---
title: "Chapter 496: Be with her till the end"
slug: "ch-496"
novel: "Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100"
number: 496
views: 0
likes: 0
wordCount: 1314
createdAt: "2026-04-13"
---

A sly smirk curled on the Witch of the North’s lips as she leaned ever so slightly toward him. "Oh my... You didn’t know about her connection to Max, like they were brother and sister? did you?" she teased, her voice laced with amusement and just the right amount of malice to make Lucien’s stomach twist.

His expression, so often nonchalant, instantly shifted into something far more serious—taut, tense—before sheer disbelief swept over him. "Don’t tell me..." he whispered, his voice barely holding its steadiness, "don’t tell me the little girl you mentioned in that story... was Freya?" He shot to his feet, eyes wide in stunned realization.

She nodded slowly, folding her arms as she leaned back into her chair. "Indeed, it was Freya. It’s been quite some time since I last laid eyes on her, but I remember it well. She told me about her revenge—about the fire burning in her bones. That little girl, she’s... different. Hollow, in a way. She doesn’t laugh, she doesn’t rest, she doesn’t even live for herself. She only moves toward one thing—vengeance. It consumes her. Drives her."

She sighed. "That’s why I recalled she left Max in the East Region with tempered memories hoping he wouldn’t awakened a good class and could live a peaceful life in the East Region unlike herself but I guess she has also prepared for a situation if he had awakened a good class leading to all of this. She also requested for me send some people to look after him before he awakens his class and I did but I was actually surprised by his growth speed. He truly is a genius."

But Lucien didn’t seem to hear anything.

He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing in place as the weight of that revelation settled in. The name Freya wasn’t just any name. She was the one he’d traveled with, fought alongside, shared silent moments of trust with—yet now, knowing she was the one tied so deeply to Max’s life, everything felt like it was collapsing inward.

The Witch watched him quietly, her gaze sharp, but not unkind. "I heard rumors about you two being quite the pair in the Four God Nation," she said casually. "But let me offer you a warning, Little Lucien... From the very beginning, her world has been painted in the colors of revenge. What she sees in you isn’t love or loyalty. What she sees is your strength, your potential, your usefulness. Don’t forget that." Her words lingered in the space like a knife left stuck in flesh—unmoving, but bleeding all the same.

Lucien took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, as if releasing the weight of the truth he had just been handed. "I know," he said quietly, but his voice carried a firm resolve. "I know she might be using me. I’ve known for a while now... but I will still follow her, wherever she goes."

His gaze drifted slightly, his eyes distant as though watching a memory unfold in the air. "I remember her telling me once—there are hundreds of thousands of worlds far greater than ours that exist beyond this one. Realms so vast and powerful that they would make everything we know seem like a joke. But the people of our world... they simply lack the strength to break through and ascend to them."

He paused, the memory replaying in his mind as if it were etched into his soul. "When I heard her say that, I was stunned. I mean, we’ve all heard the stories—the myths, the old texts, the cryptic prophecies—but hearing it from her... someone who had that clarity, that certainty... it made me believe it. The legends are true. There really are countless worlds out there. And our planet? Our entire Middle Domain? It’s just a speck of dust in the endless ocean of existence."

His expression shifted then—not to fear or hesitation, but something deeper. Determination. Ambition. A spark that had been ignited long ago, now blazing into a full flame.

"That’s why," he said firmly, "no matter if she’s using me or not... if following her leads me to that higher realm, to that world she spoke of, then I’ll go. Because maybe, just maybe... if I reach that world, I’ll finally be able to see the limit of my own potential. And maybe, I’ll find something there worth living for that isn’t just survival or revenge. For herself and for me." His voice grew quiet at the end, but it was steady—like a promise made not just to himself, but to the very stars that loomed beyond this small, bounded world.

He added, his voice lower now, filled with a quiet intensity that even the strange pink-hued world around them seemed to hush in response. "I don’t want her to die... I don’t want her to be consumed by revenge until there’s nothing left of her. I’ve seen that look in her eyes—the emptiness, the weight she carries like a shadow stitched to her soul. I know what it means to live with that kind of pain. I know what it does to someone."

He added clenching his fists. "And maybe that’s why I want something different for her. I want her to live a normal life, something neither of us ever really had. We were both thrown into this world, tossed into war and survival and things no child should’ve had to face. But if I can stand by her side, if I can be there—not just as a tool or a weapon she can use, but as someone who truly sees her—then maybe I can help carry that burden."

He said his expression completely serious. "I want to share her pain, her grief, her silence. Not to change her, not to save her from it, but just so she knows that when the day comes... when her revenge is done and there’s nothing left to fight for... she won’t be alone. There will be someone there, waiting for her. Someone who still sees her for more than just what the world made her become."

His gaze remained steady, not pleading, not desperate—just honest, as if he’d already accepted what may come, but still chose to stay.

The Witch of the North smiled faintly at Lucien’s words, her fingers tracing slow circles on the floating armrest of her chair as the pink-hued world around them remained oddly still, as if listening.

"Little Lucien, it seems you are truly in love with her," she said softly, almost wistfully. "I never thought the little boy I saved from those beasts back then would grow to be such a gentleman." Her voice carried a rare warmth, though it faded quickly back into her usual enigmatic calm.

Lucien didn’t respond to the compliment. He lowered his head slightly, his expression unreadable, his heart heavy with everything he had just admitted.

A few moments passed before he spoke again, his voice returning to a steadier, more curious tone.

"I heard your solution to Max’s problem... but I have to say, it seems impossible." He lifted his eyes to meet hers, serious and firm. "One’s soul, energy, and physique—these are the pillars that uphold a person’s strength. If someone’s rank increases, if their power rises, all three must evolve in harmony. That’s how every cultivation system, every path of power works in this world. So I don’t understand how you can say Max’s strength can increase endlessly without affecting his soul. How is that even possible?"

His voice wasn’t defiant but filled with genuine confusion and a touch of concern, not just for the logic of it but for Max himself. He had seen what damage could be done by reckless power when one part of a person’s foundation faltered, and the idea that someone like Max could bypass that entirely seemed... unnatural. Dangerous, even.