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Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Chapter 308: A Wailing Ghost · Oct 05, 2026

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Chapter List (2046)

Page number / 41

301 Chapter 301: Three Months of Time 2026-10-05
302 Chapter 302: Divine Rank - The Peak of the World 2026-10-05
303 Chapter 303: Amara Moyer 2026-10-05
304 Chapter 304: A Map 2026-10-05
305 Chapter 305: A Foolʼs Dream 2026-10-05
306 Chapter 306: Bored 2026-10-05
307 Chapter 307: Replacing Slaughter with Infernal Energy 2026-10-05
308 Chapter 308: A Wailing Ghost 2026-10-05
309 Chapter 309: A Horrifying Scene 2026-10-05
310 Chapter 310: Darkness 2026-10-05
311 Chapter 311: A Song... 2026-10-05
312 Chapter 312: RUN! 2026-10-05
313 Chapter 313: Sinful Bone Frame 2026-10-05
314 Chapter 314: Hunting 2026-10-05
315 Chapter 315: Sealed 2026-10-05
316 Chapter 316: A Painful Process 2026-10-05
317 Chapter 317: Unholy Trinity Body 2026-10-05
318 Chapter 318: Manifestation 2026-10-05
319 Chapter 319: Wraith of the World 2026-10-05
320 Chapter 320: Seven Lightnings of Judgment 2026-10-05
321 Chapter 321: Vanished into nihility 2026-10-05
322 Chapter 322: Pressure Making Expert Rank KNEEL 2026-10-05
323 Chapter 323: Eating Away Fate 2026-10-05
324 Chapter 324: Deviant 2026-10-05
325 Chapter 325: Yin and Yang 2026-10-05
326 Chapter 326: Looking Forward 2026-10-05
327 Chapter 327: Meeting Envoy Lucas 2026-10-05
328 Chapter 328: Soul Search 2026-10-05
329 Chapter 329: Eleven Layers of Infernal Demon Tattoo 2026-10-05
330 Chapter 330: Half an year... 2026-10-05
331 Chapter 331: Safe Zone 2026-10-05
332 Chapter 332: Infernal Storm 2026-10-05
333 Chapter 333: Meeting Others 2026-10-05
334 Chapter 334: True Mourning Depths 2026-10-05
335 Chapter 335: Max Taking the Lead 2026-10-05
336 Chapter 336: Soul Mark 2026-10-05
337 Chapter 337: A Dragon? 2026-10-05
338 Chapter 338: A Dragonʼs Assistance 2026-10-05
339 Chapter 339: Meeting with leaders 2026-10-05
340 Chapter 340: 340. Greed and Rage 2026-10-05
341 Chapter 341: Go Ahead and Kill Me 2026-10-05
342 Chapter 342: Pity 2026-10-05
343 Chapter 343: Moving Forward 2026-10-05
344 Chapter 344: Sword and the Altar 2026-10-05
345 Chapter 345: Mark Vendor 2026-10-05
346 Chapter 346: A Showdown 2026-10-05
347 Chapter 347: A Conspiracy 2026-10-05
348 Chapter 348: Twelve Layer Infernal Demon Tattoo 2026-10-05
349 Chapter 349: My Soul is sealed here 2026-10-05
350 Chapter 350: Evil Sword 2026-10-05

Chapter 308: A Wailing Ghost

The red-haired youthʼs face twisted in anger and disbelief.

No one moved.

No one followed.

His bold declaration—his dramatic rebellion—

had been met with silence.

The silence of rejection.

He tried to pretend it didnʼt bother him.

Tried to convince himself it wasnʼt about face.

But in reality…

It was always about Amara.

And she didnʼt even spare him a glance.

She stood a short distance away, composed, aloof—

Her breathing calm. Her expression indifferent.

To her, he didnʼt even exist.

He clenched his fists.

Jaw tight.

Ego bleeding.

He wanted to curse them all.

Spit out some final, venom-laced line before storming off into the fog alone.

But he never got the chance.

Suddenly—

A sound tore through the mist.

Not a voice.

Not a human.

Not a language.

It was a wail.

A sound of something twisted.

Alive, but not right.

It was high-pitched, broken,

like glass grinding inside flesh,

like something dying and laughing at the same time.

The red-haired youth froze mid-step.

Everyone did.

Weapons were drawn immediately.

Steel. Flame. Shadow. Lightning.

A dozen types of power flared up in an instant.

Max narrowed his eyes.

His Lightning Wheel of Samsara trembled in his palm, the energy inside it suddenly unstable—as if whatever screamed had affected it.

Old Man Grey didnʼt hesitate.

He reached behind his back and pulled out a crescent-shaped sickle—worn, cracked in places, but glowing with a strange black-blue aura.

His body tensed, spine straight, muscles taut like a drawn bow.

