Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

They clashed again, sword and divine power colliding in rapid succession. Max’s severing strikes tore through space with relentless precision, while Mark countered with overwhelming force, divine authority crashing against severance in violent shockwaves that shook the world to its core.

Every exchange sent ripples across the sealed battlefield, and even the spatial laws Max had imposed began to show signs of strain. Yet neither retreated. Neither faltered.

It became clear to both of them that this was not a battle decided by a single blow or a single mistake. This was a confrontation between two beings standing at the absolute peak of what this world could produce.

Max restrained the greater depths of his power and continued to rely only on the fifth level concept of severing sword because this was never meant to be a reckless exchange of blows. From the very beginning, he had been testing, measuring, and confirming his suspicions with every clash.

He understood better than anyone that among all the concepts he possessed, the concept of severing sword stood at the very peak of destructive authority in this world, rivaled only by the concept of time which he had deliberately hidden away as his final trump card. Time was absolute, but severing was final.

Time could overturn outcomes, but severing could erase the very possibility of those outcomes ever existing. Because of that, Max had no intention of revealing everything too early. He wanted one decisive opening, one strike that would not merely wound Mark but leave behind damage that could not be repaired by divine power, immortality, or the authority of a crownbearer.

The more he fought, the clearer his conviction became. Mark’s strength did not stem solely from raw power or the crown atop his head. It came from the laws of this world itself, from causality, from cause and effect that dictated that divine power must restore, must respond, and must perpetuate itself endlessly.

Mark existed as a result and a source of those laws, making him extraordinarily difficult to destroy by conventional means. Yet the concept of severing sword was different. It did not destroy energy. It did not overpower defenses. It severed connections. It cut relationships. It erased links between cause and consequence.

If Max could push this concept one step further, if he could elevate it beyond mere cutting and into the realm of law breaking, then even the divine power sustaining Mark could be sliced apart. Not injured. Not weakened. Severed. And if causality itself was cut, then healing would become meaningless.

For Max to truly cut through the laws of causality that sustained Mark, he understood that mastery over a fifth level concept alone was not enough. What he needed was a deeper evolution of understanding, something that existed beyond concepts themselves. This was where the idea of a Cosmic Path came into play.

The Cosmic Path was not something spoken of in mortal worlds, nor was it a power that could be grasped through talent alone. It was a principle known in the Divine Realm, a threshold that separated those who merely wielded laws from those who defined them.

Max had learned of it long ago from his master, not as a technique or an art but as a truth of cultivation. In the Divine Realm, once a cultivator pushed a concept to the fifth level, they were forced to make a choice. From that moment onward, they could no longer rely on borrowed understanding or inherited doctrines.

They had to create their own path, a direction that determined how their laws would grow, evolve, and eventually transcend the realm of concepts. That chosen direction was known as a Cosmic Path.

A Cosmic Path was not a fixed formula. It was a reflection of the cultivator’s will, personality, experiences, and beliefs. It defined how their law interacted with the universe and how the universe responded in return. Some paths focused on domination, others on balance, others on destruction or creation, but all of them were uniquely personal.

Two cultivators could master the same concept to the same level, yet their Cosmic Paths would never be identical. This was because a Cosmic Path was not just power, it was identity. It was the answer to a single question that every true expert eventually had to face.

What do you want your law to become.

For Max, this realization carried an immense weight. If he wished to walk the Cosmic Path of the Concept of Severing Sword, then he could not simply rely on the idea of cutting enemies or destroying defenses. He had to decide what severing truly meant to him. Was it the severing of flesh, the severing of energy, or the severing of existence itself. Was it meant to end battles, end lives, or end inevitability.

The concept of severing already held terrifying potential, capable of slicing through matter, space, and even abstract connections. Yet to elevate it further, Max needed to refine its purpose. He needed to shape it into something that could one day grow into a Cosmic Path unique to him alone, a path that could sever causality, destiny, and the chains that bound gods to their thrones.

And in the midst of his battle with Mark, with the fate of the world hanging in the balance, Max realized that this path would not be found through meditation alone. It would be forged through resolve, through conflict, and through the unwavering decision to cut away everything that stood between him and the end he had chosen.

He did not need to fully comprehend a Cosmic Path, nor did he need to give it a name or define its end. What he needed was far simpler and far more dangerous. He needed to understand the direction his severing should take. He needed to decide what his blade was meant to cut when faced with something that could not be killed by ordinary means.

As his sword continued to descend again and again, Mark dodged some strikes and blocked others with frightening ease, yet every swing carved scars into the world itself. Mountains split apart in the distance, oceans were cleaved into boiling chasms, and the sky fractured like brittle glass whenever a slash missed its target.

”One Sword All Conquered,” Max shouted once more as his blade descended with absolute will. Mark crossed his arms and blocked it head on, yet the impact still hurled him across the land like a falling star, carving a trench that stretched for countless kilometers.

Before the dust could even settle, Max exhaled slowly and released everything he had been holding back. The fifth level concept of severing sword surged outward from his blade, no longer restrained, and the space around him began to tear as though reality itself could not withstand its presence.

At the same time, the fifth level concept of flames roared to life, black and crimson fire coiling around his body with tyrannical intent, while the fifth level concept of ice spread outward in ghostly silence, freezing shockwaves and suspending debris in midair.

Lightning howled as the fifth level concept of thunder wrapped around him in arcs of red and blue light, each bolt screaming with destructive authority, and finally the fifth level concept of space descended like an invisible cage, sealing the surrounding world and preventing it from collapsing under the strain of his power.

The moment all of these forces erupted together, the planet itself shuddered as though it were on the verge of breaking apart.