Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Max's eyes burned.

Not just with power—but with rage.

As he hovered in the sky above the Divine Palace, his gaze swept across the lands below, glowing like twin furnaces ready to devour the world. The blood-red tattoos on his arms and face pulsed with each heartbeat, radiating a suffocating heat, while the wings of infernal energy behind him crackled ominously.

His mind was no longer clouded.

It was singular.

Focused.

Kill.

Kill Mark.

Kill Lucas.

Kill anyone who had hurt Alice—who had betrayed him, used him, trapped him.

His grip tightened around the hilt of the Abyss Dragon Sword, now resting across his shoulder like a predator ready to strike.

"M-Max...? Is that... you?"

A voice called out above the Divine Palace.

A figure appeared, hovering with a cautious expression—Old Man Grey.

Max's blazing eyes snapped toward him.

Old Man Grey froze mid-air.

The moment their gazes locked, he felt it—pure malice.

Undiluted. Undeniable.

Like looking into the eyes of a wild beast that had tasted blood and wanted more.

Max didn't answer.

He simply growled, deep and low.

"I'll kill him," he snarled. "I'll kill Mark."

Old Man Grey's throat tightened. "M-Mark? He's gone. We—we don't know where he is…"

Max's expression twisted.

Confusion. Anger. Pain. Hate.

All flashed across his face in a blur.

And then—without another word—he shot into the sky like a comet of blood-red flame, leaving behind a shockwave that shattered clouds and cracked the very air.

He blazed across the skies of the Valora Continent, a dark meteor trailing infernal smoke.

People looked up in awe—and in fear.

Wherever he passed, the pressure he emitted pressed down on their souls. It wasn't just power—it was ferocity, a divine-level rage that twisted the sky itself.

Even the elders of great sects and strong families felt it and looked up, alarmed.

But Max didn't stop.

He didn't look down.

He had a target.

And then—

A figure appeared in front of him, mid-flight.

Blocking his path.

Klaus.

He hovered calmly, though his expression darkened as he took in Max's appearance.

The tattoos. The wings. The sword. The madness in his eyes.

"Max..." Klaus called out, his voice steady, but grim. "Where are you going?"

Max stared at him, the glow in his pupils flickering like wildfire.

"I'm going to kill Lucas." His voice was hoarse, guttural—half human, half something else.

Klaus frowned. "No. You can't."

Max bared his teeth.

"I will kill him."

"Listen to me!" Klaus's voice sharpened. "You're not strong enough. Not yet. Lucas is far above your current level. If you confront him now, you'll die. You know that."

Max didn't respond.

Klaus continued. "It's good that you escaped that pit. And not many people know. I can deal with the Divine Palace—I'll cover your trail. But you need to come back. Come back to the Hidden City. We'll regroup. Plan. Wait."

Max's eyes narrowed. His grip on the sword tightened.

"I will kill Lucas."

Klaus clenched his fists. "Then let me help you do it the right way. An assassination. A clean strike. We take him out smart, not like this—charging in like a mad beast."

But Max was past words now.

His voice dropped to a low growl.

"I. Will. Kill. Lucas."

And with that—

He lunged forward, the Abyss Dragon Sword slashing down in a violent arc, red energy howling through the sky as the blade tore toward Klaus like a wrathful god.

"Damn it—!"

Klaus barely had time to react.

The moment Max slashed down with the Abyss Dragon Sword, a wave of blood-red energy screamed through the sky, barreling toward him with terrifying speed and ferocity.

He shifted his body back on instinct—retreating mid-air, narrowly avoiding a direct hit. The red arc of light missed his face by mere inches, but not without consequence.

A searing pain spread across his jaw.

He reached up and touched it. His fingers came away blackened with ash.

There was a burn mark on his chin—fresh, stinging, and very real.

His eyes narrowed, gaze locking on the figure in front of him.

Floating. Breathing hard. Eyes glowing like coals.

Max.

But not the Max he knew.

Not the sarcastic, clever boy with reckless confidence.

This was something else.

Something unhinged.

Something dangerous.

"What happened to you…?" Klaus muttered, voice low, full of disbelief. Max was talented—everyone knew that—but even at his best, he shouldn't be able to push someone like Klaus, a peak Expert Rank, this far.

This power… this killing intent…

It didn't belong to a mortal.

"I will kill Lucas!" Max roared, voice guttural, like it was being torn from the depths of his soul.

It was all he could say.

It was all that was left of him.

Klaus kept his eyes on Max, body tensed, every instinct alert. There was no hesitation in the boy. No flicker of recognition. Just murderous obsession.

'It's the sword,' Klaus thought, eyes flashing toward the crimson blade in Max's hand. 'That's the one Mark mentioned… the cursed one.'

It pulsed with infernal light, like it was feeding off Max's fury. No—amplifying it.

And then, Max raised the sword again.

With a scream of rage, he swung it forward, unleashing another massive arc of red light—wider, hotter, faster.

But Klaus was ready.

His eyes narrowed.

He moved—slipping through the air like a shadow.

The red arc twisted, following him with unnatural precision. It wasn't just a slash anymore—it was like the sword itself had a mind, chasing its prey.

Klaus frowned.

"Enough."

His right hand ignited in black flames, dark as void, licking the wind like a vengeful beast.

With a sharp motion, he slashed his hand through the air.

From his palm, a black arc of fire shot forward—dense, silent, and fast, tearing through space in a line of shadow.

BOOM!

The two attacks collided mid-air.

Red and black clashed like titans—crimson fury against shadowed flame.

The explosion that followed lit up the sky with a burst of light and force, shaking the clouds and hurling shockwaves in every direction.

When the smoke cleared—

Both arcs were gone.

Cancelled out. Equal.