---
title: "Chapter 1017: A Little Talk with Lyra"
slug: "ch-1023"
novel: "Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100"
number: 1023
views: 0
likes: 0
wordCount: 1049
createdAt: "2026-04-15"
---

Her words echoed in the chamber like a lecture from history itself, heavy with reason and warning. She pressed on.

"This is why even those geniuses who reach Mythic Rank young—some in their eighties or nineties, which is already considered remarkable—don’t rush. They take centuries. Many only attempt to step into Divine Rank when they’re six or seven hundred years old. Some wait until they’ve lived a full thousand years. Because they know—one mistake at that stage means eternal damnation."

Her voice dropped lower, and her eyes darkened. "And those two twin demons... they’ve been at the peak of Mythic Rank for over a thousand years. Waiting. Accumulating power. Do you understand now? If you rush toward them recklessly, you won’t be avenging anyone—you’ll just be throwing your life away."

Max’s lips curled into a bitter laugh. It wasn’t amusement. It was scorn. "So according to you, I should sit quietly. Train obediently for thousands of years. Pretend like nothing happened. Pretend like the ones I cared about weren’t butchered in front of me. That’s what you expect me to do?" He leaned forward, his voice like ice cracking across the floor. "This is bullshit."

The infernal energy around him flared suddenly, the red glow of the cubic prison flickering against his aura. His eyes burned brighter, stabbing straight into Lyra’s. "These demons killed everyone I cared about in this damned world. And you—" he jabbed a finger toward her without standing, "you want me to wait, to ’train’ like some obedient child? Do you even believe the words coming out of your mouth?"

His laugh turned sharp and cold. "And don’t talk to me about doubting my strength. None of you—none of you—understand a damn thing about it."

He rose to his feet now, infernal flames licking faintly around his form, casting sharp shadows against the walls. "Lady Divine—she knows how to cure her." His gaze slid to Lenavira’s still body on the bed, his voice turning razor-edged with fury. "She knows how to remove the curse. She knows how to wake her. But her answer? That it wasn’t the right time. That the current situation didn’t allow it.

His aura surged violently, pressing against the runes of the cubic prison until they trembled. "And what do you think that means?"

The air turned heavy. Lyra’s eyes widened, her breath caught. She stumbled a step back, shaken not only by the fury in Max’s words but by the storm of infernal power that shook the very room.

"I... I didn’t know," she whispered, her voice breaking. Her face went pale, shock flashing in her eyes as she stared at Lenavira’s unconscious figure. "I truly... didn’t know about this."

"She wants to control me using Lenavira as leverage." Max’s voice was low but it carried the weight of thunder. His eyes glowed an even deeper crimson, and the infernal aura around him pulsed violently against the red runes of the prison cube. "She knows I would do anything to save her. Anything. And now she’s using that to restrain me."

His lips curled into a bitter smile, the kind that made the air itself feel heavy. "And the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Looking at the current situation, I can’t help but feel that it was her all along. That she was the one who forced Lenavira into this cursed state. That it was her who pushed her into the dark self."

His laughter was cold, humorless, echoing against the walls like a blade dragged across stone. "The answer was right in front of me this whole time. And yet, like a fool, I kept asking why the Ascendants suddenly decided to come after me. Why they suddenly seemed so intent on breaking me." His fists clenched. "First she drives Lenavira into this nightmare... then she plays the role of a savior, offering her help, wrapping it all in her holy words, just so she can keep her eyes on me. Just so she can tighten the leash."

Max’s gaze snapped back toward the door, his voice sharpening. "If this is what you call protecting me, then I don’t need it. Not if the cost is my friends. Not if it means watching them suffer just to keep me in chains."

Princess Lyra flinched. She had thought she was prepared for Max’s anger, but the raw pain laced in his words cut deeper than any blade. Her lips trembled, yet no words came out. She wanted to refute him, to say Lady Divine would never stoop so low. But under Max’s glare, the conviction in her heart felt brittle. Doubt seeped in where certainty had once lived.

"If you truly see me as a friend," Max said at last, his tone softer but infinitely heavier, "then save Lenavira first. That’s all I want." He sighed, a sound filled with exhaustion rather than surrender.

Lyra swallowed hard. Then her eyes hardened with resolve. "I will go and ask Lady Divine about this myself." Her words were firm, but her voice betrayed the weight she carried. Without giving Max a chance to reply, she turned and hurried out of the room, her footsteps fading quickly into the silence.

The moment the door shut, the atmosphere inside the prison chamber shifted. A suffocating tension spread across the air, thick enough to choke. The red glow of the cubic runes flickered with Max’s unstable aura, each pulse sharper than the last.

For a long time, no one spoke. Then, Blob’s voice broke the silence. "You know... Lenavira was already in her dark elf state before you ever revealed your potential to the world." His tone was steady, but there was a trace of quiet concern beneath it.

Max tilted his head, crimson light reflecting in his cold eyes. He gave a slight shrug, his expression dark and indifferent. "I don’t care. What I know is simple—she has the means to help Lenavira, yet she chooses not to. That alone makes her my enemy." His voice hardened, each word carrying the weight of an oath. "And I have no doubt she intends to use Lenavira as a bargaining chip. A chain to control me."

The flames around him flared again, the runes of the prison groaning under the pressure.