---
title: "Chapter 1251: A Forgotten Evil Sword"
slug: "ch-1258"
novel: "Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100"
number: 1258
views: 0
likes: 0
wordCount: 1217
createdAt: "2026-04-15"
---

A dark red blade emerged from his grasp, its entire surface covered by shifting veins of infernal light. Coils of malicious energy oozed off the weapon like smoke rising from a dying fire. The moment the sword appeared, the air in the chamber trembled. The runes carved into the walls flickered as if trying to resist the corruptive aura leaking out of it.

Lucien’s brows rose in genuine surprise. It took a great deal to impress him, yet the evil nature of the weapon drew his full attention immediately. He could feel its presence in the air like cold fingers brushing across his soul. "This sword... the corruption in it is stronger than anything I’ve seen from the demon race. What exactly is it?"

Max held the blade with careful precision, making sure its energy didn’t spill outward more than necessary. His eyes remained fixed on the sword’s trembling surface. "This is the sword used by the otherworldly being to seal Mark’s first soul," he said slowly. "The same sword whose seal I broke long ago."

Lucien’s eyes narrowed further in realization. "It’s that sword hmmm."

Max nodded. "Yes. And ever since then, I’ve tried to purify or devour the infernal energy on it. At first I thought the energy was simple corruption that I could refine or convert using my own abilities. But no matter how much of it I drew into myself, the concentration on the sword never decreased. It simply returned as though nothing happened."

He rotated the blade slightly, and the infernal energy shifted like a living thing beneath its surface. His voice grew more thoughtful. "I was convinced that I could cleanse it. I used black flames, devouring curse energy, dimensional compression, even spatial erasure. Nothing worked. The infernal power always remained perfectly intact."

Lucien listened without interrupting. The sword was clearly not a normal artifact. Its aura alone could kill any Divine Rank cultivator if it touched them for too long.

Max continued, "After countless tries, I arrived at only one possible conclusion. This weapon is still connected to Mark. Not just in spirit or memory, but in an actual living link. It feeds from something bound to him. Perhaps his soul, or perhaps his authority over the world. It doesn’t matter which. What matters is that the sword can sense any location where Mark’s fragmented soul exists."

A faint pulse of power came from the blade at that exact moment, as if responding to Max’s words. The infernal glow thickened before thinning again, like a heartbeat.

Lucien stepped forward slightly. "So you intend to use the sword as a compass."

"Yes," Max said. "Even though the tower conceals the exact location, this sword will resonate with the sealed soul. Not with its position in space but with its existence. I will follow the pull, however faint it may be. I have used this very sword last time to almost enter the area where Mark’s soul had been sealed."

Lucien glanced around the massive chamber, then back to Max. "And because the tower recognizes you as an authority holder, it will not block your attempt to find the chamber."

"Exactly." Max rested the blade against the ground, letting the infernal energy flow outward in thin waves. "It won’t be easy. The sword reacts violently to its connection with Mark, and I’ll need to constrain its influence while following its pull. But this is the only reliable method we have."

Lucien folded his arms and gave a firm nod. "Very well. Lead the way. I’ll cover you from interference—either from the tower’s natural defenses or from anything that tries to influence the seal."

A faint smile touched Max’s lips, though his eyes remained sharp. "Then let’s begin."

The chamber darkened slightly as the infernal sword responded to the sealed soul hidden deep beneath the tower’s many layers. A subtle vibration passed through the air, guiding Max toward a path no one had accessed for thousands of years.

The infernal sword vibrated faintly in Max’s hand as he walked deeper into the hidden sections of the Tower of Truth. It guided him with a steady pull, a silent instinct that grew stronger with each step.

The sensation was eerily familiar. Max remembered the first time he used this blade to locate Mark’s soul—how the sword had burned against his skin and tried to devour his essence every second he held it.

But this time the experience was entirely different. His current strength, his Black Soul, and the stability of his divine veins allowed him to hold the sword without suffering. The infernal energy still pulsed with its malicious hunger, yet none of it could infiltrate his body. It was as though the blade itself recognized that Max now stood beyond the level where it could harm him.

Lucien followed silently at his back, watching every movement with a discerning gaze. His eyes occasionally wandered to the sword, studying the ebb and flow of its aura. The harmony and tension between Max and the weapon intrigued him.

Even for a being chosen by the world, synchronizing with such a corrupted artifact should have been impossible, yet Max moved as though the infernal energy posed no threat whatsoever.

The deeper they went, the more the atmosphere shifted. Veins of red corruption flickered across the chamber walls like faint cracks in reality, barely visible but unmistakable to those sensitive to spatial fluctuations. The air felt heavier, colder, and far more oppressive.

After several silent minutes, Max slowed. The sword’s pull had intensified to a peak. The moment he stepped into a particular patch of empty air, the infernal blade thrummed violently—as if it had finally reached the place it was seeking.

Max came to a complete stop.

Carefully, he slid the sword back into his storage space. The moment the weapon vanished, the air in front of him felt strangely hollow, as though something important was lurking behind an invisible wall.

’I can sense it clearly,’ Max thought quietly, narrowing his eyes. ’The concentration of infernal energy is highest right here. Far higher than anywhere else in the entire tower. This must be the point where the sealed fragment rests.’

Lucien stepped beside him. "You found it?"

Max nodded without hesitation. "This is it. The sealed chamber is just beyond this point. It’s hidden perfectly, and even the tower spirit cannot see it, but I can feel the anchor."

He lifted his hand and pressed his palm toward the seemingly empty space.

The moment he willed it, the space in front of them rippled like disturbed water.

A second later, the ripples twisted, folded, and expanded into a dark, swirling portal—one that neither of them could see nor open without holding an authority from the Tower of Truth. The air vibrated with a low hum, ancient and instinctive, as though the tower itself acknowledged Max’s right to enter.

Lucien’s expression hardened. "This is deeper than I expected. The seal was hidden with far more care than the first soul fragment."

"Which only proves how dangerous this part of Mark truly is," Max said softly. "Let’s go."

With the portal yawning open before them, both stepped forward without hesitation, crossing the threshold into the sealed domain where Mark’s second soul had been imprisoned for thousands of years.