Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 - Chapter 385

Chapter 385: Dimension of Lightning
As Aelric suggested, Max decided to rent a room within the tower city. After browsing through the available options, he settled on a modest yet private dwelling tucked away in one of the quieter sections of the district. The cost was steep—30 points of Life Essence, deducted directly from his Essence Stone.

He glanced down at the stone after the transaction was complete.

70 points remaining.

He’d need to start fighting again soon if he wanted to maintain resources. The system here was ruthless—everything was built on battle and victory.

After the arrangements were done, Aelric turned to him with a nod. “I have to go,” he said. “I’ll let the others know you’re here. And… well, I’ve got a few personal matters to handle.”

Max nodded, understanding. “Also,” he added before Aelric could leave, “see if you can dig up some information about the elves. Ask the others too—anything they know, especially about Lenavira.” He asked in vital essence sound transmission.

Aelric gave a knowing look. “Still don’t trust her?”

“Not even close.”

With that, the Crown Prince departed, disappearing into the crowd with a graceful stride befitting royalty.

Max exhaled, finally thinking he’d have a moment of peace.

But that was short-lived.

Because not long after, Princess Lenavira made her intentions clear.

She wasn’t leaving.

Without even asking—or giving Max the chance to object—she selected a room directly beside his and paid the Life Essence cost without hesitation.

Max stared at her, speechless for a moment.

“You’re renting a room next to mine?” he asked, brows raised.

She gave him a serene, almost innocent look. “Naturally. I said I would follow you until I earned your trust. This seems like the most logical step.”

Max sighed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation.

‘Why is everything with elves always so complicated?’

Now, not only did he have to figure out the Tower of Truth and the problem of Yin Soul—he also had an elf princess living next door, silently observing his every move.

“Great,” he muttered under his breath. “Just what I needed.”

Max shook his head with a quiet sigh as he stepped into his room and closed the door behind him. He made sure to lock it tightly—twice.

The room was simple, bordering on bare.

A single bed with rough linen sheets sat in one corner, beside a sturdy wooden table scarred with marks from previous tenants. There were no windows, no decorations, no signs of comfort. Just the basics. Functional. Efficient. Lifeless.

Max walked across the room, sat on the edge of the bed, and glanced around.

‘Everything is costly here,’ he thought.

He’d quickly learned that if someone wanted to train in the tower city, they couldn’t do it here—not in these residential rooms. For that, they had to rent a dedicated training chamber within the Tower of Truth itself. And those didn’t come cheap.

In fact, training chambers were far more expensive than the rooms. And the higher the floor, the more outrageous the cost. It was clear—this place was designed to reward only those who kept climbing, kept fighting, kept winning. Rest was a luxury. Progress was currency.

Max leaned back slightly, his eyes drifting toward the ceiling.

Another thing had caught his attention—the city’s architecture, its atmosphere.

There wasn’t a single hint of modern technology anywhere.

No lights powered by energy cores. No flying ships humming overhead. No transmission coverage or communication network commonly found in the cities of the Valora Continent. This led to their holowatch completely useless in the city.

Everything here was ancient. Stone pathways. Manual torches for lighting. Even the city’s defense runes were hidden beneath old rune engravings carved deep into the walls.

It felt like stepping into a preserved memory of a world long gone.

‘This whole city… it must’ve been built during the ancient era,’ Max thought. ‘Probably when the Tower of Truth first rose from the ground. And they’ve kept it exactly the same ever since.’

It wasn’t just a place to live.

It was a relic.

A battleground disguised as a city.

‘First thing first,’ Max thought, taking a steady breath as he stood up from the edge of the bed.

He walked over and sat back down, this time cross-legged, his back straight, eyes gently closing.

Within moments, his consciousness slipped away from the physical world, diving inward—deeper and deeper—until it reached that familiar cloud-covered realm that existed solely within his soul. The World of Cloud.

Four doors stood suspended in the misty void, each one leading to different dimensions—flame, time, spirit and lightning.

His eyes moved across them until they stopped on the door crackling faintly with electric sparks. The Dimension of Lightning.

He stepped toward it.

The door opened without resistance, and Max entered.

The moment he crossed the threshold, a colossal pressure slammed into him like a divine hand.

His knees bent slightly under the sheer weight of it. His breath hitched. It wasn’t just spiritual pressure—it was ancient, boundless, primordial. The kind of pressure that made the soul itself instinctively want to kneel.

But then, as quickly as it came, it dissipated.

A golden shimmer flickered around Max’s body—the silent activation of the title of Aura of the Primordial, suppressing the overwhelming force like a tidal wave stopped mid-crash.

Max straightened, exhaling slowly.

Then he saw it.

His eyes widened, his entire body freezing for a heartbeat.

Floating in the endless black space of the Dimension of Lightning were seven colossal dragons, each formed from a different hue of lightning—red, blue, indigo, green, violet, yellow, and orange. Their long, serpentine bodies coiled through the void like celestial guardians.

And they weren’t wild.

They weren’t thrashing or roaring.

They were calm.

Deadly… but calm.

The seven dragons floated in perfect circles, orbiting around a stone altar suspended in the center of the dimension. Their movement was precise, synchronized, as if bound by some unseen force emanating from the altar itself.

Max could feel it now.

The altar wasn’t just a piece of stone—it was alive. A core. A conductor. A source of ancient command that held the dragons in line, as though it had tamed their wrath and harnessed their essence.

The sight was majestic.

Terrifying.

And strangely… familiar.