---
title: "Chapter 1324: Final Battle - 11"
slug: "ch-1331"
novel: "Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100"
number: 1331
views: 0
likes: 0
wordCount: 1711
createdAt: "2026-04-15"
---

The moment their gazes locked, the world lost all meaning beyond the two of them.

Mark moved first.

The godlike crownbearer lifted one hand, and the skies of Acaris folded inward as if gripped by an invisible fist. Entire regions of space collapsed toward his palm, compressing into a sphere of impossible density.

Rivers of world essence streamed into it, carrying the screams of mountains, oceans, and continents being stripped of their existence. With a casual motion, Mark hurled it toward Max, and the attack tore through reality like a falling star meant to end an era.

Max did not retreat.

The seven colored lightnings surged beneath him, roaring as one, while the Concept of Severing Sword sharpened to its absolute extreme. He swung his sword once, clean and simple, yet that single motion carried infernal destruction and sacred judgment at the same time.

The slash did not collide with the attack in a conventional sense. It severed it. Cause and effect were cut apart, the compressed world essence losing its reason to exist. The sphere imploded silently before erupting into a storm of shattered laws that washed over the battlefield like divine rain.

Mark laughed, the sound layered with thunder and authority. He spread his wings, and the ground below Max shattered as colossal chains formed from pure world law erupted upward. Each chain was thick as a mountain range, engraved with symbols of dominion, binding fate, space, and causality together.

They wrapped toward Max from every direction, seeking to anchor him to the world and crush him beneath its will.

Max’s infernal half flared violently as black flames surged outward, devouring the chains on contact, while his sacred half shone brighter than a sun.

The White Lotus Ice Essence bloomed in full force, freezing the remaining chains in mid existence, not merely stopping them but locking their very laws into stillness. With a step forward, Max shattered them all, fragments of frozen law scattering across the sky like broken stars.

Mark appeared before him in an instant, his movement not bound by distance. His fist descended, carrying the weight of an entire world behind it. Space folded around the strike, and time lagged for a fraction of a moment, unable to keep up.

Max met it head on.

Infernal energy and sacred radiance surged together through his body as he channeled the Vein of Origin. Their fists collided, and the shockwave that followed did not spread outward. It detonated downward, splitting the planet’s crust beneath them, revealing molten layers miles below before Max’s spatial laws forced the wound closed. Even so, the entire world shook as if screaming in agony.

They exchanged blows faster than sight could follow.

Each strike carried power capable of erasing peak Divine Rank beings without residue. Mark shaped reality into blades, spears, and collapsing horizons, each attack unique, each one embodying a different aspect of godhood.

Max answered with absolute severance, cutting attacks apart at their source, slicing through spatial bindings, freezing divine constructs, burning through causality itself with his black flames and sacred light intertwined.

Seven lightning dragons descended again, not as a single assault, but weaving between Max’s movements, striking in perfect coordination.

Mark responded by manifesting avatars of the world’s will, towering figures of stone, flame, sea, and sky that clashed head on with the dragons. Each collision birthed storms that tore continents apart before being erased by Max’s spatial control.

The battle escalated without pause.

Mark raised both arms, and the horizon bent into a ring around them. The world itself attempted to overwrite Max, forcing a new reality where Max had never existed. Yet the Concept of Severing Sword flared, its edge cutting through existence itself. Max tore himself free from that rewritten fate, his blade carving a glowing scar across Mark’s chest that bled divine light and infernal shadow at once.

Mark roared, fury finally cracking his composure, and unleashed the full authority of the crown. The sky turned crimson as countless laws descended like judgment, each one designed to erase Max utterly.

Max answered with everything.

Seven colored lightning wrapped around him as he charged forward, infernal and sacred powers surging in harmony. His sword became a line of absolute finality, and with a single decisive motion, he cut upward.

The heavens split.

The attack did not end the battle, but it shook the god.

Mark staggered back for the first time, divine blood falling like burning stars.

The balance of the battlefield shifted the instant Max pressed forward.

The moment Mark staggered, Max did not give him a single breath to recover. The seven colored lightning surged as one, wrapping around Max’s body like divine armor, while the infernal and sacred halves of his form resonated in terrifying harmony.

He stepped through space itself, not teleporting, but forcing the distance to acknowledge his presence, and appeared directly before Mark. His fist struck first, driven by the Vein of Origin and layered with infernal dominance and sacred judgment, and the impact shattered the divine halo behind Mark’s head, sending fragments of rotating sigils flying like broken constellations.

