Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 - Chapter 399

Chapter 399: Towards the Ancestral Hall
Max stood still, eyes moving from the cold, sharp spears pointed at him to the middle-aged elf who had just threatened to imprison him forever.

‘Should I just make a run for it?’ he thought, his muscles tensing, ready to activate Blink Dash and disappear into the dying forest.

But just as he prepared to move, his Three Dimensional Body detected something—movement in the distance. His vision slowed, focusing in, and he saw a group of elves approaching swiftly from between the trees.

Leading them at the front, with a confident, composed stride, was none other than Princess Lenavira. Max’s body relaxed slightly, his shoulders easing. ‘Finally,’ he thought.

“I brought this human,” Princess Lenavira said firmly as she stepped onto the teleportation platform. Her tone held no doubt, only sharp authority that immediately shifted the mood around them.

The middle-aged elf, now identified as Fugen, turned toward her, his eyes narrowing. He looked between Max and the princess with open disdain. Then a sneer crept onto his face. “You truly believe he’s Freya’s brother?” he asked mockingly. “Look at him—pink eyes, white hair. He’s the complete opposite of Freya’s black hair and ocean blue eyes. Even his strength doesn’t compare to hers.” His words dripped with contempt, clearly unimpressed.

Max’s brow furrowed. He didn’t care about the comparison, but the tone irritated him. He opened his mouth to speak, but Lenavira cut in coldly.

“We’ll know once he’s taken to the Ancestral Hall,” she said flatly, her voice steely and absolute.

Fugen’s expression darkened. “And if he turns out not to be her brother, I will slit his throat myself,” he said without hesitation, the threat clear.

“That won’t happen,” Lenavira replied coolly.

“I hope so,” Fugen said, stepping back. With a wave of his hand, the elven guards surrounding Max slowly lowered their weapons and backed off, their glares lingering but their threat fading.

“Let’s go, Max,” Lenavira said, her wings of mana spreading as she gently lifted into the air, flying toward a distant part of the kingdom.

Max exhaled softly, gave one last look at the now-silent Fugen, and took off after her. The elves behind them followed without a word, gliding through the rotting forest as they made their way toward whatever truth awaited in the Ancestral Hall.

As Max flew behind Princess Lenavira, weaving through the dense, towering trees of the elven forest, he couldn’t help but be amazed by what he saw. The entire elven civilization was built seamlessly within the forest, not disturbing nature but blending with it in a way that felt both ancient and advanced.

Giant trees held entire cities high in their branches—homes and buildings made of carved wood and glowing crystals, connected by rope bridges, spiral staircases, and floating platforms. The architecture was elegant, almost dreamlike, with buildings shaped like blooming flowers or rising vines, their walls alive with soft lights that pulsed gently like breathing.

Below them, through the canopy, Max saw parks tucked between clusters of trees, where elven children ran barefoot on moss-covered paths, chasing each other with bursts of wind magic and laughter that echoed gently through the fading woods.

He saw gardens filled with exotic plants glowing faintly, tended to by elder elves who moved slowly, their faces serene. Small marketplaces hung between tree trunks where merchants sold herbs, weapons, scrolls, and glowing fruits from stalls carved into the bark. But they were also in the brink of withering away.

Waterfalls trickled down from cliffs into crystal-clear pools, and light bridges formed from mana stretched across gaps in the forest floor.

It was a world unlike anything Max had seen before—peaceful, natural, and beautifully alive, despite the signs of decay quietly creeping in. The rot was there—subtle but visible in the dried leaves, the pale bark of once-strong trees, and the lack of birdsong—but still, the elves continued to live with grace and balance, holding onto their fading paradise.

As Max soared deeper into this world, he felt like he was flying through the last breath of a dying miracle.

‘Damn, this has to be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,’ Max thought, his eyes practically sparkling like stars as he looked around in awe.

Every new glimpse of the Sylvaria Kingdom revealed something more breathtaking than the last—the way the buildings curved with the trees, the glowing lights woven into the branches, the children’s laughter floating on the wind. It all felt like something out of a storybook, unreal yet somehow alive.

Princess Lenavira turned her head slightly and caught the look on his face. A smug sneer tugged at the corner of her lips. “What? Never seen anything like this before?”

Max didn’t hide his reaction. He nodded honestly. “Yeah… everything about this place is really beautiful.”

“Huh,” she huffed lightly, lifting her chin. “You’re only the fifth human to ever step into Sylvaria Kingdom,” she said, clearly proud of that fact.

“Oh.” Max blinked, the weight of that statement sinking in. It made sense now—why everyone had stared at him like a foreign creature, why the guards were so aggressive. The elves were deeply reclusive, protective of their land, their culture, and their people.

‘I guess that’s actually smart,’ Max thought. ‘Humans are always full of greed. They’d tear a place like this apart just for its beauty.’

They continued flying for another five minutes, the trees growing taller and more ancient the deeper they went. Finally, they arrived before an enormous structure that seemed to be carved directly into a mountain-sized tree. It was a massive hall, its entrance grand and awe-inspiring, surrounded by glowing runes and thick vines that shimmered faintly with mana.

The air felt heavier here—older, sacred.

At the entrance stood several elven guards, each radiating powerful auras. Max could immediately sense it—Expert Rank, without a doubt. They stood tall, weapons in hand, watching silently as Princess Lenavira and her group landed gently before them.

‘Damn Expert Rank elves are used as a guard here?’ He was shocked lightly seeing that.

Max landed beside her, his boots pressing into the mossy stone as the elves behind them followed suit. A moment later, another group descended—this time led by Fugen, whose expression remained stern and unreadable as his warriors touched down behind Max’s group.

The atmosphere thickened, and Max could feel it—whatever lay ahead in that grand hall was no small matter.

“What now?” Max asked, looking around at the towering entrance of the grand hall and noticing that no one was moving. Despite having arrived, they weren’t entering, and everyone just stood silently, waiting.

“We wait,” Princess Lenavira said calmly, her voice composed as always.

Max sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced at her. “By the way, where did you disappear to just now? I was nearly turned into a wanted man the moment I arrived. Your people were ready to skewer me on the spot.”

Princess Lenavira crossed her arms, lifting her chin slightly. “I am of Royal Bloodline, so of course I was teleported directly to the Royal Palace, unlike a certain someone,” she said, her tone proud—but the last words came with a bite of disdain.

‘Her arrogance will one day kill me,’ Max thought, sighing again as he glanced away, deciding not to bother arguing with her.