Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Max went on, unfazed by Travis's killing intent. "Didn't you see it was my fist that sent that trash flying? I mean, I saw it. Everyone else saw it." He turned to the crowd and waved his hand as if asking for confirmation. "Right? You all saw it too, yes?"

Max looked back at Travis with a shake of his head, his expression filled with pity, not hostility. "Clearly, something's wrong with your eyes. Maybe too much arrogance damaged your brain. Tsk, how sad…" His words weren't shouted. They weren't angry. But their weight was far more devastating than any roar of fury could ever be.

The spectators didn't know whether to be shocked, laugh, or sit in silence. It was too much. Too direct. Too brutal. The arrogance of Thunder Monarch Hall had been shattered not just physically, but verbally.

Max hadn't just defeated a genius in one move—he was tearing their pride to pieces with a smile on his face.

And Travis… stood frozen. His fury seethed just beneath the surface, eyes burning with rage, but no words came out. Deep down, he knew Max hadn't used any treasure or underhanded method.

He was a Legend Rank 3-star genius, and with his perception, any foreign energy, artifact activation, or external interference would have been instantly detected.

There had been nothing—no flicker of runes, no sudden fluctuation in aura apart from the explosion of raw physical power. It had all come from Max.

And that was what twisted Travis's gut. Because even though he couldn't deny what his senses told him, his pride simply refused to accept that a mere 8th level Expert Rank genius could defeat one of their peak Master Rank recruits in a single fist.

It was preposterous. Ridiculous. Unacceptable.

"Don't be so happy this early," Travis finally spat, trying to cover his shaken pride with a glare as sharp as a blade.

Max, still in the center of the arena, laughed carelessly—hands resting on his hips, body relaxed, his grin wide and completely unaffected by the tension around him. It was the laugh of someone either too foolish to fear consequence or too confident to care.

To Travis, that laugh felt like nails across his ego.

With gritted teeth, Travis turned and barked, "Rey, go and teach this kid a lesson."

Rey, one of their more composed and reliable recruits, nodded without question. He was already in motion, his robes fluttering as he leapt down from the thunder beast roc and landed across from Max with steady steps and cold eyes.

But before he moved further, Travis sent him a voice transmission laced with urgency and warning. "Don't underestimate him. This kid's got tricks up his sleeves. Use your full strength from the start. Use the technique that the elders have given you. Do not hold back."

Rey's eyes narrowed slightly. "Yes, Senior Brother Travis," he replied calmly, his voice firm, his expression serious.

Having witnessed the fate of Kyle, who had arrogantly believed he could win in a single move, Rey was far more cautious. He had no intention of being the next fool to be flung off the arena like a ragdoll.

As he stood facing Max, the tension began to thicken once again—this time, everyone held their breath, no longer willing to underestimate the youth who had just shattered expectations with one devastating punch.

Just at that moment...

A fierce, wild aura exploded from Rey as purple lightning surged through the air around him, wrapping his entire body in crackling arcs of destructive energy.

The arena floor beneath his feet trembled as the sharp scent of ozone flooded the surroundings, a clear sign that his Concept of Lightning had reached the advanced stage of level one.

Electricity sparked from his skin, trailing like living snakes of light, each burst more violent than the last. The pressure emanating from him caused many spectators to hold their breath unconsciously, while even some of the final-round participants took an instinctive step back.

And then it happened.

In a sudden surge of light and power, three distinct lightning rings emerged behind Rey's back, rotating wildly in the air like celestial wheels of chaos. Each ring pulsed with the rhythm of his breath, shooting out volatile arcs of purple lightning that sizzled across the arena like lashes from a god.

The sheer presence of those rings told everyone that this wasn't just a display—it was the prologue to a storm.

Max's eyes widened—not from fear, but from realization. That technique. Those three rings of lightning... His pupils shrank slightly as the pieces connected. "Ten Hands of Lightning God…" he muttered under his breath, stunned. "He's actually using that technique." He never expected someone from Thunder Monarch Hall to have that technique.

"My master was once a member of the Thunder Monarch Hall," came Blob's voice, calm yet filled with a distant heaviness, echoing in Max's mind like a whisper from the past. Max's eyes twitched slightly, caught off guard by the sudden revelation. "He wasn't just any member. He was one of the top geniuses of the Thunder Monarch Hall in his era, rising quickly through the ranks until he eventually became an elder-level figure, feared and respected by many."

Blob's tone grew colder, more bitter, as he continued. "But later, due to a fierce conflict with one of the Four God Nations, my master acted recklessly. Enraged by their actions, he stormed into their territory to seek vengeance. Unfortunately, he was no match for their overwhelming power. He was defeated brutally, humiliated... and barely escaped with his life. After that, he was forced to flee from the Middle Domain entirely. And when he looked back for help, even his own force, the Thunder Monarch Hall, abandoned him. They chose silence, too afraid to oppose the Four God Nation."

Max stood frozen for a moment, trying to process the truth. His gaze flickered toward Rey and the other members of the Thunder Monarch Hall. That revelation made sense now.

Blob's master's affinity with lightning… the power in the technique he had gotten his hands on the temple… it was no coincidence. Everything was rooted in that hall.

Max had already heard parts of this story before, but knowing that Blob's master had once been a proud genius of Thunder Monarch Hall added a whole new layer of weight to it.

'But to think that the technique belong to Thunder Monarch Hall.' He took a deep breath as the memory of the Ten Hands of Lightning God technique flashed in his mind. The technique must have been part of the Thunder Monarch Hall and Blob's master had gotten his hands on the technique from the Thunder Monarch Hall.

"Don't use the Ten Hands of Lightning God technique in front of the Thunder Monarch Hall," Blob's voice warned once more, this time more firm and serious. "Unless you want to be hunted by yet another force."

Max's expression grew solemn, but he nodded in understanding. He clenched his fists lightly and muttered to himself, "So even more pieces are falling into place."

The history of the Thunder Monarch Hall, temple master's past, and the tangled legacy he had unknowingly inherited—it all made his coming battle even more personal.

Just then the air trembled as Rey raised his hand and calmly spoke, "Lightning God's Descent."

And the heavens responded.

A massive figure, formed entirely of condensed purple lightning, erupted into being behind him. Towering like a deity of war, it had ten muscular arms, each one exuding overwhelming force.

Six eyes burned like miniature thunderclouds, crackling and rolling within their sockets, and when the figure opened its mouth, it revealed fangs like curved daggers made of pure lightning, sharp and terrifying.

The sheer presence of the entity caused the temperature to rise and drop erratically, like nature itself couldn't decide whether to bow or flee.

Gasps echoed from the stands. The elders narrowed their eyes. Even the other seed participants looked shaken.

Max, though, stood still.

His expression was calm. His fingers twitched. A slow smile appeared on his lips.

"This… just got interesting."