Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

"You all have an hour to prepare."

The old man finished speaking, then turned and walked away. His robe billowed as he disappeared into the palace halls.

The crowd stirred. Some began forming groups. Others pulled out supplies, checking their weapons, adjusting their armor. Everyone knew what was coming.

Max, however, had something else on his mind.

He turned to Klaus. "I want to be Max again."

His voice was calm, but there was weight behind those words.

Klaus's expression hardened. "Are you sure?"

Max understood his concern. Staying hidden had its advantages.

But he was done hiding.

He met Klaus's gaze. "Yes."

A moment of silence. Then Klaus sighed. "Alright."

His voice was firm, but there was a trace of warning. "But be careful."

Max nodded.

With one smooth motion, he removed his featureless mask.

The black robe followed.

And just like that—

Max was back.

The instant Max removed his mask, the atmosphere froze.

A wave of silence spread through the crowd.

Then—all at once, every gaze locked onto him.

Shock. Recognition. Disbelief.

The strongest genius of Valora Continent—revealing himself in front of everyone.

For a few seconds, no one spoke. No one moved. It was as if the weight of that realization had stolen their voices.

Then—whispers.

First soft. Then louder.

"Max…?"

"It's him. It's really him!"

"So the rumors were true after all…"

Gasps followed. Stares of awe, caution, and even hostility filled the gathering.

Many had heard the rumors.

That Max had taken refuge with the Black Lotus Guild. That he had turned his back on the Phoenix Order guild. That he was no longer tied to any faction.

But until now—it had been speculation.

His unmasking?

It was confirmation. A declaration.

Some of the younger geniuses in the crowd looked at him with admiration.

"To think someone like him would abandon the major factions…"

Others, particularly those aligned with the Four Super Families and the Divine Palace, narrowed their eyes.

A few envied him.

A few resented him.

A few? Feared him.

Because Max wasn't just a genius anymore.

He was a wild variable. Uncontrolled. Unpredictable. Unbound by any power.

And that made him dangerous.

But Max?

He didn't care.

Their whispers? Their judgments? Their political games?

Meaningless.

Once—before Aurelia betrayed him.

Before he had seen how fickle allegiances could be.

Before he had been betrayed.

Back then, he had thought alliances mattered. That power came from belonging somewhere.

Back when he was a member of the Phoenix Order guild.

Now?

Now, he understood.

Power came from standing alone.

And in this moment—standing among hundreds of Valora's strongest—he made that clear.

He did not belong to anyone.

And if anyone had a problem with that…

They were welcome to try and stop him.

"Max, you're here!"

A voice rang out from the crowd.

Max turned, his gaze settling on Crown Prince Aelric.

He wasn't alone.

Beside him stood some of the most well-known geniuses of Valora Continent. Warriors, strategists, and heirs to powerful factions.

Among them, Amelia. Revenna. Jack.

Familiar faces. Familiar presences.

Max smiled. "How could I miss such an opportunity?"

His eyes flickered between them, noting their reactions. Amelia's sharp gaze studied him, as if analyzing his every move. Revenna, ever cold, merely nodded. Jack, standing with arms crossed, smirked slightly but said nothing.

Aelric chuckled. "Haha, good!"

Then—his grin widened. "Come, let me take you to meet my father."

Max hesitated slightly. "Will that be alright?"

King Magnar wasn't just anyone. The ruler of the West Region—one of the strongest leaders in the Lower Domain. Right now, he had to be busy, arranging matters related to the Mourning Depths.

Aelric waved him off. "Nah, you're thinking too much. It'll be fine."

And just like that, he turned and started walking.

Max followed.

They wove through the crowd, moving toward a group standing at the very heart of the gathering.

There—surrounded by warriors, strategists, and commanders—stood the most powerful figures of the Lower Domain.

King Magnar. Envoy Lucas. The Master of the Divine Palace.

Alongside them, the leaders of the various regions.

The true rulers of Valora Continent.

They were deep in discussion, their words carrying weight that could shift the balance of power.

And now—Max was being brought straight into their midst.

"This Young Hero must be Max."

King Magnar's voice was warm. Cheerful.

Not the commanding tone of a ruler. Not the majestic presence he had displayed at the banquet.

No.

His tone was casual. Welcoming.

Like a merchant greeting his best customer.

And that—surprised Max.

He had expected formality. Expected distance. But this?

This was… different.

Max didn't hesitate. He lowered himself, prepared to kneel. "It is my honor to meet you, Your Royal Highness."

But before his knee could touch the ground—

A firm grip caught his wrist.

King Magnar lifted him up effortlessly.

"Don't kneel, Young Hero." His laughter was genuine, his presence unwavering. "You and the other geniuses of this continent will be the ones to carry forward its legacy. If I let you kneel to me now… then I am no king."

Wise words. Humble words.

Max blinked, caught off guard.

This was not the kind of king he had expected.

A ruler who earned respect—not through force, but through wisdom.

A rare kind of leader.

Before Max could fully process this, another voice called out.

"Hehe, you're here, kid."

Envoy Lucas.

The old man chuckled lightly, his gaze sharp yet amused. "Good. Good."

Max nodded, smiling at both King Magnar and Envoy Lucas. Their warmth was genuine. Their words held weight.

But then—his Three-Dimensional Body took notice of something.

A shift in the air.

A dark gaze filled with rage and enmity.

Max's expression barely changed, but inwardly, he frowned.

'What the hell…?'

His eyes locked onto the source.

Hugh Vandor.

Or as he was better known—Palace Master Hugh, the ruler of the Divine Palace.

His gaze burned with something deeper than dislike.

It was pure, unrestrained hatred.

And Max had no idea why.

'I've never even interacted with him before. What did I do to deserve this?'

Palace Master Hugh's lips curled into a thin, unreadable smile.

"Max… I've heard a lot about you."

His voice was smooth. Too smooth.

Max didn't flinch.

"I am grateful for your kind words," he replied, bowing slightly.

He wouldn't provoke the man. Not now. Not here. Not when he didn't even know where the hatred was coming from.

And besides—this man wasn't just anyone.

He was one of the strongest experts in the Lower Domain.

To ignore him outright would be foolish.

Palace Master Hugh's smile widened—but it didn't reach his eyes.

"I hope you have a fruitful journey in the Mourning Depths, my young friend."

The venom in his tone was unmistakable.

Max could feel the malice beneath those words.

The others—King Magnar, Envoy Lucas, and the leaders present— also understood the meaning behind his words but they didn't say a word.

No one stopped him. No one questioned his hostility.

That, more than anything, made Max uneasy.

Max met Hugh's stare for a moment longer. Then, without another word, he nodded.

"I will take my leave."