Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Princess Lenavira’s expression twisted into something between disdain and pure irritation. ”Are you humans truly this foolish?” she asked coldly. ”Wearing a mask doesn’t change anything. You still have to remove it during registration. Didn’t you hear your puny friend just now?”

Aelric’s head snapped toward her. ”P-puny…?”

He blinked, stunned.

Had she seriously just called him that?

Max chuckled, clearly enjoying the moment. ”Relax,” he said, grinning beneath the mask. ”Just watch. I’ll handle it my way.”

With that, he turned and walked confidently toward the registration area, where a short line of people from various races stood waiting their turn.

Behind him, Lenavira’s brow furrowed. She clearly didn’t appreciate being dismissed so casually.

Her eyes shifted to Aelric again, studying him.

”I’ve heard you’re a prince from wherever it is you come from,” she said flatly. ”But your strength… only at the fifth level of Seeker Rank? At most, you’d reach the third or maybe the fourth floor of the Tower.”

She crossed her arms, her voice thick with disdain. ”So calling you puny wasn’t a mistake after all.”

Aelric stood there, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

He had grown up around power. Prestige. Royal etiquette.

But this… this elf?

She was royalty to the core. Not just in title—but in presence, in attitude, in arrogance. It rolled off her like a stormfront.

He actually felt a little dizzy. Like he was being talked down to by a walking, golden statue with an ego bigger than the entire Western Region.

He resisted the urge to cough up blood.

”…I miss talking to normal people,” he muttered under his breath.

From where Aelric and Princess Lenavira stood, the registration process was clearly visible. The building where it was taking place wasn’t enclosed—just a roof held up by tall stone columns. No walls. Everything was out in the open.

They could see the line, the registrars seated behind sleek metallic desks, and the slow but steady stream of humans stepping forward to receive their Essence Stones.

Max waited quietly in line, blending in with the crowd. Around him, other humans stood in silence—young warriors, calm veterans, and robed experts—each from different factions of this continent. His eyes scanned their faces.

’So they’re all locals,’ Max thought, noting the subtle similarities in dress and accent.

One by one, people moved forward. The line grew shorter. Eventually, it was Max’s turn.

He stepped up to the desk.

A bored-looking human official sat behind it, dressed in a navy robe with the insignia of the Human Registration Authority stitched into his shoulder. In his hand was a thin, transparent tablet that glowed faintly with blue light.

”Name?” the man asked without looking up.

”Max Harrington,” Max replied calmly.

The man typed something on the tablet, then finally glanced up. ”Alright. Remove the mask. Need to scan your face.”

Max nodded without complaint and slowly lifted the featureless mask from his face.

The registrar’s expression shifted instantly. His eyes widened. His lips curled back.

”Damn,” he muttered, recoiling slightly. ”That’s… messed up.”

Max’s face, now exposed, was covered in deep, jagged scars. Old wounds, twisted tissue, reminders of countless battles and pain. It wasn’t just disfigured—it was almost monstrous. Enough to make anyone look twice. Or look away.

The man’s hand trembled slightly as he raised the tablet, scanning Max’s face as quickly as possible. Sweat gathered on his brow.

”You can put it back on,” he said hurriedly, practically waving the mask at Max like it was a shield against the sight.

Max slid the mask back into place without a word.

The registrar exhaled in relief—only for his brow to furrow a second later. He was scanning Max’s strength level now, and what he saw made his face twist again.

”Huh? Level 1 of Adept Rank?” His tone sharpened. ”You think this is a joke?”

Max just shrugged. ”I’m going in whether you like it or not. Just do your job.”

The man scowled. ”I’ve seen a lot like you… all swagger and no substance.” He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. ”Most of them didn’t even make it past the first floor. Their ends were... unpleasant.”

Still, he didn’t refuse.

He reached beneath the table and retrieved a small, grayish-blue stone. It pulsed faintly in his palm before he tossed it lazily toward Max.

Max caught it with ease.

”Go ahead. You’re done,” the man muttered, waving him off like he wanted the whole thing behind him.

Max gave a slight nod to the registrar, then turned without another word. The whispers and curious glances of those still in line followed him as he walked away, but he paid them no mind.

The cool, smooth surface of the Essence Stone rested securely in his hand—faintly glowing, warm to the touch.

A smirk crept across his face, hidden beneath the mask.

It didn’t take long to retrace his steps through the open square, past the stone columns and quiet observers. Soon, he was standing once more in front of Aelric and Princess Lenavira.

Without saying anything at first, Max held up the Essence Stone between his fingers like a prized trophy. Its faint blue shimmer caught the sunlight.

”Your highness… Princess Lenavira,” he said, voice casual, mock-respectful, with an exaggerated bow. ”Were you saying something earlier?”

Then he grinned wide, cocky and unapologetic. ”Because it looks like I registered just fine.”

The smugness practically radiated from him.

Lenavira’s eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening ever so slightly.

Aelric blinked, torn between amusement and disbelief. He didn’t say a word—just stepped slightly to the side and let the tension play out.

”Humph.”

That was all Princess Lenavira said.

A single, sharp scoff.

She crossed her arms and turned her gaze away, as if the sight of Max holding that Essence Stone offended her very existence. Her golden hair shimmered in the light, and her expression remained cold—controlled—but the twitch in her brow betrayed her irritation.

She didn’t say another word.

Max, on the other hand, was grinning from ear to ear beneath his mask. That reaction was all he needed.

He’d seen her going wild with her arrogance. But now? She had nothing to say.

And to him, that was a win.

A glorious, silent win.

’I’ll take that as a victory,’ he thought smugly, resisting the urge to laugh.

For once, he’d gotten the last word.

”Let’s go and enter the tower,” Max said, pulling off his mask with a calm expression.

He no longer needed to hide. The mask had served its purpose—securing the Essence Stone. Whether the humans here recognized him or not didn’t matter anymore. They could report him to the officials of the Saint Human Alliance for all he cared. No one was allowed to fight within this city’s borders, and he intended to use that law to his advantage.

”Let’s go then,” Princess Lenavira replied coolly, her tone unreadable as she turned and began walking toward the towering structure.

Max fell into step behind her, with Aelric quietly following at his side.

As they approached, the sheer scale of the Tower of Truth became overwhelming. Up close, Max finally grasped how truly colossal it was—its dark, stone walls stretching so high they disappeared into the clouds, as if touching the heavens themselves.

They passed through the massive archway at its base and stepped inside.