Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Elder Liam stepped forward slowly, his spear concept blazing around him like a storm of sharp winds. His voice was calm, but it carried the weight of a mountain.

”You can’t win against us,” he said, his gaze firm on Leone’s trembling form. ”Surrender now, or you’ll soon be begging for death.”

Elder Owen descended as well, his black flames twisting around his form like a living shadow. His cold eyes fixed on Leone.

”Direkins are no different than chained dogs,” Owen sneered. ”Just as dogs never betray their masters, Direkins will never betray their demons. There’s no point trying to subdue him. Better to end it quickly—kill him here and now.”

Leone’s chest heaved, his breaths shallow, ragged, and burning. His golden eyes, once fierce and prideful, now burned with a mix of fury and resignation. Slowly, his gaze shifted past Liam and Owen, sweeping across the battlefield.

What he saw made his expression darken.

The Direkin army... his army... lay broken.

Half of them were already dead, their monstrous bodies lying twisted in pools of blood. The other half—those who had once roared with loyalty to the demons—now knelt in defeat. Shackled with slave seals etched into their Soul Palaces, their wills crushed beneath the weight of human Divine Rank experts. Some trembled in chains of spirit energy, others writhed as the forced contracts gnawed at their souls.

The reality was undeniable.

The Direkins had been defeated. Their proud secrecy shattered. Their hidden city exposed. Their numbers cut down. Their masters, the demons, would surely rage when they learned of this disaster.

Leone’s breathing grew heavier. The fury in his eyes deepened, but so too did the helplessness.

The humans would not allow them to live freely. Not now. Not after what had been revealed.

And the humans... they needed answers. The sudden appearance of Direkins, and by extension, the involvement of demons—it wasn’t a matter that could be ignored.

The Hunter Association, the Black Lotus Guild, every force of the Middle Domain would demand to know the truth.

And the only way to drag out the truth... was to make the Direkins submit.

To force their obedience. To strip them of their pride. To bind them with seals until their very souls bent under human control.

Elder Liam’s eyes sharpened, his spear humming with killing intent. Elder Owen’s flames burned hotter, ready to devour.

But behind their ruthless demeanor, both men knew the truth—these Direkins were the only living threads that could unravel the demons’ scheme. Killing them outright would only bury the secrets deeper.

And so, no matter how vicious the fight, no matter how much it took... they had to make the Direkins yield.

At all costs.

”Leone?”

Both Tower Lord Mathew and Thunder Lord Xander’s expressions turned grim as they looked at the lion-headed Direkin sprawled on the ground, broken and bloodied. His once-proud flames sputtered like a dying torch, his body trembling under its own weight.

To see him—their supposed weapon, their executioner—reduced to such a pathetic state was almost unbearable.

”What? You want to help him now?” Elder Liam’s cold voice cut through the heavy air as his spear concept flared violently around him, arcs of sharp intent tearing cracks into the stone beneath his feet. His eyes burned with ridicule as they fell upon Mathew and Xander.

Tower Lord Mathew’s face twisted, but he slowly shook his head. His voice came out calm, almost eerily so. ”I won’t. But don’t think this matter will just end here, Liam. What you are doing now—enslaving Direkins, crushing us—it won’t matter. It won’t change the outcome. In the long run, humans are bound to lose this war.”

Elder Liam let out a laugh, sharp and mocking, his spear humming louder in response. ”Humans will lose this war? Hah! I don’t know about that. But I do know this—you two won’t live long enough to witness it!”

The air shuddered as Liam began walking toward them, his 4th level spear concept roaring like a storm, each step pressing down like the weight of a collapsing mountain. The tip of his spear quivered with a killing edge, promising death with a single thrust.

But Thunder Lord Xander only sneered, his lips curling into a cruel smile. ”You still don’t see it, do you? You’re blind, Liam. Blind to the bigger picture.”

And then—

BOOM!

The world seemed to crack.

A wave of pressure unlike anything before descended upon the hidden city. It wasn’t simply oppressive—it was absolute. The kind of pressure that did not merely demand submission, but enforced it, crushing every soul beneath its weight.

The impact was instantaneous.

The Direkins—thousands of them, some still struggling, others barely breathing—all dropped to their knees as if invisible chains yanked them down. Leone himself, despite his pride, despite his flames burning defiantly, collapsed forward with a growl of pain, his knees slamming into the broken earth. His body quaked under the weight of a presence far greater than his own.

Even Tower Lord Mathew and Thunder Lord Xander, the traitors who had boasted so arrogantly, were no exception. Their knees crashed into the ground, faces twisting with both fear and unwilling submission.

”What... is this pressure?!” Elder Liam gasped, his voice cracking in disbelief. His spear trembled in his hands, his concept flickering like a candle in a storm. His own knees buckled, and no amount of defiance could stop them from slamming onto the stone floor. Sweat poured down his face as his body shook violently.

He could feel it. This wasn’t some ordinary Divine Rank aura. This was something higher, something terrifying. ”Someone in the... 7th Cycle of Life and Death?!” His eyes widened, his lips trembling as he forced the words out. ”A 7th level of Divine Rank?!”

Impossible. In the Middle Domain, few even touched the 5th Cycle. For someone of the 7th to appear... it was inconceivable. Even the leaders of the Seven Overlord Forces were only at the 6th level of Divine Rank.

Elder Owen and the six other elders of the Black Lotus Guild fared no better. Their bodies were slammed down, forced to kneel as though the very heavens demanded their submission.

Black flames sputtered and extinguished around them, their souls trembling violently. Not one of them could resist.

And yet—

In the midst of it all, when even titans were brought to their knees, there remained a single figure standing tall.

Max Morgan.

His white hair glimmered faintly under the broken light filtering through the cavern’s ceiling. His shoulders were straight, his back unbending. Around him, the overwhelming pressure seemed to whirl like a storm hitting a mountain—only to split and flow past him, as if the invisible force itself refused to touch him.

His red lightning flickered faintly around his body, his Three Dimensional Body stabilizing his stance with ease. His expression was cold, steady.

In a city where Divine Rank titans had been reduced to trembling dogs, Max stood alone—unbent, unbroken.

The sight made every eye, human and Direkin alike, widen in disbelief.

He was the only one left standing.