Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100-Chapter 843: Exhausted

Glen didn’t hold back. He lifted the Azure Thunder Sword and brought it crashing down, and in that instant, the entire sky above Max transformed. It wasn’t just lightning—no, it looked like a vast sea of thunder had been flipped upside down and poured toward him.

Thousands of bolts intertwined, forming rivers of electricity that all converged on Max. Glen himself dived down right behind the attack, his body wrapped in thunderous force, adding even more weight to the blow. Though it was only a basic sword strike, the sheer force, precision, and mastery made it as terrifying as a divine technique.

Max’s face hardened. He could feel the incredible pressure bearing down on him—both from Glen’s cultivation and from his sheer swordsmanship. He didn’t dare to be careless. With a deep breath, he activated Dragon Scales Transformation.

Instantly, black glowing scales coated his body like a divine armor. His physical power surged, and the air around him trembled. Then, without hesitation, he swung his Blue Dragon Sword upward, its edge wrapped in the power of his level 2 severing sword concept, executing the signature move of his Severing Flow Sword Art.

A tremendous explosion shook the entire volcano.

Lightning clashed against sword light, thunder collided with severing force. Max stood at the center of the chaos, resisting the thunderstorm with brute force. But even though the lightning couldn’t harm him—thanks to his own comprehension of level 2 lightning concept—he made a split-second decision.

He let the force push him backward, acting as though he was overwhelmed. With a loud boom, he flung himself away, crashing against the mountainside. The impact sent chunks of rock flying. Max landed heavily, dust rising around him. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he groaned, clutching his side.

It was all an act.

Inside, his energy churned and swirled violently, but he wasn’t truly injured. Yet to Glen’s eyes, Max now appeared battered and vulnerable.

"You really disappoint me by being so weak," Glen said with a sneer, his voice echoing coldly through the scorched volcanic air. He slowly shook his head and let out a sigh, almost like a teacher dismayed by a failed student.

Then, without another moment’s hesitation, he lifted the Azure Thunder Sword once more. A violent crackle of lightning erupted from the blade as he swung it down with overwhelming force, intent on ending Max’s life in a single blow.

The energy surging from his sword was immense, and Glen was certain that no one of Max’s cultivation could possibly survive this. But just as that sword was about to fall, something unexpected happened.

A terrifying energy suddenly erupted from Max’s body, and with it, a massive wave of pressure swept outward, blowing away the suffocating heatwaves and shaking the mountain beneath them. Glen instinctively halted his attack mid-air, eyes narrowing.

The air shimmered strangely around Max, and then Glen saw it—black flames. Endless black flames coiled into the sky like a demonic dragon rising from the underworld. Above Max, these black flames condensed rapidly into dozens, then hundreds of flaming weapons—swords, halberds, spears, axes—all shaped by the sinister fire.

Max himself was wrapped entirely in the same black flames, his figure outlined in shadows and embers. A floating black crown formed above his head, burning silently, ominously.

"Black flames?" Glen raised an eyebrow, slightly startled but intrigued. He chuckled and nodded slowly. "So... you have a connection with the Black Lotus Guild. That’s quite interesting."

His tone shifted—no longer dismissive, but solemn. The playfulness in his eyes faded as he looked at Max with new respect, or perhaps caution. "You’ve mastered a level 2 sword concept, killed multiple Legend Rank experts while still in the Master Rank... If you’re killed by me, Glen of the Absolute Sword Palace, one of its most prominent geniuses, then it will be your honor. You should be grateful."

Glen laughed suddenly, his voice sharp and unrestrained. There was an unsettling hunger in his eyes, and his face was slightly flushed with anticipation. The Azure Thunder Sword in his hand released a terrifying burst of energy again—blades of lightning formed in the air, twisting and writhing like serpents.

From his position high in the sky, the lightning around him crackled louder, thunder rolling like drums of war. "Max," he said, voice cold and final, "I will kill you with my sword—so you can die with dignity."

Without waiting for a response, Glen dove from the sky like a bolt of divine punishment. His sword tore through the air, crackling with so much lightning that the entire sky lit up with a flickering blue.

As he descended, the ground trembled, and the flames around them scattered violently, pushed away by the violent force. A deep, deafening BOOM echoed as craters opened around where Glen passed, showing just how lethal that sword strike was.

But Max didn’t flinch.

He simply smiled.

Above him, the black flame crown spun, and from it, countless flaming weapons surged forward like a black tide of destruction. The swords, spears, and axes—each one forged in fire—collided midair with Glen’s descending sword slash.

A shockwave erupted, light and shadow colliding in the sky.

In a brilliant flash, Glen’s sword attack was overwhelmed. His lightning sword shattered, torn apart by the hundreds of black flaming weapons that rammed into it one after another.

Glen’s eyes widened in disbelief, but before he could react, a new sound followed—cough! Max bent over, blood spraying from his lips. His knees gave out, and he stumbled backward, collapsing to one knee.

The black crown above him trembled.

And then... it shattered like glass.

All the black flaming weapons in the sky followed, vanishing one by one into wisps of fading flame.

Max’s face had gone pale. Sweat drenched his forehead, and blood dripped from the corner of his mouth onto the cracked earth below. His breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly. From the outside, it looked like he had just forcefully used some forbidden, overdrawn technique—a desperate move to survive the fatal blow.

He didn’t say a word, didn’t taunt, didn’t move.

He just stared at Glen through hazy, tired eyes... watching. Waiting.