---
title: "Chapter 963: A Good Problem"
slug: "ch-969"
novel: "Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100"
number: 969
views: 0
likes: 0
wordCount: 1097
createdAt: "2026-04-15"
---

The elder’s eyes widened slightly in surprise at the sudden appearance, but he recovered almost instantly, his composure showing that he had long grown used to meeting powerful, unpredictable people. Still, there was a flicker of warmth in his expression as he asked, "Max, what are you doing here?"

Max grinned faintly, the corner of his mouth tilting upward in a lighthearted way. "Aren’t I a guest elder of the Hunter Association? Of course I can come here," he replied, deliberately making it sound casual, almost teasing.

"Hehe, that you do," Elder Liam chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. But there was more than simple amusement in his gaze—there was pride.

When he had first met Max, he had seen in him a spark of potential, something that made him worth watching. Now, that spark had grown into something far greater.

This young man, who had once been just another rising talent, had carved his way into becoming not only a guest elder of the Hunter Association but also one of the most talked-about and feared geniuses in the entire Middle Domain... perhaps even in all of Acaris.

And that thought made Elder Liam’s chest swell with quiet satisfaction. To have been one of the first to notice that potential—before the rest of the world caught on—was something that he couldn’t help but be proud of.

"I believe you aren’t here for nothing," Elder Liam said after a moment, his voice steady but expectant. His sharp gaze studied Max, reading the intent in his eyes. "Speak—what do you need?"

"There’s this problem of mine..." Max began slowly, his tone shifting to something more serious. He had no hesitation in speaking openly; the Hunter Association was one of the few forces he could trust. Without holding back, he explained the situation in detail—what had happened, who was involved, and why it mattered.

When Max finished, Elder Liam’s expression had hardened. "That’s... a bit of a tricky situation," he said, his voice carrying a weight of caution. "We, the Hunter Association, are a neutral force. We do not involve ourselves in conflicts between other powers. Our duties are clear—we hunt monsters in the wild, fight during beast tides, and wage war against the Nulls when necessary. We exist to protect the people, not to take sides in political or factional disputes."

Max’s brows furrowed slightly. He understood this principle well; the Hunter Association’s neutrality was one of the reasons it had survived countless eras without being dragged into the power struggles that consumed other forces. But that neutrality also meant they couldn’t easily intervene in matters like his... unless the matter was reframed.

And so, in a calm, deliberate tone, Max changed his approach entirely. "I am a guest elder of the Hunter Association," he began again, this time with authority in his voice. "A friend of mine has been kidnapped by members of the Void Soul Tower, and I have reason to believe that the Thunder Monarch Hall is also behind it. I am requesting the Hunter Association to act in the name of justice in this matter."

Elder Liam’s eyes narrowed slightly as he caught the shift in wording, and then a faint, knowing smile tugged at his lips. "Oh? You should have said that from the very beginning." His voice took on a lighter note, though there was still a certain steel beneath it. "Your matter is serious enough to warrant attention. I will take you to see President William right away."

With those words, Elder Liam turned and began leading the way through the grand halls of the Hunter Association’s tower.

Max followed, their footsteps echoing against the polished stone floor. Guards and staff along the way glanced at them with curiosity, some even whispering at the sight of Elder Liam personally escorting someone to the president’s office.

---

Inside the spacious, high-ceilinged office of President William, the air carried a mix of formality and authority. Polished darkwood furniture gleamed under the light filtering in through tall, narrow windows, and the scent of old parchment and ink lingered faintly in the room.

Yet the refined setting was disrupted by the fierce aura that seemed to dominate the space—not from President William himself, but from the other figure already present.

It was an old man with flowing white hair and a long, neatly kept beard. His robes were simple yet dignified, golden prayer beads hanging loosely around his neck, and at first glance, he bore the image of a serene monk—someone you might expect to see deep in meditation within the sacred halls of the Bright Buddha Palace.

But that was where the resemblance ended. Unlike the calm, gentle presence most monks carried, this man radiated a raw, unrestrained baleful aura that seemed to clash violently with the image of compassion and peace.

It was the aura of someone who had walked through countless battlefields, someone whose hands had not only been clasped in prayer but also soaked in blood.

"Of all the targets..." President William’s voice was deep and heavy, his expression solemn as he regarded the monk-like figure. "To think they would attack the Bright Buddha Palace of all people. Tell me, has any of your members done something—anything—that could have provoked the wrath of the Ascendants enough for them to send wave after wave of Vespers against you?"

The old man’s eyes narrowed slightly, but his voice was calm and resolute when he answered. "My members of the Bright Buddha Palace would never do anything to deliberately offend others," he said firmly.

Then, as if to drive the point home, his tone hardened, and a trace of pride slipped in. "Moreover, even if we had done something to offend the Ascendants—so what? Buddha fears nobody, and our Bright Buddha Palace is the same. We bow to no one."

President William’s lips twitched ever so slightly, his expression betraying the faintest sign of exasperation. ’This arrogant old man...,’ he thought silently. The leader of the Bright Buddha Palace had always been a difficult personality—unyielding, proud, and utterly unconcerned with diplomatic niceties.

And the more William got to know him, the more he realized that the man’s arrogance wasn’t an act; it was part of his very nature, carved deep into his bones.

Still, the situation was serious enough that William let the comment pass without challenge. The Bright Buddha Palace being targeted by the Ascendants was no small matter, and having its leader personally here in the Almond Region meant the problem was already far more severe than it appeared on the surface.