Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Chapter 940: Creating an Army

Even the leaders of the various forces turned solemn.

The tiger-masked leader of the Obsidian Order studied the scene with an unreadable gaze. ”So... the second concept is flames. But these flames... Black Lotus Guild’s flames? One of the deadliest of the flames in this world. I didn’t know he has relations with the Black Lotus Guild. If he’s truly mastered them to the second level, then the world is weighing his worth.”

Emperor Hermes’s gaze sharpened, his tone grave. ”And there are nine of them... This is no ordinary Wraith. This is the embodiment of the flame’s ultimate judgment. At Champion Rank advancement... this is beyond anything I’ve seen.”

President William’s voice cut through the tension, carrying both awe and concern. ”Each of these dragons could reduce a city to nothing in minutes... and here they descend together. If the boy survives even half of them, it will be a miracle for the ages.”

”Survive? You think too highly of him,” the Tower Lord of the Void Soul Tower sneered, his cold gaze locked on the nine colossal dragons spiraling down from the heavens. ”The power inside those black flaming beasts is enough to threaten even a Mythic Rank expert, let alone someone who hasn’t even reached Champion Rank yet.” His voice dripped with disdain, as if Max’s fate had already been decided.

Thunder Lord let out a low, mocking laugh. ”I agree. The kid’s finished. He brought this upon himself.”

His eyes glinted with a mix of ridicule and satisfaction as he continued, ”There’s a reason we walk the path of one concept. It’s not only because time is precious—but because the second Wraith of the World is said to be at least ten times stronger than the first. I read that in some ancient records long ago, and though I can’t say if every word is true, I believe it’s deadly enough... especially since history is clear—there has never been a single person who mastered more than one concept and still survived the Wraith of the World.”

Around them, the murmurs of the crowd grew heavier, the oppressive heat from the dragons pressing down like molten iron. Some people glanced at Max with pity, others with grim certainty, as if watching a man walk willingly into his grave.

As for Max, he watched the nine colossal black flaming dragons descend from the heavens, their golden eyes glaring down at him with an authority that could crush the will of lesser men. The oppressive heat pouring from their bodies distorted the very air, each movement of their titanic forms sending shockwaves that rippled through the void.

Yet, instead of fear, there was a gleam in Max’s eyes—sharp, eager, almost predatory. ’Its power level is almost at the Mythic Rank... but more importantly, these nine flaming beasts each carry the essence of the 3rd level Concept of Flames,’ he thought, his heart pounding with excitement rather than dread. ’If I can consume that power... the 3rd level will be mine.’

Black flames burst to life around him, writhing like a living storm, and in mere moments, they gathered to form a crown—pitch black, burning with a heat that seemed to swallow light itself—resting atop his head.

Then, as if in response, the sky above roared. Another black flaming crown appeared high above, massive and regal, dominating the firmament with its sheer size.

From that vast crown, the first of his creations emerged—sleek black flaming dragons, dozens at first, then hundreds, each exuding a devouring heat that threatened to consume the world. They rushed forward with feral roars, fangs bared, straight toward the nearest of the nine majestic dragons.

The clash was instant and brutal—Max’s smaller dragons crashed against the towering beast in a blaze of fire, only to be torn apart in seconds, their forms shattering into embers under the sheer overwhelming might of the Wraith-born creature.

The second wave followed just as swiftly, swarming a different black flaming dragon, only to be incinerated by a single sweep of its colossal tail.

One after another, his creations were destroyed—ripped apart, crushed, or burned away by the searing flames of the nine, who stood as if nothing in the world could threaten their supremacy.

But Max did not relent. His black crown blazed brighter, and more dragons poured forth in an unending tide. Each loss only fueled the birth of more. Dozens became hundreds, hundreds became an endless swarm, the sky now thick with writhing shapes of flame.

”What... what is he doing now?!” one of the experts in the crowd shouted, eyes wide as he pointed at the sky.

”Is that... an army of dragons?!” another gasped, his voice trembling. ”Hundreds of them... all made of black flames!”

”This is insane!” a young genius from the Burning Heaven Sect exclaimed. ”He’s not defending... he’s going to fight the nine black flaming dragons with his own dragons!”

”Impossible,” an elder from the Void Soul Tower muttered in disbelief. ”The control required for something like that... even a Mythic Rank expert wouldn’t dare attempt it!”

”Look at that crown... it’s pouring out dragons like a river of fire,” a member from the Absolute Sword Palace whispered, his jaw slack. ”Each one is moving with its own intent... its own killing aura...”

”I’ve never seen anything like this,” an older hunter from the Hunter Association said, his hands shaking slightly. ”He’s not just fighting... he’s commanding a flame army.”

”This kid...” a expert from the Great Ruler Empire muttered under his breath, ”is treating the Wraith of the World like a battlefield he owns.”

From the stands, murmurs became roars of astonishment. The crowd’s eyes darted between the colossal flaming crown above and the surging tide of black flaming dragons that poured from it—an overwhelming, unnatural sight that made the sky itself seem ready to collapse.

The nine great dragons fought like gods of destruction, burning and tearing apart every challenger, yet for every black flame dragon that fell, three more emerged to take its place.

Slowly—painfully slowly—the pressure began to mount on the nine. Their movements grew heavier, their roars sharper, as the relentless tide refused to give them a single breath.