killing intent had matured. But Max wasn’t watching their joy.

He watched their weaknesses.

He watched their hesitation in isolated battles.

He watched the way some of them still relied too much on support from their leaders.

He watched how they reacted when a demon used tricks instead of brute force.

’Against ordinary peak Divine Rank demons, they’re fine,’ Max mused quietly. ’But if someone like Balthazar shows up...’

He exhaled slowly.

That was the real concern.

Balthazar was not just strong.

He was unpredictable.

He tricked opponents into giving him openings.

He hid his true strength behind words and smiles.

Max had crossed paths with him many times, and even though Balthazar had rarely shown his full power, it had been enough. The man radiated danger. He had a way of slipping out of death like an eel, and a way of turning situations to his advantage with nothing but a few lazy words.

If any of the young geniuses faced him one-on-one, even the strongest among them might fall.

’In a group they stand a chance,’ Max thought. ’But alone... even Victor or Seraphina might not hold out against him.’

He folded his arms, watching the young geniuses laugh below as the last of the demonic ashes were scattered by Nullaria’s cold winds.

They had grown.

They had become stronger.

But the real test was still ahead.

’Sooner or later the higher demons will respond. And when that happens... either they rise to another level or they break.’

Max closed his eyes briefly.

He wasn’t worried about himself.

He wasn’t worried about fighting Balthazar again.

He was worried about whether any of these geniuses could stand tall on their own after he left this world.

’They need to see what true danger looks like. They need to stand before a monster and refuse to collapse. Otherwise, humanity will crumble again the moment I am gone.’

He opened his eyes and watched his group with a quiet determination.

The cleansing of ten demon lairs was only the beginning.

The true war in Nullaria had yet to start.

”Alright, this is it for now.” Max said. ”Head to the camp.”

----

The resting camp lay quiet beneath Nullaria’s dim sky, wrapped in that unsettling green gloom that never changed.

After seven straight days of nonstop combat, the young geniuses had finally been granted a pause. Their bodies could fight for months without strain, but their minds were another matter altogether. Mental exhaustion had settled into their bones like a cold weight, rarely acknowledged yet impossible to ignore.

As soon as they reached camp and found the rows of makeshift beds inside their tents, they collapsed without hesitation. No one even bothered to remove armor or clean the demon blood from their clothes.

Sleep claimed them in an instant. Breathing evened out. Weapons lay untouched at their sides. A strange peace settled over the battlefield veterans who had just begun to understand what real war meant.

At the center of the camp, a small fire crackled softly. Its orange glow pushed weakly against the unnatural darkness of Nullaria, giving the surroundings a fragile warmth. Max sat there on a small boulder gaze fixed on the flames.

Around him sat the seven squad leaders—Victor, Seraphina, Arthur, Chris, Christine, Daniel, and Michael. Their faces were illuminated by the firelight, each expression serious, each posture attentive.

They had fought well. They had led well.

But they still had questions.

And doubts.

Victor leaned forward, brows drawn low as he stared at Max. ”So you’re saying none of us can hold our ground against Balthazar?”

The others shifted slightly, watching Max closely. Seraphina’s sharp eyes narrowed with silent curiosity. Arthur looked troubled. Daniel and Michael exchanged a glance. Christine’s shoulders stiffened. Chris exhaled sharply, waiting for Max’s answer.

Max didn’t respond immediately. He watched the flame dance for a few seconds more as though the answer was written in its patterns. Then he lifted his head, eyes calm, voice steady.

”It’s not that you can’t,” Max said, his tone gentle yet firm. ”It’s that you aren’t ready yet.”

He let the words settle before he continued.

”You need to understand something. Balthazar has lived for thousands of years. That means thousands of years spent fighting, surviving, scheming, learning, killing, and adapting. He didn’t reach where he is by relying on talent alone. He reached that level through accumulation. Layer after layer of experience, decision making, strategic sense, instincts that no young genius can possess.”

He looked around at them one by one.

”In comparison, none of you have lived even a hundred years. Not one.”

Seraphina frowned slightly, but she didn’t refute him. The truth was the truth.