Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Max absorbed the explanation in silence before finally asking, "And the other method?"

Blob gave a faint, knowing smile. "Have enough soul strength to extract it yourself."

Max leaned forward immediately. "Soul strength? My current soul force is at the blue soul stage. Is that enough?" he asked with urgency.

Blob shook his head slowly. "It isn't that simple, Max. You would need to reach the violet soul stage—two whole stages above your current level—to even have a hope of success. You should understand something very clearly… even if you possessed the strength of a Divine Rank expert, it would mean nothing against the blood parasite in your body. That's how dangerous they are. So your options are few: either you grow your soul force to the violet soul stage, or you willingly subject yourself to the kind of extreme heat or cold that could kill most beings outright. Outside of these two paths…" Blob's gaze locked with his, "…there is no other way."

Max sat in silence for a long moment, letting Blob's words roll around in his mind. His soul had only just advanced to the blue soul stage during his time in the secret domain—a difficult breakthrough that had taken immense effort and the perfect opportunity.

Advancing another two stages to reach the violet soul stage in such a short span of time was unrealistic, unless he could somehow obtain exceptionally rare treasures that directly nurtured the soul. And treasures of that caliber were nearly impossible to come by, each one guarded jealously by powerful experts or buried in forgotten corners of the world.

That left only one viable path: subjecting himself to an environment of extreme temperatures. His gaze sharpened as a thought occurred to him. "Could my black flames be of any help here?" he asked.

The black flame was one of his most dangerous trump cards—fire that could devour anything, even energies and concepts. In his mind, their intensity might just reach the threshold of what Blob had described.

But Blob immediately shook his head, his tone leaving no room for optimism. "Your black flames are indeed terrifying… but with your current strength, you cannot generate a sustained field of heat intense enough to qualify. What I'm talking about is an environment so hot it's been forged over centuries, one where the very air sears the soul and blood boils the moment it flows through your veins. That kind of heat takes hundreds of years to naturally accumulate. Places like that are incredibly rare—and even harder to survive in."

Max slowly nodded, fully grasping the difficulty of what lay ahead. If he couldn't rely on himself, he would have to find such a place. His mind shifted to the journey ahead. "I'll be heading to the Obsidian Order in a week," he murmured. "I'll make inquiries there. A force of their scale is bound to have information on extreme temperature zones… and maybe, if I'm lucky, the exact location of one."

With the matter settled for now, Max wasted no time. He stepped into the Dimension of Time, letting its strange, unchanging atmosphere swallow him whole. The outside world faded away, replaced by the endless rhythm of his own heartbeat and the echo of his footsteps on the training ground within.

From that moment onward, his days became a relentless cycle—a monotonous yet purposeful grind of cultivation, refining his techniques, honing his combat sense, and tempering his body until every muscle fiber screamed. Hours blurred into days, and days into nights, though in the Dimension of Time, such distinctions felt meaningless.

He rose, trained until his limbs ached and his breath burned in his lungs, then stopped only long enough to gulp down food and collapse into brief, dreamless sleep before beginning anew.

There were no distractions here, no politics, no threats—only him, his will, and the unyielding pursuit of strength. And just like that, a full week passed.

Seven days in the outside world, but to Max, it felt like far longer, as if time had been stretched thin by the sheer weight of his constant exertion.

When he finally emerged from the Dimension of Time, his movements carried the quiet sharpness of a blade freshly whetted, his eyes steadier, his aura denser, and his body ready for whatever lay ahead.

"Now I have fully adapted to the power of Champion Rank," Max muttered to himself, his voice calm yet tinged with satisfaction. In the days before, right after stepping into the peak of Champion Rank, there had been a strange heaviness in his movements, a faint discomfort in the way his mana flowed through his veins, as if his body had been forced to carry more than it was ready for.

But after what felt like years of relentless training in the Dimension of Time, that awkwardness had faded away completely, replaced by a natural harmony between his body, mana, and abilities.

"This happened because you directly leveled up from the 1st level of Champion Rank to the 10th level almost instantly," Blob explained in his ever-steady tone. "Ten levels in a row filled your body with a massive surge of mana, but it was you who hadn't yet adapted to the strength of Champion Rank—let alone the peak."

Max nodded in agreement, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Hmm, I feel much better now."

With that, he changed into a fresh set of clothes—a dark, high-collared combat tunic reinforced with light armor at the shoulders and chest, paired with fitted black trousers and sturdy leather boots, practical yet sharp enough to match his status.

Adjusting the cuffs, he stepped out of his room, only to find Princess Lyra already waiting with her arms crossed.

"You're late," she said flatly, her gaze piercing.

"Am I?" Max chuckled lightly, scratching the back of his head. "I must have slept too much," he replied with a playful grin, brushing off her tone.

Lyra didn't bother with a response, merely giving him a pointed glare before turning on her heel. "Let's go." Without another word, she led the way toward the Battle Realm's massive battle cube within the heart of the Great Ruler Empire.