---
title: "Chapter 475: Absolute Carnage"
slug: "ch-475"
novel: "Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100"
number: 475
views: 0
likes: 0
wordCount: 1103
createdAt: "2026-04-13"
---

Everyone realized hearing him understanding dawned upon them. It was no secret that only Max possessed the twelfth layer Infernal Demon Tattooe so him being able to comprehend a domain didn’t seem that much suprising after knowing the legend of the Infernal Demon Tattooe.

But they were all shocked. They were bound to get shocked. A Domain was a myth, a legend in the Lower Domain so being inside of a domain made their heart trembled no matter how strong they could be.

And all around them, across the scorched field of bones, as undead, demons, elves, and humans alike stood paralyzed by pressure and fear—Max stood alone in the sky, cloaked in living darkness, his infernal wing unfurled, his eyes glowing red like hellfire itself.

"Now," he whispered, and his voice carried across the entire domain like thunder wrapped in silence.

"Let the slaughter begin."

And then... they began to emerge.

From the blood-colored sky, from the cracked and rotting ground, from rivers of molten crimson and shadows too thick to belong to anything living—infernal beings were born.

One after another, they clawed their way out of the red mist, some tearing through invisible veils of energy, others crawling from beneath the blackened earth like cursed children of the world itself.

Their numbers surged in an instant—hundreds of thousands, a tide of writhing, hissing, screeching horrors of all shapes and sizes, forged entirely from pure infernal energy.

They were twisted mockeries of life—grotesque, skinless hounds with gaping maws and claws like serrated blades, towering horned beasts with burning eyes and spines lined with black fire, serpent-like creatures made entirely of smoke and bone that slithered through the sky.

Some flew on tattered wings of dark flesh, some ran like demons unleashed from ancient tombs, others crawled like malformed insects with twitching limbs and cracked skulls. Each one emitted a soundless scream, a howl that shattered the mind, a cry of bloodlust and agony echoing from a place deeper than death.

And all of them—every last one—turned toward one target.

The army of the Monarch.

Before those warriors could even process the horror of the domain, the infernal beasts descended upon them like a divine punishment.

The first wave of soldiers screamed as clawed limbs tore through their Vital Essence shells like paper. Their cries were cut off mid-breath as flames of pure infernal essence wrapped around their bodies and began peeling away their skin. It was slow. Excruciating.

The infernal beings didn’t just kill—they corrupted. Defiled. The soldiers thrashed as their muscles unraveled, as their nerves were singed out of their flesh, as their bones cracked and bent under pressure. Their blood evaporated, sucked into the air like a fine mist, feeding the domain itself.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"HELP ME!—IT’S—IT’S EATING M—"

Dozens. Hundreds. Thousands.

The sounds of agony spread like wildfire across the battlefield. Soldiers abandoned formation, ran for their lives, only to be caught and torn apart slowly.

Those who tried to fight found their weapons crumbling on impact, their energy dissipating into useless sparks. The infernal beings could not be reasoned with. Could not be wounded. They moved like shadows wrapped in fire and hate, and the more blood that was spilled, the more vicious they became.

Within minutes, entire squadrons of the Monarch’s army were reduced to piles of writhing, twitching bones. And even those bones didn’t remain. The infernal beings crushed them beneath their claws, devoured them, or scattered them like dust into the red winds. Flesh was a memory. Armor, faith, discipline—it meant nothing here.

This was Max’s domain.

And in his world, only he decided who lived or died.

By the time the last screams died away, the battlefield where once stood the proud, arrogant army of the Monarch was now a wasteland of bones and ash. Not a single soldier remained. No corpses, no blood, not even the stench of decay. Only dust and silence and a field now home to the infernal tide that had consumed them all.

And above it all, Max remained suspended in the red sky, his face emotionless, his presence absolute.

The army of the Monarch... was no more.

’It’s good for killing an army like this...’ Max thought, his eyes scanning the devastation below him—the battlefield now silent, empty, blanketed in bone dust and lingering infernal mist.

The Domain of Absolute Carnage had done its job. The army of the Monarch, which had once numbered in tens of thousands, was gone. Not defeated. Not scattered. Erased.

But as his gaze lifted and locked onto Drevon, who stood motionless in the red sky like a monarch untouched by the storm, Max understood the limits of what he had just achieved.

The Infernal Demon Domain—as overwhelming and absolute as it was—had no real hold over someone like him. Drevon’s presence alone had resisted the Domain’s corrosive atmosphere, and not a single infernal being had even looked in his direction.

Max had tried. He had willed those wrathful spirits toward the Young Monarch, tried to send even a fraction of his slaughter-bent horde against him. But they didn’t obey. They couldn’t. It wasn’t that Drevon had countered him—it was that the sheer disparity in their strength rendered such an attempt meaningless.

And so, to prevent Drevon from interfering while the massacre unfolded, Max had poured everything into a single gambit: he restrained him. Just for a few seconds.

The full might of his domain twisted and constricted space around Drevon’s position, slowing time just enough to stop him from moving freely. It wasn’t much. It wasn’t even truly control.

But it was enough. Long enough for Max to burn through every last one of the Monarch’s soldiers without the Young Monarch lifting a hand.

He had wanted to taunt him of this. To throw a few words Drevon’s way. Mock him. Let him feel the loss.

But before he could speak, something shifted.

The crimson sky above began to dissolve, like burning parchment curling inward. The blood rivers dried and the blackened, cracked land below faded into haze. One by one, the infernal beings crumbled into smoke. The oppressive pressure in the air vanished like it had never existed. And in the blink of an eye—

—the world snapped back.

Max found himself floating once more in the real world, surrounded by the broken skies and silence of the battlefield. The Domain was gone. His Infernal Demon Transformation had faded. His wing, his glowing tattoo, the aura of the demon inside—all of it had receded back into dormancy.

And yet, the proof of what he had done remained.

The Monarch’s army... was gone.