---
title: "Chapter 1060: Desperate Situation"
slug: "ch-1066"
novel: "Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100"
number: 1066
views: 0
likes: 0
wordCount: 1031
createdAt: "2026-04-15"
---

Max’s expression grew increasingly desperate as he watched Mark advance through the air. Each step he took seemed deliberate, his presence radiating a suffocating pressure that pressed down on everyone around him.

’Damn, I can’t even sense the Space Anchor I placed in the Great Ruler Empire of because of the space lock Mark put in.’ Max thought depressingly.

"Stand back," Lady Divine commanded solemnly. Her voice was calm but carried the weight of finality. Mana surged violently from her body, weaving into countless streams that coalesced into glowing runes. They burned with divine brilliance, spinning around her as though answering her will.

Mark’s smile widened at the sight. "Isabella, you should know by now that your attacks cannot hurt me," he said mockingly. His tone was almost playful, but his eyes glimmered with cold amusement.

Lady Divine ignored his words. With precise gestures, she sent the runes flying outward, forming an intricate formation that enclosed Mark from every direction. For a moment, the battlefield shimmered with radiant sigils, the air trembling under the pressure of her power. Yet when Mark’s figure touched the glowing runes, they shattered instantly as though they were fragile glass. He walked calmly through them, every step tearing down the divine constructs until nothing remained but fading fragments of light.

"Great Hand of Buddha!"

A thunderous voice resounded from above, and a golden radiance illuminated the sky. From within the colossal Buddha figure that guarded the Bright Buddha Palace, a massive golden palm descended, its brilliance blinding as it carried the weight of divine judgment. The hand swept down with unstoppable force, slamming toward Mark like the wrath of heaven itself.

Mark’s expression finally darkened, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he turned toward Isaac, who stood within the golden Buddha’s protection. His voice was cold with irritation. "You are truly beginning to anger me." With those words, he clenched his fist and thrust it upward.

BOOM!

The heavens shook as Mark’s punch collided with the radiant palm. The golden hand shattered instantly, breaking apart into countless fragments of light that scattered across the sky before dissolving into nothingness. The overwhelming attack was destroyed in a single strike.

Max’s voice cut through the ringing air. "Now!"

Hermes, the Emperor of the Great Ruler Empire, stepped forward first. His body glowed with a crimson-gold light as the fourth-level concept of Battle erupted from him like a raging storm. His aura twisted into a colossal war halberd, the very essence of combat condensed into form.

With a bellow that shook the heavens, Hermes swung the halberd down, and from its blade emerged an ocean of phantasmal soldiers, each strike embodying centuries of battles fought and won. The halberd cleaved through the air with enough force to split mountains.

Beside him, President William’s presence expanded like a looming tide. His fourth-level concept of War materialized into a massive battlefield illusion spanning the skies, its atmosphere heavy with iron and blood. The clash of phantom armies echoed across the realm, countless spectral soldiers charging with blades and spears raised.

At the center of it all, William’s strongest attack condensed into a black spear of war essence, forged from the will of every fallen warrior his concept embodied. He hurled it at Mark, the spear tearing open space as it roared forward like the judgment of war itself.

On the other side, the Palace Master of the Absolute Sword Palace unsheathed his blade. His aura flickered once, then multiplied. A thousand swords burst forth, suspended in the air around him, each one sharp enough to cut the laws of the world itself.

"Thousand Swords Origin!" he declared as the swords shot forward in unison, a river of blinding edges that pierced through dimensions. The light of the swords filled the sky, weaving into an endless net meant to carve Mark into nothingness.

Not to be outdone, the Guild Master of the Eternal Sun Guild raised his arms high. The air grew unbearably hot as he invoked his greatest technique. A miniature sun formed above his palms, its brilliance so bright it blinded the onlookers below.

He thrust it forward, and the sun expanded mid-flight, hurling waves of firestorms as it bore down on Mark with the fury of celestial incineration. The sheer heat warped the space around it, threatening to burn away the very arena of the Bright Buddha Palace.

All four attacks came at once, each carrying the weight of 7th level Divine Rank attack. The halberd of battle, the spear of war, the river of swords, and the burning sun converged on Mark, tearing through the air with a force that even made the earth tremble.

Mark’s eyes narrowed. His calm smile vanished for the first time as he raised his hand lazily, infernal energy swirling around him like a cloak of blood and darkness. "Is this what you call attacks?" he muttered, his voice soft but filled with godlike contempt.

The combined storm of destruction closed in. Hermes’s halberd, President William’s spear, the Absolute Sword Palace Master’s thousand swords, and the Eternal Sun Guild Master’s burning sun all converged with unstoppable momentum. The entire sky of the Bright Buddha Palace glowed with blinding brilliance, as if the heavens themselves had been split apart for this one strike.

Mark lifted his hand slowly, his red eyes gleaming with disdain. Infernal energy erupted from his body like a volcanic explosion, twisting the air, warping the light, and drowning out all other auras with its suffocating presence. His voice rumbled like thunder. "Infernal Domain."

At those words, the world around him changed. The air turned crimson, the clouds twisted into a ceiling of black fire, and the ground below warped into an endless sea of burning corpses. The battlefield itself bent to his will, becoming his personal domain of death and despair.

The halberd of battle was the first to strike. The phantom soldiers it carried screamed as they were swallowed by the crimson sea, their blades melting into ash before they could touch Mark. With a casual swipe of his hand, the massive halberd shattered into fragments of light, Hermes staggering back from the backlash, his veins bursting from the recoil.