Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Chapter 601: Five Stages of Citadel

Max had always thought the Four God Nations were the peak of power, the shining pillars of order in the vast world of Acaris, but now he realized just how much had been erased from history. A fifth nation. A fifth divine family. And one that had been stronger than all four combined before it was wiped away. An evil fifth god nation.

He could still feel the eerie weight of that dark legacy lingering in the air, as though the echoes of that fallen kingdom were watching him from the shadows.

”This citadel…” he muttered, finally piecing it together. It wasn’t just some random ancient ruin filled with treasures and trials—it was the legacy left behind by the Divine King Atherion himself, a final gift to the people of the Devil God Nation.

When Atherion had ascended, he must have foreseen the war that would follow. So he left behind the Citadel—sealed, hidden, protected by keys and deadly stages—waiting for someone of his bloodline or spirit to reclaim it.

Silus, Max now understood, had somehow stumbled upon one of the rare maps of this legacy site, perhaps handed down through stolen inheritance or forbidden research. That map had allowed him to navigate this place with ease, knowing about the stages, the treasures, and the secrets none of the others could even guess.

But now, Silus was dead—and Max was the only one who knew the truth. The legacy of the Devil God Nation wasn’t lost. It had only just begun to awaken.

But one thing continued to nag at Max, a question that refused to leave his mind no matter how many pieces of the puzzle he had gathered—why was the legacy left behind in the Lower Domain? And even more baffling, why had the Four God Nation, despite knowing that this citadel was connected to Divine King Atherion, taken no concrete steps to claim or destroy it?

Surely, with all their vast resources, ancient knowledge, and deep-rooted hatred for the Devil God Nation, they would have found and erased every trace of Atherion’s legacy by now.

Max frowned, pondering the contradictions. It made no sense. The Four God Nation had been meticulous in hunting down every remnant of the Devil God Nation, going as far as erasing bloodlines and leveling cities. So why leave the citadel untouched? Why allow it to remain hidden in the Lower Domain, where anyone could stumble upon it—even someone like him?

Shaking his head, Max let out a slow breath. There were still too many gaps, too many unanswered questions circling the citadel. From what he’d seen in Silus’ memories, the knowledge he’d gained was limited to the history of the Middle Domain, and while it explained the rise and fall of the Five God Nation, even Silus had no clue why the higher-ups of the Four God Nation had not moved against the citadel.

It seemed the true motives were still hidden, buried beneath layers even Silus hadn’t reached.

”Anyway, there should be some answers in the fifth stage,” Max muttered under his breath, his gaze sharp. From Silus’ fragmented understanding, Max now knew that the citadel was split into five stages, each one testing something different—concept, comprehension, survival, legacy.

And it was only the final, fifth stage where the actual inheritance of Divine King Atherion was hidden. That was where the truth would be. That was where the final secret should be revealed.

Turning to Klaus, who had been quietly standing by, Max spoke calmly but firmly, ”Let’s go to the third stage of the citadel.”

Klaus nodded, saying nothing, though deep inside his thoughts swirled. There was a time not too long ago when Max had been the junior between them—less experienced, less powerful—but now, that gap had become a canyon. He couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of pride and unease, knowing Max’s strength had soared to a level far beyond his own.

Then Max turned his gaze to Nortan, eyes cold and gleaming with finality. ”As for you, Nortan… I don’t trust you at all.” His voice was sharp, decisive. ”I trust Klaus because he shares the same bloodline as me—he can be trusted. But you… You’ve seen me kill Silus. That alone is reason enough. You must die.” His words cut like blades, merciless

”Wai—” Nortan barely managed to get a word out before Max’s figure flickered and appeared before him in a flash. With a single, clean motion, his sword came down, and Nortan’s head was severed from his shoulders. His body collapsed to the ground without resistance. One strike. That was all it took.

Perhaps if Nortan hadn’t panicked, if he had tried to fight instead of stuttering in fear, he might’ve lasted a moment longer—but it didn’t matter.

Max looked at the lifeless, headless corpse with no emotion on his face. He remembered clearly—back in the Lucas Palace, Nortan was the first to want him dead the moment Lucas entered his palace. For people like that, Max had no pity. None at all.

”Let’s head to the third stage,” Max said firmly, and Klaus responded with a quiet nod.

Without wasting another second, Max took the lead, guiding Klaus through the dimly lit corridors deeper into the heart of the second stage. Eventually, they reached a large, ancient door etched with runes that pulsed faintly with an energy that felt both old and aware.

According to the memories Max had extracted from Silus, this door—like the other four scattered across the citadel’s second stage—would not open unless everyone who had entered their respective areas gathered before their corresponding doors.

Only when all five doors had someone waiting before them simultaneously would they unlock and grant passage forward. It was a system designed to ensure progression in unity, even among enemies.

As Max and Klaus stepped in front of their door, a heavy groan echoed out, and the door slowly creaked open on its own. That meant one thing—everyone else across the citadel had already taken their positions and had likely been waiting.

”Only we two entered this section of the second stage,” Max said under his breath, casting a meaningful glance toward Klaus.

Klaus nodded in silent agreement, fully understanding what Max was implying—that the other four groups might be larger, more dangerous, perhaps even chaotic. But here in the second stage, it had only been the two of them and nobody else had entered the second stage with them.

Of course, that was all a lie and Klaus understood that as well.

With no more words needed between them, Max stepped forward and crossed the threshold, Klaus following closely behind. The moment they entered, the temperature seemed to drop slightly, the air thicker with anticipation. The third stage of the citadel awaited them.

***

Unknown to both Max and Klaus, just moments after they vanished into the third stage of the citadel, something sinister stirred behind them. The headless corpse of Nortan, left sprawled across the bloodstained floor, began to tremble unnaturally. A faint pulse flickered from within the severed neck, like a dying spark reigniting.

At the same time, his severed head, lying a short distance away, twitched violently. Then, as if pulled by invisible strings, the body and the head jerked toward each other—slow at first, then accelerating with unnatural speed.

In less than a heartbeat, the severed head slammed onto the neck stump with a sickening thud. A brief silence followed. And then, with a faint hiss of energy, the flesh knit itself together. Veins reconnected. Muscles flexed. Bones locked into place.

In the blink of an eye, the corpse was whole again—no scar, no wound, not even a drop of blood spilled from the reattachment. And as its eyelids fluttered open, a faint red glow shimmered in Nortan’s eyes.