Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Three days passed in a blur of silent determination as Max remained before the Flame Tyrant Totem Stone, unwavering and fully immersed in its profound legacy.

To the other geniuses around him, he barely moved—just sat there, silent, still, expression focused. But what they couldn’t see was the war of comprehension and clarity unfolding within him.

His consciousness flowed in and out of the Dimension of Time hundreds of times, diving into that temporal cocoon where the outside world slowed to a crawl and every moment of insight stretched into months and years. He used every breath, every flicker of law energy that emanated from the totem, and dissected its meaning with a surgeon’s precision.

The Totem Stone pulsed endlessly with ancient fire, and every time he returned to it, Max peeled back another layer of its intent. Each rune became clearer, each glowing line no longer a mystery but a strand of purpose in a massive, fiery tapestry. And then came the fourth day.

It was on that day that the Flame Tyrant’s true essence finally unfolded before him.

The inheritance didn’t call for wielding weapons of steel, or fire-forged blades of artifice. No—this legacy was far more primal, more domineering. The body itself was the weapon. The bones, the blood, the sinew—they were to be hardened like molten ore, refined under fire until the body became a vessel of flame’s tyranny. No sword was sharper, no shield stronger.

The Flame Tyrant walked through battle barehanded, unflinching, because his very being was destruction incarnate.

As the comprehension struck him with clarity, something deep within Max responded. Quietly, subtly, the Chaos Tree within him stirred again.

From the flame concept branch, a subtle energy began to pulse, and slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, a new leaf began to grow. It was a painfully slow process, like watching the first spark of a fire build beneath kindling. But Max felt it—felt the heat gathering, the meaning condensing.

By the time the fourth day reached its end, the leaf fully bloomed.

Its surface shimmered with a brilliance different from the others—its shape and vein-like markings were identical to the Flame Tyrant Totem Stone itself. The aura it released was wild and authoritative, like an emperor of fire staring down the world. The concept infused in that leaf wasn’t just generic flame—it was the Flame Tyrant’s will, its philosophy, its method.

Max opened his eyes, a flicker of red firelight reflected in his pupils, and for a brief moment he just sat there, stunned.

’Did I just copy the inheritance?’ he thought with disbelief. It felt unreal. He knew his comprehension had reached a new height—an intuitive understanding of the Flame Tyrant Inheritance. But what surprised him most wasn’t that he had understood it... it was the depth of that understanding.

Because the moment that new leaf finished forming, something shifted in him.

All his previous confusion, all the missing threads that had kept him from truly grasping the inheritance—they vanished. Gone without a trace, like smoke cleared by wind. It wasn’t just understanding. It was mastery. Perfect, absolute mastery, as if he had trained in the Flame Tyrant’s teachings for millennia.

’From what I read in that book, these inheritances usually take a person their entire life to master—at least until they reach Divine Rank...’ Max mused inwardly, his gaze still locked on the now dormant Flame Tyrant Totem Stone. ’You could spend two months in front of it and walk away with the foundation... but to perfect it? That takes years. Decades, even. Most cultivators only reach true mastery of an inheritance like this after they’ve either ascended to the Divine Realm or stepped into the Divine Rank itself.’

The thought stirred something strange in his chest—equal parts awe and absurdity. Because here he was, a mere Seeker Rank genius, and in just four days he had comprehended the inheritance to perfection. Not surface-level understanding, not imitation—true assimilation.

The inheritance had fused into the very structure of his being, mirrored on the leaf of his Chaos Tree like a living, breathing doctrine of flame.

’Am I... too much of a cheat?’ he wondered, a wry smile tugging at his lips. He didn’t feel guilty—he had paid dearly for this path.

The Unholy Trinity Body, for all its terrifying complexity and its brush with death, had become a bridge to powers far beyond normal comprehension. It wasn’t just rare—it was something the world itself had tried to reject.

Max still remembered the pain, the crushing pressure, the moment his existence was almost erased by the laws of the world itself just for daring to create the physique. He had bled for it, died for it, and come back stronger.

So if the world wanted to call him a cheat, so be it. He had earned it.

’So, Flame Tyrant inheritance is meant for close combat. Using one’s own body as a weapon. A punch to decimate all, a kick to destroy everything, a dragon to devour all...’ Max mused as he contemplated on the entire inheritance.

Shaking his head lightly, Max exhaled slowly and opened his eyes. The familiar, deep glow of the Totem Stone greeted him one last time—but now, it felt more like a friend than a mystery. He understood it. The Flame Tyrant’s legacy was now a part of him.

And so there was no point in staying here any longer.

He rose to his feet quietly, stretching his limbs once, and then looked around the hall—and paused.

The chamber was nearly empty.

Most of the geniuses who had been comprehending beside him were gone. The only lingering presence was the faint heat they had left behind. Even Lucia Grimes, who had been seated just feet from him for the first day, was no longer there.

’They must have gone to test their comprehension in the Tower of Resonance,’ Max thought as he stepped away from his mat, his gaze lingering briefly on the spot where Lucia had once sat. ’A perfect comprehension was meaningless without real battle testing.’

With that thought, Max stepped out of the Flame Tyrant dome and into the open courtyard of the Comprehension Hall complex. The world outside buzzed with motion and fiery intensity, but it wasn’t the noise or the heat that first caught his eye—it was the arena.

Suspended over the open platform were translucent holographic projections, glowing with arcane brilliance. Figures of young geniuses—many he had seen days before—were locked in fierce combat, each duel displaying nothing but the unique techniques and laws of the inheritances they had comprehended during the last four days.

Flames danced, wind howled, and ethereal auras clashed midair as warriors battled not for dominance, but for insight.

It was like watching raw comprehension forged into motion.

’So that’s the purpose of the arena,’ Max realized, his eyes narrowing with thoughtful appreciation. ’If two individuals who comprehended the same inheritance fight, the exchange of techniques would naturally help both deepen their understanding... every strike, every defense, each technique used—adds to their mastery.’

He nodded slightly. It was a brilliant arrangement.

The arena had been placed right at the center of all the domes, a deliberate decision to draw those fresh from comprehension into immediate trial. It encouraged competition, collaboration, and growth.

Geniuses from both the Divine Realm and Mortal Realm engaged freely, bound by the same rule: use only what you’ve just learned. Inheritance versus inheritance. Comprehension versus comprehension.

And then, as Max turned slightly, his gaze landed on the massive tower at the far end of the courtyard—the Tower of Resonance.

It was glowing faintly, soft pulses of crimson light radiating from its upper floors. That meant someone was currently inside, testing their newly acquired inheritance, pushing themselves to see how far they could go with their comprehension. He watched for a moment as the light flickered and shifted.

’Looks like someone’s climbing the tower already,’ he mused.

Max’s thoughts circled back to his own situation. Though his understanding of the Flame Tyrant Inheritance had reached what he could only describe as perfection, theory without application was incomplete. He needed to feel it in motion. See how it responded under pressure. Let it breathe in battle.

’I should at least test my inheritance,’ he decided, his steps turning naturally toward the base of the Tower of Resonance. He wasn’t expecting to struggle, but he wanted to confirm it—confirm that his Chaos Tree-enhanced comprehension wasn’t just deep, but usable.

There was no downside, and every benefit, in seeing how far he could push the Flame Tyrant’s might inside a trial created to measure the soul of an inheritance.

With silent confidence, Max walked forward, the soft hum of holographic battles fading behind him as he neared the tower’s entrance, ready to step into resonance with the flame.