Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 - Chapter 319

Chapter 319: Wraith of the World
However, amidst the confusion and fear spreading across the Mourning Depths, there was one group who truly grasped the magnitude of what they were seeing.

Deep within the heart of the Mourning Depths—far beyond where most dared to tread—stood a gathering of ten to fifteen figures, each cloaked in power and authority. They weren’t adventurers or explorers. These were leaders. The heads of regions, clans, and powerful organizations from across the Valora Continent. The kind of people whose decisions shaped the fate of nations.

All of them stood still, their gazes locked onto the colossal statue towering high above, touching the very stars themselves.

“…Am I seeing this right?” one of the leaders muttered, voice low and disbelieving. “That thing… it reaches beyond the sky.”

“This,” said a calm, regal voice, “is indeed a Manifestation.”

It was King Magnar, his golden hair flowing gently behind him as if the very air respected his presence.

“But…” he added, eyes narrowing. “I’ve never heard of anyone—man, beast, or god—who could force their Manifestation into the real world.”

Envoy Lucas, a man draped in deep violet robes marked with celestial runes, gave a slow nod. “At least in the Lower Domain, no one’s ever done it.”

A tense silence settled over the group.

“Then…” King Magnar asked the question they were all thinking. “Whose Manifestation is this?”

Brows furrowed. Lips tightened. No one answered immediately.

And then—

A scoff.

“Isn’t it obvious?” A mocking voice rang out.

Azula, draped in red, her silver eyes gleaming with amusement, stepped forward with a sneer curling her lips. “There’s only one monster here who could make even fate flinch.”

“…Max.”

Her voice echoed in the air like a crack of lightning.

“He’s not normal. Not even close,” she continued, tone sharp. “Have you seen what he’s capable of? He defeated peak Adept Rank cultivators… while he himself hadn’t even reached the peak of Apprentice Rank.”

She spread her arms slightly. “Have any of you ever seen a battle power that absurd?”

King Magnar pursed his lips. He had thought of Max. The idea had crossed his mind the instant the Manifestation appeared. But even so, logic kept him from jumping to conclusions.

“According to records from the Middle Domain,” he said carefully, “Manifestations sometimes appear during a breakthrough to a higher rank… but only when that rank reaches a truly significant threshold. Not during a transition from Apprentice to Adept.”

He looked around at the others. “And Max? Even if he just broke through, it would only place him at the first level of Adept Rank. That shouldn’t be enough to summon something this… colossal.”

Azula shrugged, unfazed. “You’re thinking too small. Rules break when someone like him is involved.”

Her eyes sparkled as she gazed at the behemoth in the sky. “I’d bet my name on it. No one else in the Lower Domain could ever do something like this. Only Max.”

Her words silenced the group once again.

They turned their eyes back to the monolithic figure—its presence growing more oppressive by the second. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and the already treacherous aura of the Mourning Depths seemed to twist further under the weight of the unknown.

And through it all, the behemoth simply stood—watching, waiting, unmoving—its arrival a signal that something had changed.

Something deep. Something irreversible.

And none of them had any idea what would happen next.

But then, something happened—something so shocking it left even the most powerful leaders of the Valora Continent frozen in disbelief.

Above the colossal black statue, a swirl of darkness took shape.

Black clouds.

They formed out of nowhere, roaring into existence without warning, like a curse summoned by the universe itself. The stars—those distant, ancient lights—moved aside, as if fleeing from whatever was coming. Even the skies of the Mourning Depths, warped as they already were, seemed to recoil.

And then, crawling across the surface of the clouds, lightning began to slither.

Not ordinary lightning.

Seven-colored bolts twisted and danced through the dark mass like restless serpents, their glow shifting through violet, gold, crimson, blue, silver, green, and white. Each crackled with terrifying power, as if they were waiting… watching… poised to descend.

“This… This is…” King Magnar’s voice faltered. For once, the man who had led armies and defied calamities… had no words.

And before he could finish the sentence—

RUMBLE!!!

A deafening roar shattered the silence as a massive bolt of violet lightning shot down from the clouds.

BOOM!

The bolt struck the giant statue directly in the chest.

The impact was cataclysmic. The earth trembled. The heavens howled. The shockwave rippled across the skies and tore through the atmosphere like the wrath of a god.

Max’s eyes went wide as he watched from below.

“What the hell?!” he shouted, completely flabbergasted.

His Manifestation—this towering construct of fate, destiny, and luck—had appeared out of nowhere. And now, it was being struck by divine lightning?

He couldn’t even process it.

“I know what’s happening,” came a sudden, grave voice.

Max turned. Blob hovered beside him, unusually solemn, his soft features tense. His beady eyes stared straight at the storm above.

“I understand now,” Blob said. “Why your Manifestation appeared. Why the lightning is striking it. It all makes sense.”

Max blinked. “Well? Spit it out.”

Blob exhaled. A ghost of a smile curved on his gelatinous face.

“You’ve triggered the Wrath of the World.”

“…I did what?” Max asked, dumbfounded.

Blob nodded slowly. “Whether it’s your absurd combat ability, or that new physique you just awakened, or maybe your complete bodily transformation—it doesn’t matter. Whatever the cause, you’ve drawn the attention of the world itself. And it’s not happy.”

Max frowned. “Wait, what do you mean by wrath of the world?”

Blob turned to him, gaze grave.

“This world is governed by laws—ancient, inviolable laws. And those laws are maintained by something greater than us all… the Will of the World.”

He floated closer.

“Do you really think dungeons just appear out of nowhere? That blessings and curses happen by chance? No. This world is alive, Max. It watches. It judges. And when someone defies its balance, when they break the order… the world punishes them.”

Max ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “But I didn’t do anything. I just followed the instructions to awaken my physique by the system!”

Blob’s expression didn’t change. “Intent doesn’t matter. You’ve broken the balance. Somehow, your existence is a threat to the world’s design.”

He paused, then added softly, “My master once told me… the unluckiest people in the world are the ones who face the Wrath of the World before their time.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “Before their time?”

Blob nodded. “This kind of divine punishment is usually reserved for individuals at the Legend Rank or higher. People so powerful, so world-altering, they can bend fate itself. And yet, here you are—not even at the peak of Adept Rank—facing something meant for legends.”

He looked Max dead in the eye. “Which means one of two things: either you’re the most unlucky soul to walk this continent… or you’ve done something so monumental, so unnatural, that even the world itself couldn’t ignore it.”

And above them, another bolt of lightning stirred.

Crackling, coiling, ready to fall.