lastwebnovel-app/content/novels/dimensional-keeper-all-my-skills-are-at-level-100/ch-1209.md

---
title: "Chapter 1202: Shock of the Century for MIKE"
slug: "ch-1209"
novel: "Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100"
number: 1209
views: 0
likes: 0
wordCount: 1200
createdAt: "2026-04-15"
---

A deep breath escaped his lips as he gathered his strength. A faint hum resonated in the air as the world seemed to dim around him. Then, a sharp, silver aura erupted from his body like a flash of moonlight cutting through the void. It wasn’t just energy—it was destruction wrapped in elegance.

The moment that aura appeared, the ground beneath his feet didn’t crumble or crack; it was erased entirely, leaving behind a clean void where the earth once existed.

Murmurs rippled through the surrounding geniuses. Even the golden-crowned ones who had seen countless battles felt a chill crawl up their spines.

"That’s... the second level concept of Killing Sword," someone whispered in disbelief. "No wonder he was confident enough to challenge Max."

But the shock didn’t end there. As the silver light intensified, the space around Mike began to twist subtly, faint distortions spreading outward in rippling waves. The air wavered as though reality itself was struggling to contain his power.

The two auras—sharp and silvery from the Killing Sword, and invisible yet suffocating from the Concept of Space—began to intertwine like two predators circling each other before merging into one.

The silver energy condensed around Mike’s sword arm, the edge of the blade now glowing brighter than starlight. Every inch of his weapon pulsed with lethal intent, and the surrounding distortions bent inward toward it, forming a deadly vortex that pulled in the nearby divine essence. The attack felt alive, as though it had its own will to destroy everything before it.

Even Nero, who had remained silent and composed through countless duels, narrowed his eyes slightly. The fusion of the second level Concept of Killing Sword and the fourth level Concept of Space wasn’t something many geniuses could achieve.

It demanded not only comprehension but also control—the ability to merge two opposite forces into a single devastating strike.

Mike’s gaze locked on Max. His breathing slowed, his pulse steadied, and his killing intent filled the entire platform. The next moment, he moved.

The world seemed to vanish. One instant he stood still, and the next he was in front of Max, his sword slashing downward in a single, fluid motion. The strike didn’t simply cut through the air—it cleaved through space itself. Every fragment of reality split apart under the sword’s edge, and the glow from the strike illuminated the entire crowd of geniuses like a silver sun.

Even before the attack landed, the geniuses watching felt their hearts tighten painfully in their chests. The air grew heavy, and for a moment, it seemed as though the entire realm trembled under the sheer force of that strike.

But Max didn’t move.

He didn’t even blink.

He stood there silently, his arms at his sides, watching the descending strike with calm detachment.

The geniuses surrounding the arena could hardly believe their eyes. None of them could understand why Max wasn’t dodging or defending.

Mike’s attack was devastating enough to erase half the battlefield if left unchecked, yet Max didn’t so much as lift a hand. He looked almost indifferent, as though the attack before him was nothing more than a light breeze brushing against his body.

The sword came down like a flash of silver lightning. It tore through the air with a deafening hum, space itself collapsing along the sword’s edge. The pressure of the attack crushed the ground below, and the ripples of power spread far enough to make even the strongest geniuses watching step back.

The combined force of the Killing Sword and the Concept of Space was enough to obliterate an entire region of the secret domain.

Mike’s strike aimed straight at Max’s left shoulder, intending to slice diagonally down through his body—from shoulder to waist. For a heartbeat, it seemed certain that Max would be cut in two.

But then something impossible happened.

The sword stopped.

There was no explosion, no clash, no burst of energy. It simply stopped moving the moment it came within a finger’s breadth of Max’s shoulder.

The fierce vibration of the blade vanished, the killing intent dispersed, and the space distortions that surrounded it dissolved as though they had never existed. Mike’s entire attack—the second-level Concept of Killing Sword fused with the fourth-level Concept of Space—was undone in an instant.

The sword that had moments ago carried the power to collapse reality now looked ordinary, its brilliance gone, its intent dead. It hung limply in the air, powerless.

Mike’s eyes widened. Shock and disbelief filled his face as his body trembled slightly. "How... how is this possible?" he muttered under his breath. His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, but his instincts screamed danger. His heart pounded violently against his chest as a suffocating chill began to rise around him.

He wanted to step back. He wanted to move. But before he could, Max finally lifted his head.

"Your mastery is crude," Max said softly, his tone emotionless. "The second level of Killing Sword and the fourth level of Space. Not bad—but too shallow."

The air around Max shimmered. A faint golden-white light flickered through his eyes as the space near him bent slightly. A surge of energy spread from his body, and the fabric of space stabilized instantly under his control. Mike’s distorted domain collapsed entirely, unable to withstand the pressure.

Max’s mastery over the fourth-level Concept of Space—Spatial Collapse—was several realms above Mike’s. His understanding was fluid, refined, and absolute.

But that wasn’t all. At the same time, a subtle sword intent began to gather around Max’s right hand. The Severing Sword, the fourth-level concept he had mastered in the Tomb of the Sword Saint, began to take form.

The aura around Max wasn’t sharp or aggressive—it was clean, pure, and terrifying in its precision. It didn’t just cut matter or space; it severed intent itself. Mike’s Killing Sword concept couldn’t even exist near it. The moment his sword entered Max’s range, the Severing Sword erased all foreign concepts, leaving only silence.

That was why Mike’s attack had failed.

That was why his sword turned useless.

Before Mike could comprehend what had happened, a wave of cold energy erupted from Max’s body. A white, icy aura enveloped him completely. The temperature dropped so suddenly that frost formed in the air.

Mike barely had time to widen his eyes before his entire body froze solid. From his feet upward, ice spread rapidly, crawling over his limbs, torso, and face until he was completely encased in a block of glittering white frost.

"You shouldn’t have challenged me," Max said quietly, stepping closer. "And you shouldn’t have sneaked attacked me."

He raised a finger and flicked it lightly.

The ice shattered.

Mike’s body broke into countless crystalline fragments that sparkled for a brief moment under the light before scattering into the wind. Silence followed. The entire arena went still. Not a single genius dared to breathe too loudly.

Where Mike once stood, only the faint shimmer of divine energy remained. A golden crown detached itself from the air and floated gently upward before settling above Max’s head beside the other two. The light of three crowns illuminated him, their glow reflecting in his calm, unreadable eyes.