Mark roared in rage and retaliated, his wings of world essence sweeping forward with enough force to erase entire regions. Max cut through them mid motion.

The Concept of Severing Sword flared, not as a visible blade but as an absolute directive, and the wings were sliced cleanly from their causal anchor, dissolving into meaningless energy before they could touch him. Black flames followed immediately, devouring what remained, while White Lotus Ice Essence bloomed and froze the surrounding space, locking Mark in place for the briefest instant.

That instant was enough.

Max struck again and again, each movement overflowing with layered power. A sacred golden palm slammed into Mark’s chest and collapsed inward, crushing divine runes embedded in his godlike body.

A burst of infernal energy followed, ripping through Mark’s abdomen and tearing away chunks of condensed world essence that tried desperately to reform. Seven colored lightning descended in coordinated arcs, not wildly, but with precision, each strike targeting a different law Mark relied upon to stabilize his form.

Mark attempted to counter, unleashing torrents of causality that rewrote space around Max, trying to make every attack miss, every strike arrive too late.

Max severed the attempt itself. His sword moved once, clean and deliberate, and the flow of cause and effect feeding Mark fractured violently. The connection between Mark and the world stuttered, not broken, but weakened, and the backlash tore through his divine body like a silent explosion.

"You dare!" Mark bellowed, summoning the full authority of the crown once more.

The ground beneath Max vanished as Mark called forth a collapse of reality, a world ending phenomenon meant to swallow everything into nothingness. Max did not evade. He stepped into it.

The Concept of Space expanded, his fifth level mastery overriding the collapsing laws, while the Concept of Severing Sword carved a path forward. The phenomenon split apart around him, unraveling into harmless light as Max emerged unscathed, his eyes burning brighter than ever.

He did not stop.

Max raised his sword, and this time every power he possessed flowed into it without restraint. Infernal energy screamed as it poured in. Sacred radiance stabilized the blade. Lightning wrapped around its edge. Ice refined its structure. Space anchored its path. Severance defined its purpose. He swung downward, and the strike landed squarely across Mark’s torso.

The result was catastrophic.

Mark’s godlike body was torn apart from shoulder to hip, divine blood and corrupted essence spilling out in a storm that burned the sky. He was flung backward, crashing through layers of space and slamming into the planet below with enough force to crack the world open again.

Before his body could fully reform, Max descended like judgment incarnate, his fist smashing into Mark’s face, then his knee driving into his core, then his blade flashing again and again, each strike tearing away more of Mark’s connection to the world.

Mark fought back desperately now, his attacks losing their earlier dominance, his movements slower, more frantic. Every time he gathered power, Max was already there, severing, freezing, burning, and crushing.

The god of Acaris was being driven backward step by step, his once invincible form riddled with fractures of broken law and bleeding essence.

At last, Max stood above him, his seven colored lightning roaring overhead, his infernal and sacred forms blazing in unison, his sword poised with absolute calm.

For the first time since becoming whole again, Mark felt it clearly.

He was being overwhelmed.

Not by trickery.

Not by chance.

But by sheer, undeniable superiority.

Max looked down at him, his voice steady and merciless as the world trembled around them.

"This is my full strength," he said.

The god of Acaris struggled to rise, but the world no longer answered him as it once had.

Max had taken control of the battle.𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

And Mark was being utterly dominated. But his body was soon healed to his peak state in just a second.

"How dare you!" Mark roared as his blood spilled, his voice tearing through the heavens like a wounded god’s scream. He couldn’t accept the fact that even in his strongest form, he was being dominated by Max. He was a god... How could be beaten by a mortal? He refused to accept this!

Rage twisted his face as he stared at the crimson glow staining his divine flesh, unable to accept the sight before him. He had fused with the world itself.

He had become its will, its law, its authority. A god was not meant to bleed, and yet the proof was burning on his chest.

The crown atop his head flared violently, not expanding outward this time but collapsing inward with terrifying intent. The essence of Acaris surged toward him in uncontrollable torrents. Entire continents dimmed as if their souls were being ripped away.

The skies lost their color, the oceans fell unnaturally still, and the heartbeat of the planet faltered. This was no longer Mark borrowing power from the world. This was Mark consuming it.

"You forced this," Mark said, his voice deep and distorted as cracks of divine light spread across his godly form. "Then witness the end of everything."