Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Chapter 1626 Connection with the Concept of Severing Sword!

”Wait a minute...”

His pupils contracted.

”I comprehended the Severing Sword Concept from within the Sword Saintʼs Tomb.”

The memory became vivid.

An endless burial ground stretched before him. Thousands upon thousands of swords had been embedded into the earth like a forest of graves. Some swords were snapped in half. Some had rusted with age. Some still radiated traces of killing intent so sharp that they seemed unwilling to die.

They had not looked decorative.

They had looked real.

They had looked like the remains of fallen swordsmen.

Among all of them, Max had chosen the sword resting at the highest peak visible to him. That sword had resonated with his heart, and through it he had comprehended the path of severance.

Now, standing before this boulder, the meaning of that scene felt entirely different.

”If those swords were genuine relics...”

His breathing unconsciously slowed.

”Then did each blade belong to someone who once fought the Sword Saint and died?”

The thought was terrifying.

It would mean the tomb was not simply a memorial. It would be a mountain of defeated sword paths. Every buried blade could represent a once-famous genius, a master in sword, a heavenly sword sovereign, or some ancient monster who challenged the Sword Saint only to fall.

Their swords would remain as silent witnesses.

Their pride would remain buried in steel.

Their defeat would become part of the Sword Saintʼs legend.

Max clenched his fist slightly.

Then what of the sword he had chosen?

What of the Severing Sword Concept hidden within it?

Could it have belonged to the final inheritor of a fearsome severing path, someone who sought to cut apart heaven and earth, fate and existence itself and yet still lost to the Sword Saint?

If so, then the concept Max now cultivated had come from a defeated challenger whose legacy survived only through that abandoned weapon.

Yet another possibility arose.

One even more shocking.

”Or...”

Maxʼs eyes locked onto the sword marks covering the boulder.

”What if the Severing Sword Concept belonged to the Sword Saint himself?”

That possibility sent a chill through him.

If the Sword Saint had once cultivated severance as one branch of his concept, then the sword Max found might not have belonged to a defeated enemy at all. It might have been one of the Sword Saintʼs own swords from an earlier era.

A sword once used, then abandoned.

A concept once mastered, then transcended.

A stage of growth cast aside after he walked toward something greater.

If that were true, then the concept Max had treasured as a major achievement might only be a fragment of the Sword Saintʼs past road.

A single leaf fallen from an ancient world tree.

Maxʼs scalp tingled as he considered it.

There was no way to know the truth yet.

Perhaps the tomb preserved the weapons of defeated rivals.

Perhaps it contained swords once wielded by the Sword Saint himself.

Perhaps it was both, a burial ground of challengers mixed with the remnants of the Sword Saintʼs own journey.

Whatever the truth might be, one fact had become impossible to deny.

His path had already intertwined with this mysterious Sword Saint long before today.

The comprehension he gained in the Tower of Truth, the Severing Sword Concept he carried, and the opportunity that had now brought him before this boulder all seemed tied together by an invisible thread.

Max slowly exhaled and steadied his mind.

Whether this was fate or coincidence no longer mattered.

He had once touched the shadow of the Sword Saint in a tomb.

Now he stood before another remnant of that same legend.

”I would advise you not to get honey-trapped by the sword marks on that boulder.”

The young man beside Max spoke while still staring forward, his tone carrying the weariness of someone who had seen too many people lose themselves here.

”Unless you want to become like those old monsters who have spent thousands upon thousands of years sitting before this stone.”

He subtly gestured toward the figures nearest the boulder.

Some of them looked ancient beyond words. Their robes were faded by time, yet their auras were vast and terrifying. Others appeared middle-aged or even youthful, but the stillness in their eyes carried the heaviness of endless years. They sat unmoving like statues, each one immersed in the sword marks as though the outside world no longer existed.

”One day becomes one year,” the young man continued quietly. ”One year becomes ten thousand. Many came here seeking enlightenment. In the end, enlightenment became their prison.”

Max listened carefully.

The warning was not without reason.

There was something deeply addictive about the boulder. Every sword mark seemed to contain mystery. Every trace seemed to hint at a higher truth just beyond reach. It was easy to imagine how a swordsman could stare at it for centuries believing the next moment would bring breakthrough.

Then centuries more would pass.

Max nodded calmly.

”Hm. I will keep that in mind.”

The young man gave him one last glance, then seemed satisfied.

”Good. Curiosity is fine, but obsession ruins more geniuses than enemies ever do.”

With that, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd of wandering cultivators.

Max remained where he stood.

His eyes returned to the giant boulder covered in countless sword marks. Winds moved around it in faint spirals, carrying threads of sharpness that could be felt even from a distance.

His thoughts drifted back to what he had considered earlier.

If his guess was correct, and the final inheritor of the Severing Sword Concept had once challenged the Sword Saint and died, then that battle must have been extraordinary beyond imagination.

The Concept of Severing Sword was not ordinary.

Max knew that better than anyone.

It was a path that pursued absolute cutting power. It sought to sever flesh, sever mountains, sever energy, sever formations, sever destiny, and perhaps even sever intangible principles themselves. It was tyrannical, direct, and terrifyingly pure.

Even in his incomplete state, the concept had already granted him fearsome offensive power.

What, then, of the last true bearer who had fully matured that path?

Such a person would have been a heaven-shaking swordsman.

Yet even that existence may have fallen.

Maxʼs gaze deepened.

”If that person truly challenged the Sword Saint and died...”

”Then what kind of concept did the Sword Saint possess?”

Could it have been a concept stronger than severance itself?

The thought sounded simple, yet it shook Max internally.