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---
title: "Chapter 210: An Opportunity"
slug: "ch-210"
novel: "Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100"
number: 210
views: 0
likes: 0
wordCount: 1427
createdAt: "2026-04-13"
---

Max turned—

Envoy Lucas.

Two figures followed behind him.

A young man with green hair. A young woman with black hair.

Both appeared to be in their twenties.

Their presence alone carried weight.

And just like that—

The air shifted.

All eyes in the Villa turned toward them.

"Oh, don’t get me wrong."

Envoy Lucas spread his hands, his tone light—yet edged with something more.

"I mean, you’re quite confident for someone at Level 7 of the Apprentice Rank."

Max narrowed his eyes.

Then blinked.

"With all due respect, Envoy Lucas, haven’t you watched my battles on the Extranet?"

Lucas’s smirk deepened.

"I have. But there’s a difference between the peak geniuses of Valora Continent and the geniuses from the Lost Continent."

"Oh?"

Max’s gaze drifted—

To the two young figures standing behind the Envoy.

Their auras alone were enough to tell him—

Peak Level 10 of the Adept Rank.

Just like the top geniuses of Valora Continent.

His eyes flickered as he turned back to Lucas.

"Are they…?"

Lucas chuckled heartily.

"Hehe, yes. Allow me to introduce you—

Harry Scott and Lyla Briggs."

Both young geniuses stepped forward, their eyes assessing him.

"It’s nice to meet you, Max."

They extended their hands.

Max smiled, his grip firm as he shook theirs.

A simple greeting—

But in that moment—

Max realized.

They weren’t just shaking hands.

They were testing him.

Harry was first.

The green-haired genius clasped Max’s hand, his grip tightening immediately.

His smirk widened, eyes locked onto Max—waiting for a reaction.

But—

Nothing.

Max’s face remained blank. Unmoved.

Harry’s brows furrowed.

Frustrated, he increased the pressure.

Still—

Nothing.

Just the same calm, indifferent stare from Max.

’Damn this guy.’

Cursing inwardly, Harry finally pulled his hand away.

Max sneered internally.

’Making me feel anything with my 300 Dragon Scales? Next to impossible.’

Max turned to Lyla next.

Their hands met—

And once again, he felt it.

The test.

Lyla channeled her mana, pressing her Peak Adept Rank energy into the handshake.

But—

Max simply smiled.

Unfazed. Unbothered.

Lyla’s eyes narrowed.

Then—

She pulled her hand away.

A silent acknowledgment.

Max chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with a wry smile.

"Oh, I forgot to introduce myself."

His gaze flickered between them.

"I’m Max Morgan."

"So, do you think you can win against them?"

Envoy Lucas asked directly, his gaze locked onto Max.

Max appreciated the bluntness.

At least he wasn’t scheming behind his back, trying to manipulate him into a fight.

Max smiled. "I can fight them."

Then, he shrugged.

"But why would I? It would be pointless."

The words hit harder than expected.

Lyla’s expression darkened.

Her voice dropped, filled with cold disdain. "What do you mean pointless? Do you think we aren’t strong enough?"

She didn’t ask out of curiosity.

She asked because she was offended.

As someone from the Lost Continent, she had always looked down on Valora Continent’s so-called geniuses.

There was no reason for it.

They were just weak.

Too weak.

Max glanced at Lyla, shaking his head.

"You’re overthinking it. What I meant was… this battle is pointless for me because I’m not gaining anything from fighting you two."

Lyla scoffed. "Something in return? You should be honored to even be given a chance to battle us."

Max let out a wry smile.

’These Lost Continent geniuses are beyond arrogant… even words of reason don’t reach them.’

He shrugged. "Honor means nothing if you really think about it."

"You—!"

Lyla’s expression twisted. Her patience snapped.

She looked ready to explode when—

"How about I handle this?"

Envoy Lucas stepped in.

Lyla hesitated, then obediently stepped back.

Lucas turned his attention to Max, his gaze sharp.

"So, what do you want in exchange for a battle with Harry and Lyla?"

Max smiled.

A mysterious, knowing smile.

"What do I want?"

His eyes gleamed.

"Now that’s an interesting question."

Max pondered for a moment.

Then—

He smiled. "How about this—let me join you when you explore the Mourning Depths?"

A direct offer. A clear condition.

"Heh."

