---
title: "Chapter 1049: Zoltan making a move"
slug: "ch-1055"
novel: "Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100"
number: 1055
views: 0
likes: 0
wordCount: 1126
createdAt: "2026-04-15"
---

Killing Aron and Bron would be simple. One strike, one swing of his sword, and their heads would roll. That would end their existence quickly, far too quickly for Max’s heart to accept. Death was a release, and release was not what he wanted for them.

He wanted them to feel the weight of what they had done. He wanted their every breath to carry agony, their every thought to be poisoned by pain. He wanted them to suffer in ways they had never imagined, not for a few moments, but for as long as he chose to keep them alive.

Their bodies twisted violently beneath his grip, their screams echoing across the arena. The corruption spread through them like wildfire, but Max kept a tight leash on it. He guided it carefully, making sure it destroyed without killing, burned without ending, broke without releasing. Every moment was engineered to draw out despair.

In his mind, he had already decided. Aron and Bron would not die here. Their punishment would not be so merciful. They would live, but in chains of torment spun from his infernal energy. For every soul they had slaughtered on the Valora Continent, for every scream they had ignored, Max would carve suffering into their bodies.

To him, this was not vengeance alone. It was justice. And justice, in his eyes, demanded eternity.

Bron’s voice broke into a shrill, distorted cry. "Stop! STOP!" His body flailed helplessly, stumps of his severed limbs scraping against the stone as if trying to crawl away.

Aron tried to sneer again, tried to show defiance, but his voice cracked under the weight of pain. "We... we do not... regret..." His words dissolved into another scream as black smoke poured from his mouth.

The crowd outside fell silent. The humans watched in awe and fear, unable to look away as Max’s infernal aura engulfed the demons. The demons who once showed no remorse now writhed like insects under his grip. Even the demons in the audience shifted uneasily, some stepping back as if the agony of their champions bled into their own bones.

Max leaned closer, his voice soft, almost whispering. "You took everything from me. You destroyed my continent. You slaughtered my people. Now, you will feel what they felt... every second of it."

The infernal energy surged again, and their screams grew hoarse. Their eyes rolled back as their bodies shook violently, spasms racking their frames while the corruption tore at their very essence. Max did not kill them outright. Instead, he fed the energy in carefully, ensuring their suffering was drawn out, an endless cycle of torment and decay.

For the first time since the battle began or one would say since their birth, the twin demons knew despair.

"Everything has consequences in this world, and this is yours," Max muttered, his tone flat and merciless. With a flick of his hand, the broken bodies of Aron and Bron vanished into his Dimension of Spirit. Inside that separate world, he gave his orders. Blob was tasked with torturing them physically, breaking their bodies over and over, while Tian was commanded to keep constant watch. The Dimension of Spirit itself restricted every movement they might attempt.

There would be no escape, no reprieve. Aron and Bron would live out the remainder of their existence in unending agony, writhing under the corruption of infernal energy consuming them making them feel the agony of all the humans they had slaughtered in the Valora Continent from within while Blob inflicted pain from outside.

For them, death would have been mercy. Max had denied them mercy.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

The sound of hands coming together echoed through the arena. It was slow, deliberate, and mocking. A figure stepped forward from the ranks of the demons, his crimson eyes gleaming with excitement. It was Zoltan, the demon race’s strongest genius, striding into the arena with a smile curling across his lips.

"You are very good," Zoltan said, his voice smooth but carrying a sharp edge.

"Damn it, when did he enter?" Aden muttered, his expression turning grim. He, President William, Hermes, and several other leaders of the human side immediately took flight, surging toward the arena to intervene. Yet before they could step inside, their path was blocked. Varian, Bellion, and several demon leaders moved into place, their auras flaring to seal the space like an impenetrable wall.

Aden’s face darkened. His voice cut through the air. "What is the meaning of this, Varian? Are the demons breaking their word?"

Varian sneered, his fangs glinting in the crimson light. "Zoltan only wishes to exchange a few moves with Max. That battle with Aron and Bron stirred something in him, awakened his fighting spirit. He wants to see just how talented this boy from your human domain really is."

Aden’s hands clenched tightly, his voice cold. "Do you think this is possible? Do you think we will allow this?"

Before he could take another step, a voice whispered in his ear, carried by vital essence transmission. It was Max.

[Grandmaster Aden, don’t act rashly. Let them have their way for now. Zoltan cannot kill me. If you have been watching me all this time, then you know I can teleport to the Great Ruler Empire at any moment should my life be in danger.]

Aden’s eyes flickered, his expression grim as he listened in silence.

’What do you intend to do?’ he asked through the same secret channel.

Max’s response came instantly, his voice cold and steady. [I intend to make their strongest genius suffer heavily.]

Aden hesitated for only a breath before replying. "Do as you wish. But the moment you feel your life slipping out of your control, teleport away without hesitation."

[I will,] Max answered firmly.

Aden’s gaze shifted back to the arena where Zoltan stood, his body glowing faintly with crimson demonic energy, a predator eager for a worthy hunt.

And Max, standing at the center of the arena with red hair flowing and infernal energy rippling calmly around him, raised his sword slightly, his eyes locked onto Zoltan’s.

"Aden, what is it you fear so much?" Varian sneered, his voice filled with mocking amusement. "They will only be exchanging a few moves. Nothing more. Nothing big."

Aden’s gaze sharpened, his crimson aura faintly rippling. "Varian, I am warning you. Do not try anything foolish. If you do, you will have only yourself to blame for what follows." His tone was sharp and cold, his presence pressing down like a blade.

Outwardly, he played his role as the cautious leader ready to step in at the first sign of betrayal. Inwardly, however, his focus remained locked on Max, waiting for any signal that the youth needed intervention.