Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Chapter 1128  Tribal Lord Igris!

He shifted his gaze again, scanning every cluster of survivors to be certain. There were no signs of her anywhere. Not among the injured, not among the ones who had gathered near the other village chiefs. Even the surviving champions who had fought alongside her before did not seem to know where she had gone.

A faint thought crossed his mind, quiet but sharp. ʼSo she really managed to escape.ʼ

His expression remained calm, but his eyes glimmered faintly with curiosity. The last time he had seen her was inside that hidden chamber where the battle for the Holy Nectar had taken place. She had used a strange treasure—a golden light that had enveloped her body—and in the blink of an eye, she had vanished completely.

There had been no spatial fluctuation, no trace of her aura, and not even his Three Dimensional Body had been able to track her movement.

He had assumed then that she had escaped somewhere deeper into the tunnels. Seeing her absence now only confirmed it.

ʼShe must have escaped far when she used her treasure to escape from me,ʼ Max thought, his eyes narrowing slightly. ʼA treasure capable of instant movement even in that kind of sealed domain isnʼt ordinary. It must have been something extremely rare, probably an ancient relic from her family or force.ʼ

He looked up toward the horizon, where faint pillars of light shimmered from the runes laid out for the upcoming ceremony. The giant dwarves were still preparing for the announcement of the Tribal Lord, their rhythmic chants echoing softly through the air. The world seemed calm on the surface, but Maxʼs mind remained sharp and alert.

When the sun sank low, the faint hum of runes spread across the stone ground. The Tribal Overseer, an ancient giant dwarf draped in silver and bronze robes, stepped forward. His beard reached his waist, and his eyes glowed faintly with golden light. He held in his hand a ceremonial staff engraved with thousands of ancient runes, each flickering softly.

”The time has come,” the overseer announced, his voice deep and resonant. ”The trial of the Holy Nectar has ended. The champions have returned, and now we will decide who among the villages has brought the greatest offering.”

At his words, each village chief stepped forward, holding the bottle of Holy Nectar collected by their champion. The bottles were placed carefully on a massive slab of violet stone in front of the overseer.

There were sixteen bottles in total, each glowing faintly with golden radiance. The overseer raised his staff, and the runes carved into the stone slab began to shine. One by one, the bottles floated upward and released faint golden streams of light. The higher the light rose, the greater the amount of Holy Nectar within.

The first few bottles glowed weakly, their light reaching only to the overseerʼs chest before fading away. Murmurs rippled through the crowd. It was clear that those champions had barely survived, bringing back very little.

Then came a few bottles that shone brighter, the golden streams reaching higher, touching the top of the overseerʼs staff. These belonged to the champions of the stronger villages, their chiefs standing proud yet silent.

Finally, Chief Igris stepped forward. His armor gleamed faintly, his heavy steps echoing against the stone ground as he approached the slab. Without saying a word, he placed his bottle on it and stepped back beside Max.

The moment the bottle touched the slab, the runes flared violently. The golden light burst out like a beam, soaring high into the air. It climbed past the overseer, past the height of the other bottles, and continued upward until it reached the sky itself.

The crowd erupted in gasps and murmurs. The light was pure and overwhelming, radiating through the entire camp. For a moment, it seemed as though the sun itself had descended upon the wasteland.

”Level nine…” the overseer whispered in disbelief, his voice echoing across the silence. ”The bottle is filled to the ninth level.”

The other chiefs looked at Chief Igris with a mix of awe and resignation. None of them had seen such a result in countless years. The best anyone had ever achieved was seven levels. But nine—nine was something legendary.

The overseer struck his staff against the ground, and the golden light began to condense into a single beam that spiraled upward before exploding into countless sparks, showering the entire assembly in light.

”The result is clear!” the overseer declared, his deep voice booming through the air. ”Chief Igris of the Southern Forge Village has brought the greatest amount of Holy Nectar and shall now be appointed as Tribal Lord of the Giant Dwarven Tribe!”

A thunderous cheer erupted from the villagers. The ground trembled under the sound of their unified voices. The giant dwarves raised their hammers and weapons into the air, their chants echoing like a storm across the wasteland.

”Tribal Lord! Tribal Lord! Tribal Lord!”

Chief Igris, usually so stern and composed, allowed himself a rare smile. He stepped forward as the overseer motioned for him to kneel. The elder dwarf lifted the ceremonial staff, and a bright golden rune emerged from its tip, descending slowly onto Chief Igrisʼs forehead.

The rune burned faintly for a moment before sinking into his skin, leaving behind a faint golden mark shaped like a hammer crossed with a flame. The mark pulsed once, then stabilized, signifying his authority over all dwarven villages in the violet wasteland.

The overseer raised his staff once more. ”From this day forth,” he proclaimed, ”Igris, Chief of the Southern Forge Village, shall lead all our kin as Tribal Lord. His word shall be law among the giant dwarves, and his strength shall be our pride.”

The villagers cheered again, pounding their hammers against the ground in celebration. The rhythmic thunder echoed for miles.

Max stood quietly beside Igris, his eyes calm. The ceremony reminded him of the old rituals he had witnessed in his own world.

Chief Igris turned to Max and spoke softly, his deep voice almost drowned by the cheering crowd. ”You made this possible. Without you, this title would have belonged to another. I will keep my promise, Max. The knowledge of the Seven Divine Veins will be yours.”

Max nodded slightly, his expression composed. ”Thatʼs all I need.”

As the chants continued and the celebration spread through the village, Max glanced once more at the violet horizon. Tanyaʼs absence still lingered in his thoughts. She had escaped with her life, but he knew she wouldnʼt stay hidden forever.

For now, though, he allowed himself a moment of quiet satisfaction. The trial was over. The Tribal Lord had been chosen. And his path toward unlocking the Seven Divine Veins was about to begin.