---
title: "Chapter 474: Infernal Demon Domain - World of Absolute Carnage"
slug: "ch-474"
novel: "Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100"
number: 474
views: 0
likes: 0
wordCount: 1065
createdAt: "2026-04-13"
---

"I’ll start with them," Max said, his voice no longer playful. It was cold now, hard, and filled with the weight of something final. His finger pointed squarely at the dense clusters of soldiers clad in the Monarch’s colors.

"They’re the ones, aren’t they?" he continued, his gaze sliding back to Drevon. "The ones who slaughtered city after city in the Central Region to weaken the foundation of this continent for you, to build a citadel for your Monarch. Who burned homes. Who hunted children. Who painted the rivers red with the blood of innocent people."

He paused, his expression calm—too calm.

"I’m no saint," Max said. "I don’t fight for virtue. I don’t care about justice, or mercy, or redemption. But if there’s one thing I do care about—" his voice sharpened like a blade drawn from its sheath "—it’s that I absolutely hate the Monarch. I hate everything it stands for. And you..." He looked Drevon dead in the eyes, his aura beginning to boil again. "...you’ve sent people to kill me time and time again. You’ve hunted me like I’m prey."

His eyes began to glow, and the black flames around him flickered violently.

"So now, just because I can... I will annihilate your army. Every. Single. One. Of. Them."

As the final word left his lips, Max’s entire body shuddered, as if it had become the conduit of something ancient, something violent and unchained. A sudden beam of infernal energy erupted from the core of his chest, thick and blinding, casting the battlefield in an unnatural red glow.

The Infernal Demon Tattoo that sprawled across the right side of his body began to burn brighter—far brighter—its dark red patterns now pulsating like veins of molten magma. It wasn’t just glowing—it was alive, writhing like it was awakening from slumber, hunger etched into every line, every flicker of light.

And then, in a voice so low it felt like a whisper across reality itself, Max uttered the words that made the world still.

"Infernal Demon Domain – World of Absolute Carnage."

The air exploded.

A deep, hellish wave of pure infernal energy burst out from Max’s body like a nuclear detonation made of rage and blood. It surged outward in every direction, expanding rapidly, consuming space, devouring the sky, swallowing the earth.

The clouds above were ripped apart, erased by the sheer malice of the domain. The light of the sun vanished as if retreating in fear. And within seconds, the entire battlefield—the entire world as far as the eye could see—was consumed by a new realm, a true domain.

Everything changed.

The sky turned dark crimson, dripping with blood-colored mist that hissed and crackled. The ground beneath their feet warped into a wasteland of cracked black stone, littered with broken bones and dying embers.

Rivers of glowing red energy—pools of boiling hatred—carved through the earth like veins in the skin of a beast. The air itself was heavy, choking, filled with the scent of death and rusted iron. Screams echoed in the distance—voices that didn’t belong to the living, nor the dead.

Everyone was engulfed.

The armies of the Lost Continent, humans and elves alike, stumbled as they felt their legs grow weak and their hearts pound wildly with fear.

The army of the Monarch, thousands strong, looked around in confusion and horror as the oppressive aura began to crush their will to fight.

Even the demons, immune to many forms of energy, shuddered—because this was not just energy. This was the origin of torment.

Even the leaders—King Magnar, Elarion, Marcel, Kate, Aurelia—each powerful enough to shatter mountains, felt their bodies stiffen under the weight of the domain. It pressed into their bones, into their minds, into their souls.

The Three Commendments of the Monarch—Garil, Loxus, Reiner—each known for monstrous strength, froze in the air with wide eyes.

And finally, Drevon—the Young Monarch himself—his body cloaked in authority and pride, looked around with a frown deeper than any he had worn before.

They were all shocked.

Because for the first time, they had all entered a Domain.

This was not illusion. Not a trick.

This was a true domain—a world entirely forged from Infernal Energy, born from rage, vengeance, and madness. In this world, Max’s will was law. Here, his energy reigned supreme.

The domain fed on hatred, amplified violence, and punished the weak. The deeper you breathed, the more the crimson air clawed at your mind, whispering to give in, to lose control, to kill.

"This..." Elarion began, but the words caught in his throat. The moment his senses registered what had just happened, they refused to believe it. His lungs felt like they were breathing fire. The air itself was hostile—thick, oppressive, and steeped in malevolence. His knees didn’t buckle, but his soul shuddered.

"A Domain..." Aurelia’s voice trembled. Her usually composed face was pale, her emerald eyes wide with disbelief. "A True Domain," she gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper as she looked around the twisted, blood-colored world they had all been thrown into.

It wasn’t just a change of atmosphere—it was like they had been ripped from their world and thrown into someone else’s nightmare. This wasn’t a spell. This wasn’t a technique.

This was another reality.

"How is this possible?!" Kate cried out, her voice echoing across the infernal wasteland as she turned in place, looking desperately for anything familiar—anything that didn’t reek of death and corruption. "A Domain? That’s something only the legends speak of. Not a single person in the Lower Domain has ever managed to comprehend one in over a thousand years! And now we’re... we’re inside one!"

The ground beneath their feet cracked and oozed thick rivers of red energy, whispering in guttural voices no one could understand. The crimson sky was alive with slow-moving infernal clouds that seemed to groan as they drifted, casting distorted shadows over the battlefield. The pressure crushed down on their minds, as though their every thought was being watched... judged.

King Magnar narrowed his eyes, taking in the flickering energy threads that stitched this world together—every one of them laced with infernal power. His eyes turned toward Max, who floated above it all like the sovereign of this grotesque domain. "I think I understand now," he said grimly. "This isn’t just a domain. It’s a specialized one. One born from the Infernal Demon Tattoo."