---
title: "Chapter 1327: Legacy of the Forgotten God"
slug: "ch-1334"
novel: "Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100"
number: 1334
views: 0
likes: 0
wordCount: 1397
createdAt: "2026-04-15"
---

"Is he dead?" Max asked quietly as his figure drifted closer to Lucien, his gaze fixed on the corrupted crown that hovered in the empty air.

The battle was over, yet the weight of it still pressed heavily on his chest, making it difficult to breathe as if the world itself had not yet realized that its god was gone.

"He is dead," Lucien replied after a brief silence, finally turning his eyes toward Max.

There was no triumph in his voice, only certainty, the kind that came from witnessing something irreversible. Mark was gone, erased beyond return, and even the laws of this world would not remember him again.

"Good," Max said softly, nodding in relief.

At that moment, the terrifying aura surrounding him began to collapse. The Infernal Demon Transformation dispersed into faint crimson motes, while the golden radiance of the Heavenly Luminance Royal Bloodline peeled away from his body like fading light.

His strength left him all at once, not gradually, and the sudden emptiness made his vision blur as his body lost balance and began to fall.

Freya moved instantly and caught him before he could hit the ground, her arms steady as she supported his weight. She looked down at him with concern etched clearly across her face. "Are you alright?" she asked softly, her voice carrying a rare gentleness that she reserved only for moments like this.

"I am fine," Max replied, forcing a weak smile as he leaned against her. "Just a little tired and exhausted."

His words were understated, because the truth was far harsher. This exhaustion was unlike anything he had experienced before. In past battles, even prolonged wars had barely drained him, yet this fight had consumed him completely. Every reserve of power he possessed had been pushed beyond its limit, and maintaining multiple fifth level concepts at once had taken a toll that his body could not easily recover from.

Freya studied him for a moment before speaking again, her expression turning serious. "The last attack you used," she said slowly, "I sensed something different in it. For a brief moment, it felt like the shadow of a Cosmic Path."

Max nodded weakly, his eyes half closed as the memories of that moment surfaced again. "I knew that to sever the connection between Mark and the crown, I needed a power that could cut causality itself," he said quietly. "So in that instant, I comprehended the direction of my sword’s Cosmic Path. It was incomplete and fragile, but it was enough."

He did not say anything more.

He did not tell her what he had seen through the eyes of his clone, nor did he describe the future where he failed to take that step. In that ending, the erasure consumed everything. He died. Freya died. Lucien died. The Life Space Rings shattered into dust, and with them vanished the countless lives of Acaris, erased without even realizing what had happened.

It was a devastating ending.

And because he had seen it, Max understood just how close they had come to absolute annihilation.

"You are very reckless, you know that?" Freya said as she looked at Max solemnly, her gaze heavy with emotions that she did not bother to hide. There was no anger in her voice, only lingering fear and relief tangled together, the kind that surfaced only after surviving something that should never have been survived in the first place.

"What do you mean by that?" Max asked, tilting his head slightly as he looked at her, genuinely confused by her words. From his perspective, everything had gone exactly as it needed to go, and he had done what was required of him.

"A mortal body, no matter how strong, should have exploded into bits of flesh and blood the moment it tried to use the power of a Cosmic Path, even if only for an instant," Freya said slowly, her tone grave. "The power of a Cosmic Path is meant only for beings of the Divine Realm, and without ascending and passing through the ten stages of the Rebirth Realm, one’s body should not be able to endure it. The fact that you used it and are still standing here is nothing short of a miracle."

She paused for a moment, then looked at him directly. "It is lucky that nothing happened to you."

Max smiled lightly at her words, a calm and almost carefree expression on his face. Of course nothing would have happened to him. His body had already been tempered beyond what most mortals could imagine by the Giant Dwarves, and the opening of the first of the Seven Divine Veins, the Vein of Origin, had elevated his physical foundation to a terrifying level.

On top of that, the countless Dragon Scales covering his body and the Draconic Essences circulating within him had been continuously repairing and reinforcing him from the inside, making his body far sturdier than what Freya was imagining.

"Why are you smiling?" Freya asked, frowning as she looked at him, her expression complicated. "If something had happened to you back there, do you even realize what kind of ending this world would have faced?"

"I am fine," Max replied gently, his smile softening as he met her eyes. "And that is all that matters."

As he said that, his gaze shifted toward the corrupted crown that still floated quietly in the air, its surface pulsing faintly with dark red light, as if it were breathing. Even without Mark, the crown itself radiated an oppressive presence that made the surrounding space feel heavy.

"What should we do about this?" Max asked, looking between Freya and Lucien. His voice was calm, but the question carried weight. This crown had already destroyed one world’s balance once. He could not afford to make a careless decision now.

Lucien shrugged lightly, adjusting the gaming goggles resting on his face. "I have no idea," he said honestly. "Crownbearers and their crowns are not something I have deep knowledge about. As far as I am concerned, this thing is as foreign as it is dangerous."

"If it were not corrupted, we could have used the crown on one of the beings of Acaris," Freya said after a moment, her brows knitting together. "Perhaps someone could have inherited it and used its divine authority to expel the Devouring Spirit from this world. But in its current state, this crown is the most evil object in the entire mortal realm."

Max frowned slightly as he listened. He intended to ascend to the Divine Realm after this, and once he left, he would not be able to watch over Acaris anymore. Leaving behind something like this was unacceptable.

If the crown fell into the hands of someone with ambition, hatred, or desperation, there was a very real chance that another Mark would be born, and Max could not allow that to happen.

No matter what path he chose next, the fate of this crown had to be decided here and now.

"Master, you can use this crown." At that moment, Tian’s voice echoed clearly within Max’s mind, calm yet resolute, as if this conclusion had already been reached long ago.

"Me?" Max replied mentally, his thoughts tightening. "I am not a being of this world, and more importantly this crown is corrupted. Using it would only worsen the infernal energy inside my body."

"Master, you are the inheritor of the Dimensional Keeper," Tian answered without hesitation. "You hold the legacy of the Forgotten God. You are meant to do these things."

"The legacy of the Forgotten God?" Max muttered softly, his lips barely moving as something deep within him stirred. In that instant, a faint and ancient memory surfaced from a place he did not know existed.

He saw a vast silhouette standing beyond all boundaries, a being holding the universe, the countless dimensions, and the entirety of existence within a single grasp. Stars, worlds, time, and space all felt insignificant before that figure. The scene was so overwhelming that Max’s thoughts froze, his consciousness utterly captivated by the sheer scale of it.

Only after a few silent seconds did Max finally pull himself back. The vision faded, dissolving into nothingness, yet its presence remained etched into his mind, heavy and unforgettable, as if it had always been a part of him waiting to be remembered.