---
title: "Chapter 780: Arrival of Other Forces"
slug: "ch-786"
novel: "Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100"
number: 786
views: 0
likes: 0
wordCount: 1045
createdAt: "2026-04-15"
---

Before anyone else could ascend the stairs, an oppressive aura, sharp and unbridled as a blade drawn across steel, spilled into the Hourglass Restaurant’s third floor like a wave crashing upon the shore.

Max, seated calmly beside Gayle and Rose, felt that surge of pressure sweep over him, rattling the tea cups on the table and making the very air seem taut and thin. His eyes narrowed, a flicker of recognition dancing through his mind as he tasted that familiar, icy edge of power.

’Mountain Gods Valley,’ he thought to himself, his senses bristling in silent alert.

Within just a few breaths, the owner of that ferocious presence emerged into sight. A figure stepped onto the landing, his stride measured yet brimming with ferocious confidence.

He wore the signature silver robes of Mountain Gods Valley, embroidered with faintly glowing threads that shimmered like etched runes under the lantern light. The insignia on his chest bore three jagged mountain peaks—a clear mark of a 3-star genius.

The man was tall, his frame lean and taut with wiry muscle. His face was angular, handsome in a cold, severe way, with eyes as piercing as frosted steel. The aura rolling off him was so sharp and oppressive that it seemed to slice into the skin, leaving a faint stinging sensation in the flesh and a chill crawling down the spine.

His mere presence seemed to darken the room, the laughter and quiet murmurs in the restaurant fading to uneasy silence.

Max’s frown deepened as he silently measured the newcomer. The force radiating from this man felt even more terrifying than Derek’s, despite both of them being at the 1st level of the Legend Realm.

Where Derek’s power was like a blazing inferno, brash and consuming, this man’s aura was cold, precise, and honed like a sword that had been sharpened a thousand times.

"Scott Haynes, are you alone?" Derek suddenly called out from his table, his voice echoing across the hush that had fallen over the room.

He lifted his chin slightly, eyes narrowing with both fear and curiosity. He knew the name well. Among the Mountain Gods Valley, Scott Haynes was a name whispered in both admiration and fear—a prodigy whose strength could silence even other known geniuses.

Scott’s lips curled into a thin, contemptuous smile, his eyes sweeping the room as though none of those present were worthy of his notice. "One person is enough," he said flatly, his voice as cold and cutting as the aura surrounding him.

Derek let out a humorless laugh, though his gaze held a flicker of wariness. "I hope you won’t regret it then," he said, a hint of challenge in his tone.

He knew that while individual strength was valuable, sheer numbers often proved decisive when venturing into perilous places like the rumored cemetery. If time hadn’t been pressing, Derek himself would have gathered more allies rather than relying solely on his own companions.

Scott merely smirked, giving a single dismissive flick of his fingers as if swatting away an annoying insect. He said nothing further, his posture radiating supreme confidence, as though he alone could conquer any danger the world might throw at him.

Time seemed to stretch thin under the weight of their collective presence. Conversations resumed only in hushed murmurs, every warrior on the floor aware that three of the Middle Domain’s top forces were now represented in this single room—and the tension thrummed through the floorboards like an unstruck gong.

More than half an hour ticked by, each minute thick with anticipation, as all eyes occasionally flickered to the stairs, waiting for the last group to appear and complete the deadly puzzle forming in the Hourglass Restaurant.

A simmering tension pulsed through the room as Derek, unable to hide the growing impatience in his voice, slammed his teacup back onto the table so hard that liquid sloshed over the rim.

His eyes, narrowed with frustration, flicked toward the staircase as he growled, "The members of the Void Soul Tower and Thunder Monarch Hall are too arrogant! We agreed to meet in the morning, but it’s almost noon now." His words hung in the air, sharp and brittle, drawing the attention of every person seated on the third floor.

But before the silence could settle, a haughty, drawling voice floated up from the floor below, dripping with disdain. "The member of the Eternal Sun Guild is restless and irritable. It seems that there is no future for him."

The voice was so casual, so utterly condescending, that even the ambient chatter in the restaurant seemed to choke off, replaced by an electric crackle of anticipation.𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

Derek’s face turned beet red with rage, his fists clenching at his sides until his knuckles went pale. His chest heaved, and his lips parted as though he might unleash a furious retort—but the words died in his throat.

For a long, quivering moment, Derek seemed ready to leap up and charge down the stairs, but then, with visible effort, he forced himself back into his chair. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he swallowed his pride, aware that of all the seven overlord forces, the Void Soul Tower was one he could least afford to provoke without careful thought.

Besides, as much as it galled him, he knew he’d been the first to break the decorum by openly complaining. For now, he could only swallow his fury like a mouthful of vinegar.

Then, as though summoned by the mere mention of their name, an unfamiliar aura drifted up the staircase. It was a peculiar presence—light yet dense, cool and refreshing yet carrying a hidden sharpness, reminiscent of deep ancient forests shrouded in eternal twilight.

The scent was faint but carried the crisp note of moss and leaves, as though the man approaching carried a piece of some primordial woodland around him.

A moment later, a young man emerged onto the third floor, stepping into view with deliberate grace. He was older than most of those already seated, his features refined and marked with faint lines of age and experience, putting him somewhere in his mid- to late-thirties.

His dark hair fell smoothly around a face carved with elegant symmetry, and his eyes glimmered like polished onyx, cold and appraising.