---
title: "Chapter 359: Gone..."
slug: "ch-359"
novel: "Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100"
number: 359
views: 0
likes: 0
wordCount: 1036
createdAt: "2026-04-13"
---

SHHHK!

From within the beam of golden energy, a red glow shimmered to life.

And then—

BOOM!

The entire Tremor Cannon split in half, torn apart from the inside as Max walked out, completely untouched, his sword dragging along the ground, carving a thin trail of glowing molten stone.

Lucas took a step back, eyes wide with panic.

"You—What are you!?"

Max didn't answer.

He vanished.

And reappeared in front of Lucas, faster than a thought.

"AHHHHHH!"

Max roared as he swung down with all the weight of his fury, all the force of his months of torment, all the rage of loss.

Lucas raised his arms to defend—

CRACK!!

His bones snapped.

The sword smashed through his defenses and struck his torso with full force, launching him like a meteor. He tore through five walls, then a statue, then skidded across the stone courtyard outside the villa, blood painting a thick trail in his wake.

He lay in a ruined crater, coughing blood, his chest armor shattered, ribs broken, arms trembling.

Max landed a moment later, his wings folding behind him. He raised his sword again, its blade still glowing with residual infernal energy, now tainted with Lucas's blood.

Lucas barely lifted his head. "You… You're not… human anymore…"

Max's expression didn't change.

There was no joy.

No triumph.

Only cold fury.

And a promise yet to be fulfilled.

Step.

Step.

Each footfall echoed like a death toll in Lucas's ears.

Max walked slowly—unhurried, methodical—his sword dragging along the shattered stone floor, leaving a burning red trail behind him as it scraped against the rubble.

He looked like a reaper, advancing through the ruins of a kingdom he had just burned down.

Lucas panicked.

His breathing grew ragged, uneven. Blood spilled from the corner of his mouth as he tried to push himself up—but his body screamed in protest. His arms trembled. His ribs ached with every breath.

"N-No! Stay away from me!" he gasped, eyes wide with terror. "Stay away!"

Max said nothing.

He didn't flinch.

He didn't even blink.

He kept walking—eyes locked on Lucas like a predator closing in on a wounded kill.

Lucas's gaze darted around, frantic.

The villa—his home, his fortress—was nothing but a field of wreckage now. Pillars lay shattered. Walls reduced to rubble. The luxurious garden, once a symbol of pride, now a crater of scorched earth and broken stone.

There was nothing left.

No guards.

No defense formations.

No escape.

And Max kept coming.

Closer.

And closer.

And then—

Lucas's eyes widened in sudden realization—his gaze dropping to Max's feet.

And there, glowing faintly beneath the dust and debris, was a teleportation rune.

His eyes lit up.

A spark of desperation surged through him.

'The teleportation rune… to the Lost Continent…'

With shaking fingers, Lucas reached into his storage ring and pulled out a small runestone—etched with ancient lines of runes.

He didn't hesitate.

With the last remnants of his strength, he poured every drop of mana he had left into the stone.

WHIINNNGG!

The runestone erupted in a bright blue glow, its circuits flaring to life with a high-pitched hum.

Beneath Max's feet, the teleportation rune activated.

Blue lines carved into the stone flickered to life, illuminating the ground like a web of light.

Max paused—just for a heartbeat—as the glow surrounded him.

Then—

WHISH!

In a flash of radiant blue light, he vanished.

Gone.

Lucas blinked, stunned, frozen in place as the world went silent.

And then—he slumped back down, exhaling sharply.

"Damn…" he muttered, his voice barely audible over the sound of blood dripping to the floor. "That was too close…"

Around him, the last fragments of his once-grand villa lay in ruin.

And far away…

A new storm had just landed on the Lost Continent.

---

High above the Lost Continent, the skies were calm—clouds drifting lazily under a brilliant blue sunlit dome.

Until suddenly—

CRACK!

A rupture tore through the clouds as a figure shot downward, slicing through the atmosphere like a falling star. Wind howled in its wake, and pressure trembled across the air as the figure plummeted toward the earth at breakneck speed.

And then—

BOOM!

The impact struck like thunder.

The ground exploded outward, a shockwave blasting dirt, dust, and fragments of stone in every direction. A small crater formed in the middle of a remote, grassy plain, smoke and debris still swirling around the edges.

In the center of it—

Max.

His body lay motionless, half-buried in dirt and dust. He was covered in glowing black-red infernal tattoos, running from his face to both arms—etched into his very flesh like ancient runes forged by fire and wrath.

But something had changed.

As the dust settled and the air grew still, the tattoos began to fade—slowly, gradually—retreating like shadows melting under sunlight. Inch by inch, his bare skin reemerged, pale and bruised beneath the fading marks of infernal power.

Max's eyes cracked open, bloodshot and heavy.

His vision was blurred.

His head ached.

"Huh… what's going on…?" he muttered, tasting dust in his mouth. He coughed weakly, trying to lift himself—but his body refused.

Every limb screamed with pain.

Every breath felt like fire.

He tried again—barely shifting—and a sharp wave of agony coursed through his bones. He grit his teeth, sweat already trailing down his temples.

Just a few feet away from him, the Abyss Dragon Sword lay half-buried in the dirt, its blade glowing faintly red. It pulsed—steady, rhythmic—as if calling out to him.

Max blinked at it.

He wanted to reach for it.

But he couldn't even lift his arm.

"Damn… how did I end up in this mess?" he whispered, his voice weak, eyes drifting up to the sky above—so blue, so peaceful, with gentle arcs of cloud trailing across it.

And then—

Like a lightning strike through the fog of his mind—

It all came back.

Alice's death.

His descent into madness.

His pact with the sword.

Mark throwing him into the depths.

His escape.

The fight.

Lucas bleeding in the dirt.

Max's chest rose sharply.

"Alice…" he breathed.

His throat tightened, and a tear slipped from the corner of his eye, trailing down to mix with the dust on his cheek.

And then—