Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100-Chapter 554: Light Elemental Attacks

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Chapter 554: Light Elemental Attacks

Max remained silent, absorbing the weight of her words.

That his bloodline was this rare... this anomalous... was something he hadn’t expected, even with everything he had already learned about himself.

The elven woman’s expression shifted again. This time, her gaze was piercing, almost searching. "Tell me," she said softly. "Have you ever... touched the one who carries the Royal Bloodline?"

Max frowned, confused by the sudden shift in tone. "I have," he said carefully, his voice calm but wary. "I think it was when I was on the brink of death. I wasn’t fully conscious. But... I remember being held."

A moment of silence passed.

The elven woman’s brows knit slightly. "And during that moment," she asked slowly, "did you... see anything?"

Max shrugged. "No, and even if I had, I can’t remember. As I said, I was on the brink of death, barely holding onto my life."

"Strange," the elven woman muttered, her eyes narrowing in thought.

Max smiled a bit and asked, "Can you let me pass now that you know I have the Divine Bloodline?"

"Hehe," the elven woman chuckled lightly. "I would have let you pass the seventh floor for that, but you bear the Mark of Divinity—and for that, I have to test you."

"Mark of Divinity?" Max frowned. "Do you know anything about it?"

"I know. I know everything about it," she said with a mysterious smile as small golden leaves began to fly around her from all directions, dancing gently in the air before their edges sharpened into deadly focus. "If you want to know about the mark, you’ll have to get past me and enter the ninth floor for that."

2

With those calm yet chilling words, the golden leaves suddenly shot toward Max like hundreds of golden bullets, each of them moving with terrifying speed and precision, lighting up the air as they neared him.

But Max didn’t move. He stood there as if he had all the time in the world, as if those golden leaves were nothing more than falling petals.

The first leaf hit him squarely on the forehead—Bang!—but it didn’t pierce his skin.

It shattered into golden dust.

Another leaf struck his chest, tearing his robe slightly—Bang!—but again, it failed to break through his skin.

Dozens more followed, hitting his legs, arms, waist, and shoulders from every angle, each strike sharp and swift, but every single one of them failed to penetrate his body.

They all bounced off, deflected as if they had struck a wall of divine steel.

Not a drop of blood came out. Not even a scratch was left behind. It was as if his very body had become untouchable—impenetrable.

The golden leaves kept hitting with insane speed, faster than bullets fired from a gun, slicing through the air like divine projectiles shot from the bow of a god. But the faster they hit Max, the faster they rebounded, bounced back, scattered into motes of golden light—as if they hadn’t collided with skin but something entirely foreign, something inviolable.

It was as if his body wasn’t made of flesh and blood at all, but of some celestial material that rejected all harm by its very nature. The leaves came in waves, hundreds at a time, filling the space around him with streaks of glowing gold, their edges sharp enough to tear through space itself. Yet each and every one of them struck and shattered with a dull thud, unable to even shift the folds of his robes.

Max didn’t flinch. His gaze was steady, unmoved, almost calm—as if he wasn’t being attacked at all but merely watching a harmless display of fireworks.

The area around him echoed with the soft ringing sound of failed attacks, a chorus of defeat that seemed to grow louder with each leaf that failed to leave a mark. His body stood there like an unshakable monolith—untouched, unbroken, untouchable.

"Those leaves are ineffective against—" Max muttered, but the words caught in his throat as a sharp sting suddenly shot across his right cheek. It was quick, almost like a whisper of pain, but it burned.

His eyes widened slightly, and instinctively, he lifted his hand to the side of his face. His fingertips met warm liquid. Blood.

He stared at his hand for a moment before glancing back toward the elven woman.

"Your defense is commendable," she said, still wearing that tranquil smile, her voice gentle yet laced with an underlying sharpness. "But don’t think that any defense is impenetrable."

As her words faded into the air, a single leaf floated before her, hovering gently like a feather on the breeze.

But this one was different—vastly different. It wasn’t golden like the others. It was pitch black, dark as the void, yet it shimmered with a faint inner light, as if it were forged from condensed shadows wrapped in strands of sunlight.

Max’s eyes sharpened. ’That leaf... it’s made of black flames, but there’s light mana infused into it too.’

He realized what she had done. She’d fused her golden light-element leaves with the corrosive sharpness of black flames to pierce his nearly indestructible defenses. It was a clever fusion and a cleaver attack.

She had layered them, folded strands of black flame into the inner structure of her light elemental golden leaves, forging them into weapons that gleamed like dark sun but bit like molten steel. That was how she had cut through his defense, how one had finally drawn blood.

And the realization struck a chord deep within him. He could do that too—no, he could do it even better. His Heavenly Luminance Divine Bloodline was a power far superior to hers.

Where her bloodline sang with nobility, his roared with divinity. If her golden leaves could be sharpened by black flame, then his own leaves—should he learn to create them—would be blades of divine judgment. Brighter. Sharper. Stronger. The potential within him was terrifying.

Yet, he hadn’t tapped into any of it. Not truly. The Heavenly Luminance Divine Bloodline remained an unexplored frontier within his body, a vast power hidden beneath the surface like a sleeping sun.

But now he understood. He had seen what could be done with just a lesser version of the same energy, and it ignited something in him—a quiet urgency, a hunger to reach deeper, to awaken the full might of what lay within.

’I will experiment with this bloodline later for sure,’ Max silently vowed, eyes cold with intent. This battle wasn’t just a test. It was a revelation.

"Now, let’s do this again, shall we?" the elven woman said with a serene smile, as though they were about to begin a polite conversation rather than an intense battle.

But her eyes shimmered with a dangerous light, one that warned of power that had yet to be fully revealed.

At her words, all the golden leaves that had been floating like graceful feathers around her suddenly darkened, one by one, as if dipped into an inkwell of void.

The transformation was not just visual—the atmosphere shifted instantly. A suffocating heat, the kind that distorted the air and made one’s skin crawl, began to emanate from the leaves.

They were no longer beautiful or divine—they had turned predatory. The once radiant golden glow had been engulfed by writhing black flames, and what remained in their place were blades of condensed malice and destruction.