---
title: "Chapter 323: Eating Away Fate"
slug: "ch-323"
novel: "Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100"
number: 323
views: 0
likes: 0
wordCount: 1127
createdAt: "2026-04-13"
---

"I think Max survived the Seven Lightnings of Judgment," Azula said suddenly, her eyes fixed on the colossal black Manifestation that stood as still and unbroken as ever. "There's not a single scratch on that thing."

She said slowly, her legs shaky but her smirk unwavering.

"And by surviving… he's provoked the world even further. This pressure isn't random. It's focused. It's personal. And it's laced with killing intent."

She tilted her head, eyes gleaming with malicious excitement.

"Which means… we still have a chance to kill him. Think about it. Even the world itself wants him dead. What are we afraid of?"

Some leaders visibly hesitated. Others exchanged uncertain glances.

They didn't want to kill Max. He wasn't their enemy. In fact, many of them admired him. He was, undeniably, the greatest genius the Valora Continent had ever seen.

But Azula's next words struck a deeper chord.

"Don't you wonder… why he's so strong?" she said, her voice a low whisper now, curling with temptation. "Why his combat power is so absurd? Why his talents defy logic? What kind of secrets is that kid hiding that even the world itself had to intervene to stop him?"

The moment she said that… something changed.

Greed.

It crept into the eyes of several leaders. A flicker at first. Then a glimmer. Then a fire.

Because if Max possessed something so powerful that it could attract the Wrath of the World…

What would happen if they took it for themselves?

But just as the silence turned dangerous, King Magnar raised his voice, his tone firm and steady.

"Don't fall for her poison," he said sharply. "Max is a treasure of the Valora Continent. He's the strongest genius we've ever had. We should be protecting him—not sharpening our blades behind his back."

Azula turned to him with a cold smile. "He's angered the world, Magnar. What right does he have to live in this world anymore?"

A new voice cut in—deep, gravelly, full of disdain.

Norton Blade, the ruthless leader of the Blade Family, stood with blood still dripping from the corners of his eyes. He sneered.

"She's right," he said, scanning the crowd. "We've all done terrible things in our lives. We've waged wars, committed crimes… but none of us have ever triggered the Wrath of the World."

He took a step forward, his gaze cold and calculating.

"Don't you get it? For the world to personally try to erase him… Max must have committed a sin so great, so unnatural, it defied even cosmic law."

His eyes swept across the other leaders.

"Whatever he's done—it's beyond redemption."

And in that moment, the air turned heavy once more.

Not because of the world's pressure…

But because the leaders of Valora were now facing a decision that could change the future of the continent forever.

Stand with the greatest genius their land had ever birthed.

Or betray him… and claim whatever godly secret he possessed for themselves.

---

Max watched in frozen horror as the black clouds above writhed and twisted, vibrant streaks of multicolored lightning snaking across their churning surface. But then—

The clouds split.

And from within them, seven enormous dragons emerged—each one forged from one of the seven colors of lightning: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. Their massive, sinuous bodies crackled with divine energy, eyes glowing like stars, scales alive with ancient, destructive power.

They weren't just powerful.

They were behemoths.

They descended slowly, their forms coiling downward through the storm clouds like celestial executioners, each one targeting the colossal black Manifestation that stood at the center of the Mourning Depths.

"What the—" Max gasped, words catching in his throat. He couldn't even finish the sentence.

Beside him, Blob trembled, his voice uncharacteristically shaken. "Well… you're done, kid."

Even he had never seen anything like this.

The very ground of the Mourning Depths shuddered. Caverns cracked. Peaks trembled. Creatures howled in terror as the seven dragons—divine storms given form—descended upon the colossal figure.

It was a sight that could freeze the hearts of even the bravest warriors.

---

From afar, Azula watched with a wicked smile tugging at her lips. Her silver eyes sparkled with cruel delight.

"Heh," she scoffed. "Even if we don't lift a finger… looks like that kid won't be around much longer."

She crossed her arms, her voice cold and final.

"It's over for him."

But King Magnar wasn't smiling.

He stared at the scene, his heart heavy, his expression unreadable.

Seven divine dragons summoned by the very world to destroy a boy's fate, destiny, and luck.

And all he could think was—What in the world did that boy do to deserve this?

But in the end… the question didn't matter.

Because the dragons had arrived.

---

The colossal figure—the manifestation of Max's fate—stood tall and unmoving.

But the moment the dragons reached it, their maws opened wide. They lunged—one biting into its arm, another into its leg, others sinking their fangs into its waist, shoulders, torso.

It was a divine feeding.

And the moment their fangs sank in, Max's body reacted.

A jolt of agony surged through him.

He collapsed to one knee, eyes wide with horror.

"What's—happening—?" he tried to speak, but no sound came out. His lips moved. Nothing followed.

His vision dimmed, colors vanishing.

His hearing dulled, replaced by silence.

And then, finally—his body gave out. He collapsed fully, unable to move, unable to speak, deaf and blind, consumed by an overwhelming weakness that drowned out his thoughts.

Blob hovered helplessly beside him.

He wanted to act—but there was nothing he could do. Nothing anyone could do now.

In the distance, the colossal figure began to disintegrate.

Black light shimmered across its fading body as particles peeled away, scattered into the sky like dust in the wind. The once-proud Manifestation, untouched by even the Seven Lightnings of Judgment, was now being devoured, piece by piece.

But even as Max lay paralyzed, something deep within him burned.

His Three Dimensional Body was still active. Through it, he could see what was happening. He could see the dragons tearing into his Manifestation. He could see the unraveling of his fate.

And his mind screamed.

'NO!'

'I won't allow this!'

Rage flared in his heart.

His will surged.

Max activated the Dragon Scales Transformation.

All fifty-eight of his draconic scales lit up with energy, blazing across his body like molten metal. Power flooded his veins.

He stood.

His body still couldn't speak. His mouth was sealed shut by the unseen force. But his resolve was sharper than steel.

He drew his sword.

And without hesitation, he stabbed it into his own thigh, channeling all 58 activated scales into the strike.

The blade pierced through flesh and muscle.

And then—