Envoy Lucas chuckled, amusement flickering in his eyes.

"Now that’s an interesting request… a good one, too."

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He paused, considering.

Then, his smirk deepened.

"How about this? If you manage to defeat both Harry and Lyla, I’ll personally allow you to join our expedition team in the West."

Max’s smile widened.

"Then we have a deal. And I hope the words of Envoy Lucas aren’t taken lightly."

Lucas laughed. "Don’t worry, kid. If I go back on my word here, I wouldn’t be able to show my face again, would I?"

Satisfied, Max nodded.

Then—

He turned to Harry and Lyla.

His gaze sharp. His intent clear.

"Shall we start?"

"Not here… You’ll battle outside."

Envoy Lucas smiled, turning to lead the way.

The crowd followed.

Excitement buzzed in the air.

A battle between Max and the Lost Continent’s geniuses—it wasn’t something anyone wanted to miss.

But the moment they stepped outside the Villa—

Everyone froze.

Five figures stood waiting.

Silent. Unmoving.

Max’s gaze sharpened. His instincts flared.

Then—

His eyes landed on one of them.

Recognition hit him instantly.

It was Five.

One of the Monarch’s people.

Which meant—

All five of them were the Monarch’s men.

"You all must be from the Central Region… the Monarch, right?"

Envoy Lucas smiled, his gaze sweeping over them.

"I’m very curious—what business do you all have with me here?"

Of the five figures, one stood out.

The strongest.

His dark blue hair flowed slightly in the breeze, his stance confident, his presence oppressive.

Level 1 Seeker Rank.

A deep sneer curled on his face as he stepped forward.

"You must be the Envoy."

His voice was steady, yet dripping with contempt.

"The Young Monarch sends his greetings."

Then—

His gaze shifted.

No longer on Lucas.

But on Max.

A smirk formed.

"But I’m not here for you."

He lifted his hand, pointing directly at Max.

"I’m here for him."

Max already had a feeling they were here for him.

"What does the Monarch want this time?"

Aurelia stepped forward, placing herself between Max and the blue-haired young man.

Her eyes were cold.

The young man simply smiled.

"Nothing bad, actually."

His gaze flickered toward Max, amusement glinting in his eyes.

"The Young Monarch wants to give Max… an opportunity."

Aurelia frowned.

She didn’t like where this was going. Not one bit.

"What opportunity?" Her voice was sharp, edged with suspicion.

The blue-haired man’s smirk widened.

"It’s simple."

His tone was calm. Too calm.

"Max and I will have a battle. If he wins, then no one from the Monarch will come for him for an entire year."

He let the words hang in the air.

Then—

His smirk deepened.

"But if he loses… I will kill him."

Silence.

It crashed over the gathering, heavy and unyielding.

No one spoke. No one moved.

The weight of the proposal suffocated the air.

On one hand—

A full year of peace.

A chance for Max to grow, to train without the Monarch’s shadow looming over him.

But on the other—

Death.

No second chances. No alternatives.

A battle where the only two outcomes were—

Temporary reprieve… or absolute finality.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

Realization set in.

Some exchanged uneasy glances. Others turned their eyes toward Max—

Waiting. Watching.

What would he do?

Anton’s expression darkened, fists clenching.

"That’s a ridiculous bet."

Beside him, Bruce narrowed his eyes.

"And what guarantee do we have that you’ll keep your word?"

The blue-haired man smirked, his confidence unwavering.

"The Monarch do not break their word. If Max wins, I swear on my name—not a single one of us will touch him for an entire year."

His gaze sharpened, locking onto Max.

The amusement in his eyes shifted—

Into something colder. More dangerous.

"But let’s be honest… that won’t happen."

The arrogance in his voice was absolute. Unshaken. Unquestioning.

He spoke as if Max’s loss was inevitable.

Aurelia’s frown deepened.

On one hand, this was an opportunity.

If Max won, not only would he be safe, but the Phoenix Order Guild would also nothave anything do with the Monarch.

But if he lost—

There was only death.

She sighed, shaking her head.

Then turned to Max.

"Your call. But let me warn you—never trust a promise from the Monarch."

The air grew heavier.

All eyes fell on Max.

For the first time, he exhaled.

Then—

He stepped forward.

His expression unreadable.

His voice calm.

"A battle where I get one year of peace… or die trying?"