Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

As soon as Callie led Max out of the hut, a deep silence settled over the small wooden room.

Only Klaus and the Old Saintess remained, the weight of what had just happened still lingering in the air.

Klaus let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair.

"That was nerve-wracking."

His usual composure was nowhere to be found.

Instead, his hands still trembled slightly, a lingering effect of the suppression that had forced them to their knees.

Even after Max had withdrawn his bloodline pressure, the feeling hadn't left.

"Even after he withdrew the suppression, I could still 'feel' it."

His voice was low, almost a whisper.

"My instincts kept screaming at me, telling me to submit… That wasn't just powerful—it was 'unnatural'."

He turned toward the Old Saintess, expecting to find her usual composed wisdom.

But—

She was staring into space, her expression dark, distant.

A look he had rarely—if ever—seen from her.

Klaus's frown deepened.

"What's wrong?"

The Old Saintess remained silent.

Seconds passed.

Then—

Finally, she spoke.

"Nothing…"

But her voice was hollow, detached.

And Klaus knew—it was a lie.

Another pause.

Then—

She muttered, almost to herself—

"His bloodline… it reminded me of something."

Klaus's eyes narrowed.

"Of what?"

A deep exhale.

As if she was debating whether to even speak it aloud.

Then—

Her next words sent a chill down his spine.

"Of the 'forbidden bloodline treasure' I brought back to the Lower Domain."

Klaus's breath hitched.

His eyes widened in shock.

"'That' thing?"

His voice was barely above a whisper.

A relic they were never supposed to touch.

The Old Saintess nodded, her expression grave.

"I am wondering… if Max's bloodline originated from that treasure."

Klaus's reaction was immediate.

"No. That's impossible."

His voice was firm, rejecting the idea outright.

But beneath that certainty, there was something else.

Something uneasy.

Something afraid.

"Millions—'billions'—of people have tried to claim that bloodline over countless years."

His words carried the weight of history.

"Every single one of them turned to 'bones' the moment they attempted to absorb it."

A pause.

His voice lowered, his hands clenching.

"Not a single soul has ever survived its awakening since the days of the 'Black Dragon Palace.'"

And then—

A whisper of something close to fear crept in.

"That bloodline in the 'sealed box' wasn't a blessing… it was a 'disaster.' A 'curse.'"

His gaze darkened.

"You were the only one who ever believed it could be harnessed."

The Old Saintess remained silent.

Her fingers tightened around the armrest of her chair.

Memories surfaced.

Memories of what that box contained.

If Max had truly inherited 'that' bloodline…

Then what exactly had he become?

The Old Saintess finally spoke, her voice quiet but heavy.

"You do remember that the 'box' was stolen by one of our previous guild leaders, don't you?"

Klaus nodded, his expression tense.

"Yeah, I remember. What about it?"

The Old Saintess met his gaze.

And in her eyes—

There was a truth far more terrifying than anything Klaus had imagined.

A faint smile tugged at the Old Saintess's lips, but her expression remained indecipherable.

"Well, it wasn't stolen because I failed to protect it."

Klaus's brows furrowed slightly.

A strange feeling crept up his spine.

"What are you trying to say?"

Something about her tone—

Something about this entire conversation—

Didn't feel right.

The Old Saintess leaned back, her fingers lightly tapping the armrest, as if lost in thought.

Then, she said it.

"I 'allowed' it to be stolen."

Silence.

The weight of those words hung in the air like a suffocating mist.

Klaus stiffened.

His frown deepened, his mind running through a thousand possibilities.

"What?"

His voice came out low. Controlled.

Like a man piecing together a conspiracy in real time.

The Old Saintess continued, her tone measured.

"For millennia, not a single person—not even a 'Saintess'—was able to claim the bloodline within that box."

A pause.

"It was untouchable. Even when we attempted every possible method, 'everyone' failed. No one was chosen."

She met Klaus's gaze, her voice carrying the weight of centuries.

"So, after countless meetings and deliberations, we reached a conclusion—"

A beat.

Then—

"We don't choose the bloodline.

The bloodline chooses us."

Klaus's expression darkened.

The implications of those words settled like a storm in the room.

If that bloodline had chosen Max…

Then he wasn't just strong.

He wasn't just unusual.

He was something beyond what they had ever prepared for.

The Old Saintess's voice carried the weight of old regrets.

"When I came to the 'Lower Domain'," she continued, "I brought the 'bloodline treasure' with me. My hope was that one of the great geniuses of our guild—someone worthy—would earn its recognition."

She exhaled softly.

"But I was 'naïve'."

Her tone shifted, turning solemn—almost bitter.

"You saw it with your own eyes, Klaus. You saw what happened to those who tried to absorb that bloodline."

Klaus's jaw tightened, memories clawing their way back to the surface.

He remembered.

How could he ever forget?

It had been a time of desperation.

The Black Lotus Guild, once an untouchable shadow force, was losing ground.

The leadership had seen only one solution—

Unlock the power of the 'bloodline treasure'.

One by one, countless prodigies stepped forward.

The most gifted elders, the brightest warriors, the strongest assassins.

All of them—eager, determined, fearless.

All of them—reduced to charred remains within seconds.

Klaus had stood among the spectators, a young warrior at the time, barely scratching the surface of true power.

He had seen their bodies ignite, their skin peeling away, their souls vanishing as if they had never existed.

Even the strongest among them, the ones who had touched the peak of power—

They burned.

Nothing left behind but blackened bones and the stench of death.

He was also given the chance to absorb the bloodline.

But unlike many he refused politely when he saw the deaths it brought.

And then—

The theft.

It happened years later, but the moment was seared into history.

The entire guild had been thrown into chaos.

Word spread like wildfire throughout Dark Heaven—

The 'bloodline treasure' had been stolen.

And along with it—

The Guild Leader had vanished.

It hadn't taken a genius to piece together the truth.

But now—hearing it from the Old Saintess herself—

Klaus finally understood.

This had never been a failure of security.

This had never been an act of betrayal.

She had let it happen.

And now—

That same forbidden bloodline had surfaced inside Max.

And he—he alone had survived.