Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

”Let’s get you to the Hall of Trials,” the parrot spirit said, gliding ahead with its usual calm, leading Max through the fiery grandeur of Obsidian Dragon City.

They moved along wide streets paved with black jade tiles, under towering arches and hanging lanterns that glowed with flame essence. The city was alive with power—warriors meditating on rooftops, merchants selling flame-forged artifacts, geniuses sparring with fire-infused weapons—all beneath skies swirled with divine flame energy.

After several minutes of weaving through winding alleys and grand walkways, Max finally arrived before a majestic archway built from obsidian and engraved with golden veins that pulsed faintly.

At its peak, three bold black characters burned into the dark stone like living fire—Hall of Trials.

”Almost all of the trials take place in this area,” the parrot spirit explained, hovering beside him. ”Including the Trial of True Inheritance.” As it spoke, a single golden feather shimmered out from its body, gliding gently through the air until it landed on Max’s outstretched palm. It pulsed faintly with warm energy.

”Keep this with you,” the spirit added. ”That way, after you leave the Hall of Trials, I’ll know where to find you.”

Max nodded, understanding the importance of the gesture, and carefully tucked the feather away in his storage space.

”Go on,” the parrot spirit said calmly, its tone solemn now. ”I shall await your return.”

Max gave a final nod of thanks before turning toward the entrance. With steady steps, he walked forward and entered the Hall of Trials. The corridor was dimly lit, narrow, and carved with intricate flames that danced across the walls.

But after a short walk, it suddenly opened into a vast central chamber.

Max’s eyes widened slightly as he stepped into the main hall. Dozens—perhaps hundreds—of young geniuses were gathered within, all exuding powerful auras.

Most wore black, their robes marked with unique family emblems or insignias. The majority of them were human, but Max also spotted several elves with long silver hair and regal postures, and even a few experts of unknown but distinctly powerful bloodlines—perhaps from beast races or foreign clans.

Yet no matter their race or background, one thread united them all: the unmistakable resonance of the Black Dragon’s bloodline flowed within each of their bodies. It pulsed beneath their skin, lingered in their presence, and stirred faintly in Max’s own blood, as if recognizing kin.

”Are you new?” a voice called out just as Max stepped into the wide hall, echoing faintly under the domed ceiling.

He turned to see a black-robed youth approaching him with a casual stride and a friendly smile, speaking in the common tongue of Acaris

”Where are you from?” the youth asked, his eyes curious but not condescending.

”Acaris,” Max replied simply, watching the youth’s reaction.

”Acaris? So you’re also from the world of mortals? Me too! Hahaha!” The youth laughed warmly, a sense of camaraderie flickering across his face. ”Let me introduce myself. I’m from the Leon Family—Henry Leon.”

He extended a hand confidently, his tone relaxed and welcoming, completely unlike the prideful arrogance Max had expected from a hall full of dragon-blooded elites.

As they shook hands, Max noticed a badge pinned on Henry’s chest. It shimmered faintly with heat and bore the name Leon, encircled by a stylized flame motif. The badge wasn’t just ornamental—it was a mark of lineage, identity, and belonging.

’It seems most of them here are from families tied directly to the Black Dragon Palace,’ Max mused, his sharp eyes scanning the hall more carefully now.

Indeed, as he looked around, he saw that nearly every young genius in the hall bore a similar badge—some with names like ’Lore,’ ’Ashura,’ ’Fenrir,’ or ’Bane’—all adorned with elemental insignias, symbols of beasts, or flames wrapped around ancient crests.

Each badge was not only a family’s emblem, but a subtle proclamation of heritage, pride, and power.

Yet as Max’s eyes drifted toward the center of the hall, they paused. There, away from the general commotion, was a small group of six individuals.

Unlike the others, they didn’t mingle or speak. They stood with silent authority, their postures relaxed yet imposing. No one approached them. No one dared. They bore no badges, and yet their mere presence made the surrounding geniuses give them a wide berth.

’Are they special?’ Max wondered, watching them closely. There was something different about their energy—dense, refined, tightly coiled like a serpent waiting to strike. They were like blades hidden in scabbards, radiating pressure even while sheathed.

”Heh, those six fellows are from the Divine Realm,” Henry said, noticing where Max’s gaze had settled. His voice, though calm on the surface, was laced with obvious disdain as he spoke via vital essence sound transmission, shielding their conversation from others.

His lips curled into a half-mocking sneer as he added, ”Those Divine Realm folks carry an ingrained sense of superiority. They walk around like the rest of us don’t even exist, clinging to their little clique like they’re too sacred to mingle. In their minds, their status compared to ours is the same as nobles to commoners.”

The irony in Henry’s tone was sharp, clearly hinting at long-standing irritation toward the aloof group.

”Divine Realm?” Max’s eyes widened slightly, his mind racing. So those six weren’t just powerful—they were from the very realm that overshadowed the entire mortal world.

”Coming from the Divine Realm doesn’t mean much,” Henry said, shaking his head with a steady tone. ”This Obsidian Dragon City is still located within the mortal realms. The Divine Realm has its own royal training sites, elite ancestral grounds. If they were truly the highest-tier prodigies of the Black Dragon Palace, there’s no reason they would come here. Their spots would already be reserved in much more exclusive places.”

”Oh?” Max was surprised and added a moment later, tilting his head, ”So you’re saying Obsidian Dragon City isn’t the top-tier trial area of the Black Dragon Palace? That surprises me. I heard the city’s entrance was personally inscribed by the Third Master himself.”

”That’s true,” Henry said, nodding, ”but that’s because the Third Master was once one of us. He came from the mortal realms—like you, like me. He completed his entire True Inheritance trial right here in Obsidian Dragon City and rose all the way up. So, in honor of his roots, he left his mark here. The best part?”

Henry’s eyes gleamed slightly. ”He made sure that even now, the most outstanding youths from the mortal realms can undergo the same trial he did. He believed we could rival anyone from the Divine Realm.”

Max’s heart stirred hearing that. There was something powerful about the legacy of someone who rose from the same soil he had come from—who made it, not despite the odds, but because they never stopped climbing.

”Come,” Henry said with a bright grin, motioning with his hand. ”Let me introduce you to the others. We’ve got a decent group of elites down here.”

He guided Max across the hall, weaving between groups of black-robed cultivators. ”This is Mante Lore, from Kobe Star,” Henry gestured to a tall, broad-shouldered youth with calm eyes. ”And this is Neros, from Sky War,” he added, nodding toward a lanky, sharp-faced youth with a cold aura and a silver band around his arm.

One by one, Henry introduced Max to more geniuses from scattered mortal planets and sectors—each one carrying pride in their blood, determination in their eyes, and a burning desire to prove they didn’t need the Divine Realm to become legends.