His face was still—but his eyes were fire.

”Without my order—” he said, voice low, sharp, absolute, ”Do. Not. Act.”

The air around them shifted instantly.

The joking atmosphere, the boredom, the bravado—all vanished.

Even the red-haired youth stood frozen, no longer proud.

Because now, they werenʼt imagining what the Mourning Depths could hold.

Now, they were hearing it.

And it was coming closer.

Step by step.

Through the fog.

Dragging its broken wail behind it.

Something was approaching—

And it was not human.

”Ahhh!!”

The scream cut through the fog like a jagged blade—not human, not animal—something in between, something wrong.

Then—

A gray shadow burst from the mist.

Fast. Violent. Silent no longer.

It darted toward the group like a vengeful arrow, its form shifting and contorting, legs bent the wrong way, arms dragging behind it, mouth wide open—unhinged like a beast.

Its target?

The red-haired youth.

Of course.

The one who shouted.

The one who complained.

The one who drew attention.

The one who nearly left the group behind.

Now—

He was the one who would bear the first strike.

Old Man Greyʼs eyes widened.

He opened his mouth—

”Donʼt be nervous! This is only—”

But the words were cut off.

Too slow.

Too late.

The red-haired youth shouted back—

”Go DIE!”

His body lunged forward.

His sword glowed deep blue—

a blade of compressed Wing Aura extending off its edge like a spectral wing.

And in that moment—

he didnʼt hold back.

Not even a little.

This wasnʼt defense.

This wasnʼt calculated combat.

This was a full-force vent.

A boiling storm of wounded pride and reckless rage.

BOOM!

The sword light roared out like a comet.

The very space around it trembled—

warped, as if reality itself feared what was coming.

The fog split open.

The gray shadow was pierced, its twisted form lifted off the ground by the sheer force of the strike.

Infernal energy in the surroundings scattered like broken threads.

Pressure exploded outward, shaking the air, blowing everyoneʼs robes back.

The wind howled.

The stone underfoot cracked.

For a brief moment—

the Mourning Depths itself… seemed to shudder.

The red-haired youth stood tall.

Chest heaving.

Eyes wide with adrenaline.

He believed he had won.

Believed heʼd proven his strength.

Believed he had erased his shame.

But what he didnʼt know—

Was that he had just broken the rule.

Old Man Grey had said it.

Warned them all:

”Suppress your strength. Never go above 30%. Do not stir the infernal energy.”

But this idiot—this idiot had cut the entire atmosphere apart.

Old Man Greyʼs expression snapped.

His face flushed red with fury, his voice no longer calm or ancient—but raw, sharp, laced with the tone of someone who had just watched a fool crack open a coffin theyʼd been told not to touch.

”Do you want to kill us all?!”

He roared, pointing a finger toward the red-haired youth.

”I told you not to use your full strength—not to create waves—not to stir the damn infernal energy—!”

But the idiot didnʼt even flinch.

No remorse.

No realization.

He barked back like a rabid dog.

”Fuck off!”

Spit flew from his lips.

His voice rose with arrogant fury.

”I donʼt serve you! Why the hell should I care what you want?”

He turned to the others, flinging his arm toward the silent crowd of geniuses.

”And all of you! Pathetic cowards! Bowing your heads to the Divine Palace like scared dogs! These restrictions, these ʼrulesʼ—you let them bind you like chains!”

His chest rose and fell.

Rage.

Bitterness.

Years of it.

And it all poured out like poison now.

But what no one had known—

not until this very moment—

Was that his rage ran deeper than ego.

It was fear.

He wasnʼt from a powerful family.

Not truly.

His current faction, though it granted him resources, was a place of backstabbing smiles and knife-point friendships.

Every day, he lived with the fear that someone he drank with would poison his tea.

That his own ”brother” in arms would slit his throat in the night just to move one step ahead.

That was the reality of many factions in the Valora Continent—especially for those at the bottom.

He didnʼt trust them.

Never had.

Thatʼs why he was here—why he chased Amara so desperately.

Not for romance.

But for freedom.

For safety.

For a future where he wouldnʼt be hunted by his own side.

But now, no matter how loud he yelled—no one answered.

No one defended him.

No one argued.

No one clapped.

Only silence.

And that silence…

was terrifying.

And now he was feeling the same thing.

Everyone was silent as they looked at him.

And he liked this feeling.

At first, he felt liberated.

Unburdened.

Like heʼd finally said everything that needed to be said.

But it was only a moment later he noticed something.

The others stayed quiet.

But not in support.

Not in shock.

There was something else in their eyes—a tension.

A horror.

A look like they were already mourning him.

Then—

A voice, calm but cold.

Amara.

She raised a hand—pointing.

Her skin pale.

”You… your leg…”

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