Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Chapter 995: Battle between Divine Rank experts

The darkness hadn’t extinguished them. It hadn’t even slowed them. His concept—his proud, perfected 4th level darkness—was ignored as though it were nothing. The black and purple flames consumed the shadows hungrily, feasting on them and growing even stronger.

Moro shrieked, his voice raw, desperate, animalistic. ”MASTER BALLION! HELP ME!”

Ballion’s face twisted. He tried again, pouring more power into his darkness, wrapping layers upon layers around Moro’s form. But the result was the same—every strand of darkness dissolved instantly, feeding the inferno until Moro’s figure was nothing but a blazing silhouette.

”No... this is impossible...” Ballion muttered, his crimson eyes widening in shock. ”My concept... can’t put it out?!” He forced more darkness forward, frantic now. Again. And again. But each attempt failed. The flames ignored him utterly, as if his power didn’t even exist.

”AGGGHHHHH!” Moro’s screams tore through the battlefield, high-pitched and pitiful. His body thrashed violently, his demonic aura collapsing as the flames devoured him. Skin blackened, muscles tore apart, his horns cracked and crumbled.

The stench of burning flesh filled the air.

Finally, with one last scream, guttural and broken like a pig being butchered, Moro’s entire body collapsed into ash. His cries ended abruptly as the black-and-purple flames consumed every last trace of him, leaving nothing behind—not flesh, not bone, not even a shadow. Only silence.

The hidden city stood frozen.

A demon genius, a proud child of the abyss, had been burned to nothing in front of their eyes. And worse—the flames that killed him had defied even Ballion’s power.

Max lowered his hand slowly, black flames still flickering around his scales, his faint smile cold and merciless. His eyes locked on Ballion’s crimson gaze.

”Protect him?” Max sneered, his voice quiet but cutting. ”Looks like you couldn’t.”

But inside, his mind churned violently. ’Those purple flames... Ashes of Insight devoured Moro’s memories while I burned him. What I saw...’ His stomach twisted. The knowledge he had torn from Moro’s dying soul left him rattled. The demons’ true intentions, their ties to the Ascendants, the object they sought in Acaris—it was darker than anything he had imagined.

Ballion’s crimson eyes locked onto him. His face appeared calm, almost expressionless, but the fury burning within was unmistakable. His voice rumbled low, like thunder before the storm.

”You really shouldn’t have killed Moro. He was my only disciple.”

Max only shrugged, the faint smile never leaving his face. ”What can I say? He was a demon. I’m a human. I had to kill him.” He leaned forward slightly, sneering. ”Besides, that piece of shit was too weak. It’s his fault he died.”

The taunt landed like a blade in the chest. Ballion’s façade cracked, his calm composure twisting into pure rage.

BOOM!

All around him, the 4th level Concept of Darkness exploded outward, enveloping him like an endless abyss. His aura spread like a tide of midnight, swallowing light, devouring air, smothering sound. The city itself seemed to fall silent under its suffocating weight.

President William immediately reacted. With a wave of his hand, his 4th level Concept of War surged, pushing Max away. A barrier of pure battle intent swept him toward Elder Liam’s side.

”Stay back, Max,” William said, his tone grave. His eyes narrowed, locking on Ballion. ”This is my battle.”

Max skidded to a halt beside Liam. His fists clenched as his instincts screamed to stay, but he knew—William stood on a level of battle no one else here could match.

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Ballion’s body rippled as tendrils of darkness wrapped around his limbs, condensing into black, armor-like constructs. His muscles swelled, enhanced by shadows, his claws lengthening into blades sharper than steel. Each step he took cracked the ground beneath him.

He vanished into the darkness and reappeared before William, his clawed hand slashing down.

Slash!

A blade of condensed darkness, sharper than the sharpest sword, tore through the air. But William didn’t flinch. His body glowed faintly with golden runes as his War Concept roared around him. He raised his arm, catching the strike with his bare forearm.

BOOM!

The ground erupted beneath them, but William stood firm. His fist cocked back.

Bang!

His punch slammed into Ballion’s chest, sending the demon skidding backward. But Ballion twisted, anchoring himself midair, his black aura boiling.

Dozens of spears made of pure darkness erupted around him, their tips gleaming like fangs. With a roar, he hurled them all at William.

The air screamed.

But William didn’t falter. His legs bent, his aura coiled, and then he kicked upward. His shin met the first spear, shattering it. His fists blurred, his body spinning, each motion flowing into the next. He used nothing but his body—legs, fists, shoulders, even his knees—to smash through every spear of darkness. Each strike roared with War Intent, each blow carrying the weight of countless battlefields.

Ballion snarled. He condensed his darkness into whips, lashing them outward, splitting into dozens of serpents of shadow that coiled around William. But William simply tore them apart with brute strength, his body blazing with golden light.

The fight raged across the city. Ballion darkened the skies, manifesting giant constructs—a colossus of shadow wielding a great hammer, chains of darkness that rattled like ancient prisons, even spikes erupting from the earth. Each construct bore the power of the 4th level Concept of Darkness, bending reality around them.

But William met them all with his body alone. His fists shattered the hammer. His legs broke the chains. His shoulders smashed through the spikes. Every movement he made was raw, primal battle—every strike honed by a concept that glorified conflict itself.

The clash between the two shook the world.

’This...!’ Max was shocked. He never seen Divine Rank experts fought before and so everything he was seeing right was a great experience for him.

Ballion’s fury only grew. Darkness surged around his body again, hardening into plates of black armor. His arms bulged, empowered further by shadow as his claws became monstrous, jagged scythes. He blurred forward, slashing at William in a relentless barrage—dozens of strikes per second, each one powerful enough to bisect a mountain.

William met him blow for blow. Fists, elbows, knees—his body moved like an unstoppable storm, tearing apart the darkness with raw strength. Each impact rang out like thunder, shaking the city to its core. Golden war intent burst with every strike, clashing against the abyssal darkness in showers of sparks that illuminated the battlefield like falling stars.