Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Chapter 1021: Coming down to the Lower Domain

The Valora Continent was no more.

What once stood as a land of bustling cities, proud guilds, and vibrant human life was now reduced to a nightmare of ruin and silence. The sky hung low and gray, choked with ash and smoke that still rose from smoldering wreckage. The very air reeked of death—thick with the metallic stench of blood and the sickly sweet rot of corpses left unburied.

The ground was littered with the bodies of men, women, and children. Human corpses sprawled everywhere, their lifeless eyes staring blankly into the void. Limbs torn apart, torsos shredded, bones cracked open—blood and entrails painted the earth in grotesque shades of red and black. Some clutched broken weapons, their hands still stiff in death, as if refusing to let go of their final act of defiance.

The land itself bore the scars of destruction. Massive craters pockmarked the earth where demonic power had struck, each one filled with stagnant pools of crimson rain and ash. Forests were reduced to charred wastelands of skeletal trees.

Rivers ran red, clogged with the bodies of the fallen, their waters no longer clear but thick with rot. Even the mountains in the distance looked broken, as if the very bones of the continent had been shattered.

This was not a battlefield that had ended. It was an extermination ground. A massacre so complete that life itself had been erased from the land.

This was the Valora Continent.

A continent once brimming with humanity, now nothing more than a scar on the world. A graveyard stretching endlessly, silent and accusing.

Maxʼs figure floated high above the Valora Continent, his body suspended in the smoky air, his crimson eyes fixed upon the land below. From this height, the full scope of the devastation spread endlessly before him.

Where once lay a thriving continent—filled with cities, guilds, forests, and life—now stretched nothing but ruin, corpses, and silence. The faint breeze carried the stench of blood and ash even this high, stabbing into his senses with merciless clarity.

ʼEveryone is dead…ʼ

The thought echoed hollowly in his mind. His chest tightened, his heart heavy as if wrapped in chains of guilt. ʼThey all died because of me.ʼ The truth carved into his bones with every passing second. The continent, once vibrant, had been turned into a graveyard simply because demons wanted him.

He closed his eyes briefly, and with a deep breath unleashed the power of his Three Dimensional Body. Invisible ripples spread across the continent as his perception expanded, blanketing mountains, rivers, cities, and ruins. His soul sense scoured wide and far, searching desperately for life—any life.

But all he touched were remnants of death. Shattered souls clinging faintly to corpses. Pools of resentment that lingered like ghosts.

And scattered within the ruins, faint flickers—officials from the Middle Domain, those who had come only after the massacre was already over. Too late. Always too late.

Maxʼs fists clenched, his knuckles whitening. The guilt suffocated him, every breath a reminder of his failure.

Then, as his gaze shifted eastward, something caught him. His perception swept across the East Region, the place where the inner guilds and hidden clans had once stood tall. His Three Dimensional Body blanketed the ruins, tracing the outlines of collapsed guild grounds, broken palaces, and shattered fields. And yet—his heart began to race.

ʼI canʼt see them…ʼ

He scanned again, forcing his perception deeper, wider. ʼI canʼt see any of the corpses of Amelia… or the others.ʼ

The realization struck him like a blade. His heart hammered violently in his chest, his breath catching. Could it be? Had they escaped? Or was it something worse?

Unable to bear uncertainty, Maxʼs body blurred into motion. A streak of red lightning cut through the broken skies as he shot across the continent, the wind howling in his ears.

He stopped only when he reached the West Region. His perception surged outward again, covering every ruin, every crevice of land. What he found nearly made his knees buckle.

Before him lay the unmistakable corpses of King Magnar and the elders of the Sun Palace. Their once-proud figures were nothing more than broken shells, scattered among the ruins of their palace halls. The blood-soaked banners of the Sun Palace hung in tatters, their golden suns darkened and smeared with gore.

Maxʼs eyes tightened, grief twisting into something sharp and venomous. But as his perception reached further, scanning the destroyed guild grounds, something gnawed at him again.

Aelric. Jack. The others.

Their bodies were nowhere to be found.

Maxʼs eyes widened, his crimson irises trembling with disbelief. He hovered there, silent, as his aura pulsed violently around him.

ʼWhy…? Why canʼt I see them either?ʼ

A storm began to rise within him, a mixture of hope and fear. If their corpses werenʼt here, then where were they?

ʼCould they still be in the Tower of Truth?ʼ

The thought struck Max like a ray of light breaking through endless storm clouds. His crimson eyes flickered, and for the first time since stepping onto the ruined Valora Continent, a spark of genuine relief burned in his chest. His lips parted ever so slightly, whispering to himself in disbelief. ʼIf they are… then at least… at least my friends survived this disaster.ʼ

But just as the weight began to lift from his shoulders, another thought slithered into his mind, poisoning that fleeting sense of relief.

ʼDid the twin demons not touch the Lost Continent?ʼ

The question made his expression darken. And then, as though pulled from the depths of his memory, an image surfaced in his mind—Lucien. That aloof figure sitting idly in the Elven Kingdom of the Lost Continent, calm as though the chaos of the world had nothing to do with him.

With Lucien there, Max realized, the demons wouldnʼt dare step foot in the Lost Continent. They would stay far away. They would avoid him at all costs.

Maxʼs fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned pale. His teeth ground together. ʼLucien…ʼ The name was like acid in his mind. ʼLucien could have stopped the attacks on Valora. He had the power. He could have intervened. But he chose to do nothing.ʼ