Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Chapter 1136  Tomb of the Sword Saint - Again!

”Yes, and that means something even more incredible,” Blob continued, his tone rising with excitement. ”Remember the one you found back in the Tower of Truth? That was only one tomb—a fragment. I think that was just the first one you stumbled upon. But this… this is another one. The second Sword Tomb of the Sword Saint.”

Maxʼs expression turned contemplative as he walked further into the graveyard. ”Youʼre saying the Sword Saint has multiple tombs scattered across the universe?”

”Exactly,” Blob replied eagerly. ”The Sword Saint wasnʼt just a cultivator or a warrior. He was one of the few beings who transcended sword mastery itself. His will was so vast that even death couldnʼt contain it. Legends say that before his final battle, he divided his sword concept and buried it in different corners of existence, leaving behind countless tombs filled with his teachings. Each one tests the soul of the swordbearer who finds it.”

”So the one in the Tower of Truth was one of them,” Max said quietly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. ”And this… is another.”

”Thatʼs right. The Tower of Truth only showed you the beginning,” Blob said. ”You were still young in your understanding of sword concept back then. But this tomb… this one feels deeper, stronger. The sword concept here is purer, almost oppressive. The Sword Saint must have left a part of his true essence here.”

As Max continued walking, the air around him began to hum louder. The countless swords embedded in the ground trembled faintly as if acknowledging his presence. The faint whispers turned sharper, echoing in his mind like a thousand overlapping voices speaking in perfect rhythm.

He felt it—the same overwhelming clarity he had felt back then when he first touched upon the Concept of Severing Sword. The feeling of absolute detachment, the stillness that could slice through time itself.

The graveyard extended endlessly, but his eyes were drawn toward the center. There, atop a low hill, stood a single sword unlike any other. It was long and elegant, black as midnight, its blade reflecting no light. Around it, no other sword dared to stand close. The space near it seemed frozen, silent, untouched by time.

”This must be it,” Max said under his breath, his tone calm but filled with awe. ”The resting place of his will.”

”Youʼre right, Max,” Blob said, his voice quieter now but no less reverent. ”Thatʼs where the Sword Saintʼs second inheritance lies. If you can comprehend what he left behind here, your Severing Sword will ascend to a level no mortal has ever reached. Maybe even beyond law itself.”

Max approached the central hill with slow, deliberate steps. Each step he took echoed softly across the endless graveyard, resonating with the hum of countless buried swords. The air around him grew heavier, sharper, and colder.

It was as if every breath he took carried the edge of a blade. The closer he got to the sword standing at the top, the more his surroundings began to shift. The dull gray sky darkened, and streaks of pale light started forming circles in the air around him.

By the time he stood before the black sword, the entire world had fallen silent. Not even the faint whistle of the wind could be heard. Only the faint hum of the blade before him remained.

The sword itself was ancient and magnificent. Its blade was perfectly smooth, reflecting no light, and it exuded no aura of hostility or divinity. Yet standing before it, Max could feel an overwhelming power, one that reached beyond life and death. He could feel the echo of will within the sword—something eternal, something that defied even time itself.

”This is it,” he murmured softly.

The blade trembled slightly as if acknowledging his presence. Suddenly, a burst of invisible force erupted from it, spreading across the graveyard. The entire field of swords reacted instantly. Thousands of blades began trembling in unison, releasing a chorus of resonant cries that echoed across the realm. The energy gathered like a storm, swirling around Max and pulling him into its center.

His vision blurred, and in the next instant, he was no longer standing in the graveyard.

He was standing in a world of pure sword light.

The ground beneath him was made of glowing sword marks, each pulsating faintly. The air itself was filled with streaks of invisible sword energy—each one sharp enough to slice through mountains. Floating ahead of him was a figure.

It was a man dressed in tattered robes, his hair long and white, his face calm yet commanding. He stood with his back turned, holding a sword that radiated a brilliance that defied description. Though the man didnʼt speak, Max instantly knew who he was.

”The Sword Saint,” Max whispered under his breath.

The figure didnʼt move or acknowledge him. Instead, the man raised his sword slowly, and the entire world shifted in response. The sky split open, the earth trembled, and in the next instant, the manʼs sword moved—once, then twice, and then again in swift, flowing succession.

Each strike was so clean that it left no trace of movement, no burst of energy, and no sound. The air simply parted. The world itself seemed to yield before the swordʼs will. Max could feel the essence of the concept behind each strike—it wasnʼt destruction or domination. It was severance.

Each swing carried the pure intention to cut through everything—space, matter, and even fate itself.

His mind buzzed as countless fragments of sword intent surged into him. His comprehension expanded rapidly, his thoughts syncing with the flow of the Saintʼs movements. The difference between his previous understanding and what he was seeing now was immeasurable. Before, he could sever things that existed in front of him. Now, he was beginning to comprehend how to sever things that shouldnʼt exist.

He realized that this was the next step—the Fourth Level Concept of the Severing Sword: Severing the Intangible.

It was about cutting through things beyond physical form—cutting through cause, cutting through destiny, cutting through illusion, and even cutting through the laws that governed reality. It was a power that transcended creation and destruction alike.

He felt it ignite inside him like a blazing light. His Severing Sword intent transformed, becoming infinitely sharper. He could now sense the faint boundaries between existence and nothingness, and for the first time, he understood what it meant to truly sever.