Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 - Chapter 300

Chapter 300: Azula
Anton’s glare shut him down instantly.

“No buts. Just do as I say.”

His tone left no room for argument.

Bruce’s fists tightened, his nails digging into his palms.

His entire body was tense. Frustrated. Humiliated.

He had wanted to deny Max entry.

Wanted to make a statement.

But Anton’s reaction had shattered any chance of that.

Still clenching his jaw, Bruce turned his gaze toward Aurelia.

She stood in the distance, completely engrossed in discussion with King Magnar, Envoy Lucas, and Palace Master Hugh.

Not even sparing them a glance.

Bruce’s frustration grew.

Why wasn’t she stopping this?

Did she not care? Or was she choosing to ignore it?

His eyes burned with irritation.

But he had no choice.

With an audible exhale, he stepped aside.

A sign of reluctant acceptance.

And Max?

He just smiled.

Smug. Amused.

And finally, he walked past Bruce.

“Well, that was easy.”

His voice carried a playful edge. Too casual. Too confident.

It made Bruce’s blood boil.

But he said nothing.

Alice’s eyes flickered with something between relief and frustration.

She glanced around anxiously, then leaned in slightly.

Her voice was low, urgent.

“What are you doing here?”

Then, before Max could respond—

“My mom is right here.”

She said it like a warning.

Like she expected him to rethink his decision.

To turn around.

To leave before Aurelia even noticed.

But Max?

He just smiled.

“Don’t worry.”

His voice was calm. Assured.

“Your mother can’t do anything to me here.”

And just like that—his smile faded.

His expression hardened.

His voice turned low and serious.

“Alice, are you really planning to enter the Mourning Depths?”

His tone wasn’t accusatory. It wasn’t demanding.

But it held a weight. A concern.

Because he needed to hear it from her.

Alice’s eyes darkened.

She didn’t hesitate.

Not even for a second.

“I don’t care.”

She shook her head, her voice firm. Unwavering.

“I don’t care. I will go this time with you.”

Max’s fingers curled slightly.

She was stubborn. As always.

Then, something unexpected.

“Even my mother allows me to go this time.”

Max’s eyes narrowed.

Aurelia—allowed it?

“She said I might benefit from the Mourning Depths.”

Max sighed deeply.

Not in annoyance.

Not in anger.

But because he knew.

Alice wasn’t changing her mind.

She had already decided.

She was coming. No matter what.

Max didn’t argue.

Didn’t push further.

Instead—he reached into his storage.

And pulled something out.

A small vial.

Alice blinked, taking it instinctively.

Inside—a dark red liquid swirled.

But it wasn’t just red.

Within the substance—black flames flickered, twisting and curling.

Alive. Pulsing. Dangerous.

A faint heat radiated from the vial.

Even with the glass separating them, she could feel it.

Her fingers brushed over the surface, absorbing the warmth.

She frowned. “What is this?”

Her eyes met his—curious yet cautious.

Because the red liquid burned.

But the black flames?

They looked unnatural.

Max didn’t answer immediately.

Because this wasn’t just some ordinary potion.

This was something far more important.

Max hesitated for a moment before answering.

“It’s… it’s a good luck charm.”

His voice was calm, casual.

But the truth?

This vial was far more than a simple charm.

It was a safeguard. A tracker. A tether.

A rune.

Inside the vial was his blood—his very essence.

Mixed within it?

His black flames.

A volatile force. Alive. Pulsing. Carrying his very presence.

And that meant something very important.

As long as Alice carried it, he could find her.

No matter what.

Even if the Mourning Depths separated them.

Even if something tried to conceal her presence.

Even if she was in danger.

Max would be able to track his own blood.

Just like he could sense Callie and Klaus’s bloodlines.

This wasn’t just a gift.

It was a promise.

Alice glanced at the vial for a moment, her fingers brushing against the cool surface.

Faint warmth radiated from within—almost like a living thing.

Then, without hesitation, she nodded.

“Alright.”

And just like that—she stored it away.

No questions. No hesitation.

She simply trusted him.

But then—

Max felt it before he saw it.

A presence. Powerful. Swift. Unyielding.

He didn’t even need to turn around.

His lips curled into a knowing smirk.

“Hehe, it seems I need to get going now.”

Then—she arrived.

Aurelia.

Her arrival was silent but heavy.

Her aura pressed against the air around them.

Her face? Unreadable. Frosty. Cold.

Yet her eyes held something deeper.

Something calculating.

But Max?

He simply watched her.

She opened her mouth—

“You—”

An Explosion

BOOM!

The doors of the hall exploded.

Shards of wood and stone blasted outward.

The entire palace shook.

Gasps filled the room.

Before the dust could settle—dark figures surged inside.

Fast. Aggressive. With killing intent.

Their movements were precise. Coordinated.

This wasn’t just a disruption.

This was an ambush.

Just then?

“HAHAHAHA!”

A loud, booming laughter erupted, shaking the hall.

“It seems everyone has forgotten about the Monarch since Drevon had gone into seclusion.”

It wasn’t just laughter. It was mockery.

A voice filled with contempt and amusement.

Then—figures emerged.

Through the fading dust and shattered debris, shadows took shape.

And when the dust finally cleared—

They stood there.

A group of warriors. Ruthless. Unshaken.

Each of them carried an undeniable aura of confidence.

Their eyes burned with arrogance, their postures relaxed but predatory.

They weren’t here to negotiate.

They were here to dominate.

The moment their killing intent spread through the hall, a thick, suffocating pressure settled upon the gathered experts.

Their insignia?

The Monarch.

And leading them—

A woman with dark yellow hair.

Her stance was calm, but her presence burned like a storm waiting to erupt.

King Magnar’s expression darkened the moment he saw her.

His tone sharp. Demanding. Unwelcoming.

“What are you doing here, Azula?”

The air in the room shifted instantly.

Because that name—

Azula.

A name tied to carnage. Cruelty. Madness.

One of the strongest warriors of the Monarch.

Or one should say the Mistress of the Monarch.

She had a reputation for destruction.

A warrior who never fought fair.

And worse—never left loose ends.

Azula laughed.

Not just a chuckle. A sharp, piercing, mocking sound.

It was a laugh meant to provoke. To taunt.

She tilted her head, golden strands of her hair shifting under the light.

“What am I doing here?”

She repeated the words with mock surprise.

Then her lips curled into a smirk.

“Is that even a question I need to answer?”

A pause.

Her golden eyes gleamed.

Then—her smirk widened.

“Of course, I’m here for the Mourning Depths.”

Her tone was casual, almost lazy.

But then—

Something shifted in her gaze.

Something darker. Sharper. More personal.

And then—

Her eyes locked onto Max.

Her expression twisted into cruelty.

A slow, dangerous smirk spread across her lips.

“And also… to take care of some unfinished business.”

The moment she said it, the killing intent in the air thickened.

Max’s eyes didn’t waver.

But the others in the hall?

They could feel it.

The pressure. The tension.

Azula wasn’t here just for the Mourning Depths.

She was here for him.

And she wasn’t hiding it.

‘Who the hell is she now?’

Max’s mind raced. He could feel a very terrible aura from her.

Her presence.

Her hostility.

Her words.

Everything about her sent a warning through Max’s mind.