Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 - Chapter 318

Chapter 318: Manifestation
Hovering in the sky above—massive, monstrous, utterly unnatural—was a black statue.

No, not just a statue.

An abomination of stone and shadow. It had no face. Its shaped humanoid. Its presence alone warped the very space around it.

It was so vast it pierced through the sky, shattering the very stars above the Mourning Depths like glass.

Max’s heart thudded once—hard—then again, louder.

“What… is that…?” he whispered, frozen in place.

“That,” a familiar voice echoed in Max’s ears, calm yet tinged with awe, “is a Manifestation.”

Max turned his head slightly as Blob emerged from the Dimension of Spirit, floating beside him with an unusually serious expression.

“Manifestation?” Max repeated, brows furrowing. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Blob’s button-like eyes gleamed strangely in the dim light of the Mourning Depths. He stared at Max for a moment, almost as if he were trying to decide whether to explain something sacred or dangerous—or both.

“A Manifestation,” Blob said slowly, “is a phenomenon formed entirely from your fate, your destiny, and your luck. That colossal thing in the sky… that’s yours.”

Max froze.

His gaze snapped back to the giant black statue that loomed like a god of silence above the land. The stars it pierced were no illusion. Its presence was suffocating. And now, hearing Blob’s words, a cold shiver ran down his spine.

“That thing… came from me?” Max muttered, stunned.

He believed in fate—somewhat. He thought destiny was something you could bend with willpower. And luck? He’d always assumed that was just chaos in disguise. But this… this was something different. Tangible. Towering. Real.

Seeing the doubt and confusion in Max’s eyes, Blob let out a faint, knowing chuckle. His gaze shifted toward the massive statue reaching into the heavens.

“Fate, destiny, and luck,” Blob said softly, “are real, whether you believe in them or not. But they’re not things you can touch. Not usually. They work behind the scenes—subtle, invisible. Guiding, pushing, twisting. But in incredibly rare cases… they act directly. And the only way they can do that is through Manifestation.”

He gestured toward the statue with a lazy flick of his round arm. “That… is yours.”

Max remained quiet, trying to process it all. A force composed of things he’d never been able to see, now standing before him in the form of a star-shattering entity. Even with everything he had been through—even after dying and being reborn—this felt unreal.

“But…” Max finally asked, the biggest question still lingering in his mind, “you said Manifestations rarely interfere in someone’s life. So why is it here now? Why mine?”

Blob didn’t answer right away.

He stared at the statue for a few seconds longer, then offered Max a crooked smile. “I don’t know. Maybe something’s changed. Maybe something’s coming. Whatever the reason, we’ll have to wait and see. Fate doesn’t exactly hand out explanations.”

Max scowled, his instincts buzzing with discomfort.

Fate. Destiny. Luck. They weren’t things he liked to rely on. And now they were standing right in front of him—literally.

Something about it didn’t feel right.

And the way that statue just stood there, unmoving yet oppressive, made it feel less like a blessing and more like a warning.

It looked like it had stepped straight out of some ancient fairy tale or myth.

But this was no story. This was real.

At the very moment the black colossus appeared in the sky, the entirety of the Mourning Depths was shaken—not by quakes or explosions, but by sheer presence.

Every single person, no matter where they were—whether hidden in tunnels, scaling cliffs, or fighting for their lives—froze. Their instincts screamed. Their skin crawled. And all eyes turned to the impossibly large statue that now pierced through the heavens like a blade of doom.

Shock spread like wildfire.

They had no idea what it was. No warning. No explanation.

Unlike Max, who at least had Blob whispering truths into his ears, the rest were left with only fear and their own imagination.

Some dropped their weapons. Others fell to their knees. Most just stared, wide-eyed and silent, trying to make sense of what they were seeing.

—

“Grey… Tell me you also see this?!” Amara’s voice trembled as she pointed a shaking finger at the towering black giant. Her face was pale, lips slightly parted in disbelief.

Old Man Grey stood beside her, his aged face locked in a stunned expression. “I… I…” he stammered, but no words came. For the first time in decades, he was speechless.

A man who had survived countless life-and-death trials. A leader of elite squads. A veteran of the Divine Palace.

And now… all he could do was stare.

Over thousands of years, the Divine Palace had documented countless anomalies, disasters, and phenomena. But never—never—had there been any record of a giant statue suddenly appearing in the skies of the Mourning Depths.

It was too surreal. Too unnatural.

Even Callie, whose knowledge as a high-ranking member of the Black Lotus Guild far surpassed most others, had a grim look on her face. If even she couldn’t place it, then it truly didn’t belong to any known realm of knowledge.

—

Not far from them, another group of geniuses gathered. They, too, were staring at the monolithic figure, some frozen in awe, others on the verge of panic.

Among them were familiar faces—people Max would recognize instantly.

Jack’s voice cracked as he spoke, his lips dry. “What in the world is that?”

“Is it… an infernal being?” Anton muttered, his brows furrowed, face darkening with unease.

“I don’t think so,” Crown Prince said quietly, his gaze sharp. He turned toward the middle-aged man standing beside them—their official guide from the Divine Palace. “You. What is this thing?”

The man hesitated.

Then shook his head.

“I… don’t know,” he admitted grimly. “There is no mention of such a being, statue, or creature in any of the recorded history of the Mourning Depths.”

That answer made everyone tense.

Aelric narrowed his eyes. So far, no matter how dangerous their path had been, the guide had always known something—some detail, some ancient warning to fall back on. But now?

He was as clueless as they were.

“Maybe… maybe it’s not dangerous?” Alice whispered, her voice barely audible, eyes wide as she watched the unmoving statue. It didn’t attack. It didn’t move. It just stood there, like a dark monument to the unknown.

But the middle-aged man turned to her slowly. His expression was heavy, eyes clouded with the weight of experience.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned from all my years in the Mourning Depths,” he said, voice low, “it’s this—the things you can’t explain… are the ones most likely to kill you.”

He glanced back at the statue.

“And when those things show up… your chances of dying spike higher than anything else.”

His words sank into their bones like ice water.

The group went quiet. Pale faces, clenched jaws, stiffened limbs.

But none of them panicked. Not yet.

Because despite everything—despite its overwhelming size and ominous aura—the giant still hadn’t moved.

It just stood there.

Watching. Waiting.

And that silence was perhaps the most terrifying part of all.