Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Lenavira didn't respond. She was still curled against the cold wall, her body faintly trembling, long hair cascading forward to hide her face. The faint traces of darkness swirling over her skin told him her Dark Elf form still lingered, eating away at her natural aura.

His chest tightened at the sight. He wanted nothing more than to rush forward, shake her awake, carry her out—but reason held him back. The cell's walls weren't stone or steel. They were transparent, polished spiritglass, designed so guards and wardens could watch everything inside with a single glance. Any rash movement would give him away.

'I've already risked too much forcing that guard to open the door,' Max thought, his jaw tensing. 'One wrong step now, and all of this collapses.'

He inhaled slowly, steadying his pulse. No—he had to act with precision, not desperation.

From his storage space, he drew out a thin rune, etched with delicate patterns that shimmered faintly blue. A rune he had prepared before entering. Carefully, he pressed it to the inside of the transparent wall. The engravings flared to life with a soft glow, and then—vanished.

The wall looked the same to the outside world, but within Max's sight, thin dotted green lines slithered like serpents across Lenavira's curled body. They crept over her form, scanning, measuring, imprinting. Then, like water filling a mold, light coalesced into shape—an image, no, a projection of Lenavira, sitting in the exact same posture.

From outside the cell, nothing changed. To the guards glancing this way, she was still motionless, still defeated, still chained by her Dark Elf form. But within, Max saw the overlay—illusion layered perfectly atop reality.

"Good," Max whispered, lips curling faintly. The rune had worked.

Now came the most dangerous step.

He reached into his storage space and withdrew a small black sphere no bigger than his palm. Its surface was dull, unremarkable, as though it had been carved from plain stone. But Max knew better. This was no ordinary tool—it was the treasure called Space Anchor Sphere he had obtained back in the Citadel of the Lower Domain.

Max had used this treasure only once in the Middle Domain to save his life against the attack of the third elder of the Void Soul Tower when he had killed June, their Heaven Grade genius.

'Princess Lyra… I hope you have already prepared for what I have asked earlier.'

Closing his eyes briefly, Max willed his mana to flow into the sphere, flooding it with the deep azure glow of his Blue Soul. The inscriptions hidden along its surface flared like constellations. He then layered his comprehension of the space concept into it—level three, sharp and cutting, enough to twist reality itself.

The sphere trembled in his hand, growing heavier, denser, until it hummed with unstable power.

With a silent prayer, Max tossed it gently toward Lenavira.

For an instant, the black sphere floated across the cell, glowing brighter and brighter. Just as it was about to strike her frail figure, the glow pulsed outward. Space shivered. The world inside the cell rippled like disturbed water.

Then—she was gone.

Vanished without sound, without trace.

Max blinked once, scanning with his soul sense. His heart eased when he feel her bloodline anywhere around him. She had been taken out of this cursed cage. 'She should be back in my room in the Great Ruler Empire.'

And yet, to the guards patrolling beyond the transparent wall, Lenavira remained. They saw her still huddled in the corner, motionless and defeated. The projection from the Illusion Rune had fused seamlessly, cloaking his actions perfectly.

A 5th grade rune—Illusion Rune. Rare, costly, and precise. Its power was simple: it projected a false image over reality. And now, that false image was the mask covering Lenavira's absence.

Max exhaled slowly, shoulders easing though his mind remained sharp. 'Phase one complete.'

Now came the harder part—getting both of them out alive.

Max leaned back against the cold wall of the spiritglass cell, his breath quiet and steady. Lenavira was safe—anchored away to his room in the Great Ruler Empire but the result was that he got locked in her cell in her place.

He allowed himself a wry smile, shaking his head. 'It's ironic. I came to free her, but in the end, I share her prison.' His eyes flicked toward the empty corner where the projection of Lenavira still sat, curled up and unmoving. 'At least the illusion rune holds steady. To them, nothing has changed.'

Max exhaled softly, mind turning sharp again. 'It's a pity that the Space Anchor Sphere could only anchor one individual at a time.' He had gambled on that fact before even stepping into Greenwood Region. The Space Anchor Sphere was a great treasure but like everything it also had its limitations.

It could only be used by one person.

But Max was not a man who ever walked into the lion's den without leaving himself a way back out.

Outside the cell, a handful of guards had gathered, whispering in uneasy tones. Max could hear every word through his sharpened senses.

"Did you feel that ripple?" one muttered, eyes scanning the corridor nervously.

"It felt like a Divine Rank tearing past," another said, his voice hushed. "For a moment, I thought the whole obelisk would collapse."

"Divine Rank? Don't joke," a third snapped, though his hands shook. "If a true Divine Rank was here, we'd already be corpses. But we can't rule out that possibility."

Their fear wasn't aimed at the cell. It wasn't aimed at him. It was a smokescreen he could use.

Max's lips curved faintly. 'Good. Keep looking in the wrong direction.'

His gaze lowered to the rune affixed against the spiritglass wall outside the cell. It looked inert, lifeless, as if nothing more than a scrap of etched stone. But Max knew its true secret. This was no mere illusion rune like before—this was his safeguard, his exit route.

The rune contained a single wisp of his Level 3 Space Concept, bound and compressed into its pattern. Before entering, Max had set it on a timed release—thirty minutes. All he had to do was endure until then.

And now, the time was almost upon him.

Minutes crawled by, measured only by the shifting boots of the guards and the faint buzz of the obelisk's barrier. Max sat cross-legged, his Blue Soul thrumming quietly in his chest, already aligning his Three Dimensional Body with the latent currents of space.

Then—