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| title | slug | novel | number | views | likes | wordCount | createdAt |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Chapter 244: A Sword | ch-244 | Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 | 244 | 0 | 0 | 1047 | 2026-04-13 |
Norton’s fury boiled over, his brows furrowed deeply, eyes burning with barely contained rage. "Why are you going this far for someone you barely know?" His voice was sharp, demanding an answer.
Ralph merely shrugged, his expression indifferent. "I just don’t like what you’re doing."
His tone was casual, almost dismissive, but there was an undeniable weight behind his words. "Max made a mistake. He should be taught a lesson. But outright killing him? That accomplishes nothing."
Then, his lips curled slightly. A gleam flickered in his eyes—sharp, dangerous.
"Or…" Ralph tilted his head slightly, his voice smooth, taunting. "You can ignore me and kill him anyway."
The implication hung thick in the air.
Max stood still, watching everything unfold. His heart pounded.
He wasn’t blind to the reality of the situation—he was inches from death. One wrong move, one bad decision, and he’d be a corpse before he could even react.
But…
There was still hope.
Because Ralph was standing on his side.
And that meant—he still had a chance.
Norton’s face darkened. His rage simmered beneath the surface, barely contained.
He hadn’t expected this.
Someone from one of the Four Super Families—one of the true pillars of power in the East—siding with Max?
And he wasn’t the only one hesitating.
Kheonne’s grip on her blade tightened, her eyes flickering with doubt. She had brought the strongest geniuses of her family here, thinking they would have some exchange with the geniuses from the Lost Continent.
But now?
Now they were hostages.
One wrong move, and Ralph would wipe them out in an instant.
And for what? Max’s life?
It wasn’t worth it.
She let out a slow breath, her decision made.
"I’m backing down."
The words were final.
She withdrew the blade from Max’s neck, stepping away slowly, deliberately, toward her people.
"Kheonne!"
Norton’s shout exploded through the air, his frustration bleeding into fury. His plan was unraveling right in front of him.
But Kheonne only shook her head. "Are you willing to exchange the lives of your family’s geniuses just to kill Max?" Her voice was calm, firm. "If so, then go ahead."
Silence.
Norton’s hands clenched into fists. His jaw tightened as his gaze flickered—between Max, between the hostages, between the path of killing and the weight of reason.
His entire body radiated frustration.
"Have you all forgotten about me?"
A voice—calm, deep, laced with an unsettling confidence.
The masked man stepped forward, his presence alone shifting the atmosphere. Dark energy crackled around him. Black flames oozed from his form, twisting and writhing like living shadows.
Max exhaled, his shoulders loosening just slightly. Relief.
Norton, however, cursed under his breath. His lips pressed into a tight line, his patience hanging by a thread.
The masked man stopped in front of Max, standing tall between him and Norton. His voice carried a casual defiance.
"Norton, let’s not pretend." His head tilted slightly. "We all know you’re doing this just to earn favor with the Young Monarch."
His tone didn’t waver, didn’t rise. Controlled. Dangerous.
"But let’s be real."
The black flames flared, warping the air around them. The sheer pressure from his presence caused the ground beneath him to crack slightly.
"With us here, you can’t kill him. And at the very least—" his masked face turned toward Norton, his voice dropping to something darker, heavier—"I won’t let you kill him."
Silence.
Norton’s eyes locked onto the masked man. His gaze then flickered toward Max.
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Nobody could tell what he was thinking.
But the air tightened.
A single spark, a single wrong word, and this fragile moment would collapse into bloodshed.
"I will take Max away and give him the punishment he deserves."
Kate’s voice rang clear as she stepped forward, her tone calm but firm. She walked toward Max, her presence commanding yet controlled.
Norton’s gaze snapped to her, his expression unreadable, but his fingers twitched slightly—hesitation.
But before Kate could reach him—
A blur of movement.
Someone else appeared in front of Max.
Aurelia.
Her presence was like a quiet storm—unshaken, unyielding.
"Since Max is a member of the Phoenix Order Guild," she said smoothly, her voice steady, controlled. "I shall handle everything, including his punishment."
Her words were absolute.
Max frowned, his gaze lingering on Aurelia.
Something about her felt off.
She disappeared when Norton attacked and now she was here.
’What is she planning?’
Ever since they met, there had always been an air of mystery surrounding her, a feeling that she was hiding something—something deep.
He didn’t why he felt about her that way.
But he did.
Maybe it was related to her deduction of him being Freya’s brother.
Her suspicion.
And her speculations on what she had mentioned to him last month.
He knew it wasn’t enough to judge someone’s character.
Yet that was enough to tell him she wasn’t what she seemed.
There was more to Aurelia than she let on.
Much more.
"Aurelia, are you trying to get your guild exterminated or what?!"
Norton’s voice boomed, filled with fury. "You shouldn’t interfere in this matter!"
But Aurelia didn’t flinch.
She simply shook her head, her expression unreadable. "It doesn’t matter."
In one smooth motion, she reached into her storage ring and drew a sword.
A light blue blade, gleaming with a soft, eerie glow.
Max’s body tensed. Something felt wrong.
Then, she turned to him.
"Max, you have done something that brought calamity to the entire East Region, and that’s why…"
She paused.
Max frowned. Something about the way she said it… the way she stopped—
Before he could react—
PAIN.
Like a bolt of lightning searing through his body.
His breath hitched. His vision blurred.
Blood—warm, thick—spilled from his lips.
A sharp ache spread through his torso, radiating outward like an explosion.
His body froze.
Slowly, shakily, he looked down.
The blue sword was buried deep in his stomach.
His own blood dripped along the blade, pooling onto the ground.
His mind reeled.
No…
This wasn’t happening.
His hands trembled, reaching for the wound. He could feel the cold steel lodged deep inside him. Real. It was real.
His breath came in ragged gasps as he slowly lifted his head, forcing himself to look at Aurelia.
His voice was weak, strained. "Why…?"