Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Chapter 1127: Missing Tanya!

Max smiled faintly. Without a word, he reached into his spatial space and took out the bottle of Holy Nectar, holding it out toward Chief Igris. The golden liquid shimmered through the translucent vessel, glowing faintly like molten sunlight.

Chief Igris took it from him carefully, his large hands dwarfing the small bottle. His expression was neutral at first, but as his eyes scanned the markings on its surface, his composure faltered. The golden fluid had risen nearly to the top—the bottle was filled all the way to the ninth level.

A rare flicker of surprise crossed his face. Even for him, who had seen many champions return from this trial, it was an exceptional sight.

“You did good,” Chief Igris said finally, his deep voice carrying warmth for the first time since Max had met him. A faint, almost imperceptible smile appeared on his face. “Very good, in fact. I did not expect this result, but you have surpassed every champion I have trained before.”

He looked up from the bottle, meeting Max’s calm gaze. “You have done more than just secure my position as Tribal Lord. You have proven yourself as someone beyond the standards of any ordinary genius.”

Max nodded slightly, his expression composed, though there was a quiet satisfaction in his eyes.

Chief Igris closed the bottle carefully and secured it in a reinforced pouch before continuing. “You will be rewarded handsomely,” he said. “Aside from my promise to teach you the method to open the Seven Divine Veins, I will prepare something special for you. Something worthy of your results.”

“That’s enough for me,” Max replied calmly.

Chief Igris gave a firm nod, clearly pleased. However, his expression soon shifted back to its usual seriousness. “But we will have to wait a bit before proceeding.”

Max looked at him questioningly, and the chief explained, “Traditionally, when the first champions return from the den, we wait for one full week. During that time, the rest of the champions who are still inside are given the opportunity to come out. Only after the full week has passed do we begin the final assessment and determine which village has brought the highest amount of Holy Nectar.”

He paused briefly, his tone firm and authoritative. “So for now, we stay here and wait.”

Max nodded in understanding, though a faint frown tugged at his brow. He glanced back at the den’s distant entrance, the dark, gaping hole in the ground from which many had yet to emerge. The faint echoes of the underground tunnels still lingered in his mind.

‘A week,’ he thought silently. ‘I doubt many will make it out in that time.’

His Three Dimensional Body had already mapped out most of the den before he escaped, and what he had seen inside wasn’t something an ordinary genius could survive. The place was teeming with Devouring Ants, each one as strong as the peak of the Mythic Rank. Their sheer numbers alone would be enough to overwhelm almost anyone.

And then there was the Divine Rank Ant—the monstrous creature that had hunted him relentlessly, tearing through the tunnels as if they were made of paper. The memory of its crushing presence lingered vividly in his mind. The idea that the other geniuses could evade such a creature was nearly impossible to believe.

He exhaled quietly and looked back toward Chief Igris. “I understand. We’ll wait then.”

Chief Igris nodded approvingly. “Good. Rest while you can. When the time comes, you will need to be ready for the ceremony.”

The surrounding giant dwarves began preparing temporary camps, arranging massive stone tables and securing defensive runes in the ground. The champions who had returned alive found their places among their respective chiefs, each recounting fragments of their harrowing experiences inside the den.

But as the day passed and the sky of the violet wasteland darkened into a deep crimson hue, Max sat quietly apart from the others. His gaze remained fixed on the entrance of the den in the distance, where the faint sound of shifting rock echoed now and then.

He knew better than anyone how few would walk out of that place alive. And when they did, none of them would leave it unchanged.

—

A week passed quietly over the violet wasteland, the long days blurring into one another. The air was always warm and heavy, carrying the faint scent of minerals and smoke that lingered in this strange world. To Max, the time slipped by in silence. He spent most of his days meditating near the outskirts of the camp while the giant dwarves prepared for the coming ceremony.

As he had expected, very few geniuses returned from the den. Out of the thirty or so who had entered, only sixteen managed to survive. The rest never came back. Their fates were already sealed within the labyrinth of tunnels crawling with the Devouring Ants.

When the last day of the waiting period arrived, the air in the camp grew solemn. The survivors gathered in the center of the enormous stone field before the entrance of the den. Rows of giant dwarves stood like walls on either side, their armor gleaming faintly under the violet sky. At the far end stood the village chiefs, each with their respective champion by their side.

Max stood next to Chief Igris, calm and composed. His two golden crowns glowed faintly above his head, and every eye that turned toward him carried both awe and respect. Even the other surviving champions, who had gone through the same ordeal, could not hide their unease. They had seen and felt the pressure of his presence before. None dared to look at him for long.

Max’s eyes drifted over the gathered geniuses standing in the open field of violet stone. The survivors stood in small groups, their bodies battered and their faces pale. Many looked hollow-eyed, still shaken from the horrors they had faced inside the den.

He scanned them one by one, recognizing several who had entered around the same time he did. Some had clearly been injured, with crude bandages wrapped around their arms or legs. Others stood silently, avoiding everyone’s eyes, as if still haunted by what they had seen beneath the ground.

However, as Max continued to look around, his brow furrowed slightly. There was one figure he expected to see but did not. The familiar golden crown, the long brown hair tied neatly behind, and the calm composure of Tanya—all were missing from the crowd.

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!