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| title | slug | novel | number | views | likes | wordCount | createdAt |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Chapter 494: Witch of the North | ch-494 | Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 | 494 | 0 | 0 | 1250 | 2026-04-13 |
Max looked around, confused and weightless, trying to make sense of the surreal place, when his gaze was drawn to the center of it all.
There, sitting atop a large velvet armchair that floated like a throne among the clutter, was a woman dressed entirely in black—long coat, black boots, and a tilted black hat that cast a mysterious shadow over her face.
Her bright green hair glowed unnaturally in the pinkish light, flowing down her shoulders with a soft, otherworldly shimmer. Her posture was poised and relaxed, but there was a cold, commanding presence about her that made Max instinctively wary.
She turned her head slowly in his direction, her eyes narrowing with interest, and a ripple—like the surface of disturbed water—flashed across them. "Is that the kid, Lucien?" she asked, her voice low and melodic.
"Yeah," Lucien answered, appearing beside Max with a casual tone. "He’s the one with the soul problem."
A moment later, as if pulled by an unseen force, both Max and Lucien drifted gently through the pink-tinged air toward the woman at the center. Without ever flapping a wing or touching the ground, they floated until they landed softly before her. The surreal space pulsed with quiet energy, but it was her voice that cut through it all.
"Sit down," she said, her eyes still fixed on Max with an unsettling calm.
The words hadn’t even fully left her mouth before Lucien suddenly found himself seated in a plush chair that had materialized beneath him.
Max, however, remained standing—right beside her. He didn’t speak. Neither did she. Instead, her hand slowly reached out toward his forehead, and although his instincts screamed otherwise, Max didn’t resist.
Her fingers lightly touched his skin, and for a moment, a cold chill traveled down his spine—like someone had just opened a doorway inside his soul.
"Hmm..." she murmured with the faintest smile. "Your Yin Soul is missing. Only the Yang Soul remains... and it’s just barely sustaining your physical form. How fascinating." Her tone was calm, but it held a dark kind of glee that twisted in Max’s gut. Then she turned to Lucien, her grin widening in amusement. "You were right. This one... could make a remarkable test subject."
Max’s eyes narrowed instantly, a sense of danger screaming in his head. He took a sharp step back, instinctively putting distance between them.
"Relax," she said with a chuckle, her voice like silk wrapped around a dagger. "I won’t break you. Not yet, anyway."
She leaned back slightly in her strange throne of floating cushions and fabric. Her eyes, glowing faintly under the brim of her black hat, didn’t leave Max for even a second as she spoke, her voice dripping with curiosity and dark delight. "I’ve never seen someone like you before. Truly, look at you—alive and kicking."
She smiled, but there was something eerie behind it. "I’ve encountered many people missing one half of their soul. Most of them with only the Yang or the Yin soul usually crumble in a matter of days. A week at most. But you..."
She tilted her head slightly, almost admiringly. "From what I can tell, it’s been years since your Yin soul disappeared. And yet here you are—completely functional. That alone makes you fascinating."
Max didn’t react to her praise. His voice remained calm, polite, focused. "Can you solve this problem?"
He didn’t care for her compliments or twisted fascination. If he couldn’t restore his soul, he couldn’t progress any further. He would be stuck in the peak of Adept Rank forever for the moment he level up to Seeker Rank, his Yang Soul would crumble under his exponential increase in strength and he would die.
And if he couldn’t progress, he couldn’t face Drevon again—and next time, he didn’t plan to lose.
"I can," she said almost casually.
Before he could respond, Max’s body was suddenly pulled forward through the air—teleported right in front of her in the blink of an eye. Her hands, cool and precise, ran lightly from his chin down to his neck as if she were feeling for something under the skin, examining the spiritual damage with her touch rather than her magic.
A shiver raced down Max’s spine. Instinctively, he floated backward, breaking free of her hand. ’What’s up with this woman?!’ he thought, trying to mask the discomfort crawling up his back.
But she only laughed softly, the kind of laugh that made it clear she knew exactly how unsettling she was. "Relax, little genius," she said. "I’m just measuring what’s broken... so I know how to put you back together."
Max clenched his jaw and stepped forward, forcing down the instinct to retreat. The Witch of the North watched him with that faint, unsettling smile, her gloved fingers rising again—this time, gently resting on his chest, right above his heart.
Max didn’t notice the soft pink glow that shimmered beneath her palm, a glowing rune forming and pulsing faintly on his skin like a marking of ownership, but Lucien did. His brows furrowed immediately, his eyes darkening, yet he stayed silent, watching.
Her expression changed slightly, a glimmer of amusement and understanding passing through her eyes as she peered at Max more intently. "I see..." she murmured, pulling her hand back slowly as the rune vanished. Her eyes met Max’s once again. "I can’t help your soul problem."
The words struck like a hammer.
"What? You can’t?!" Max’s voice broke through the stillness, and his heart sank fast. For a moment, despair rose in his chest like a flood. After everything—after hoping, after placing his last chance here...
But then her chilling smile returned, and her voice followed like silk hiding razors. "Don’t get worked up, little genius." She leaned back, eyes sharp. "I said I can’t fix your soul, yes... but I never said I can’t help with the effects of your broken soul."
Max’s breath caught.
"You see," she continued, her voice smooth and steady, "when you level up to Seeker Rank, your Yang Soul—being the only part holding your entire existence together—will collapse under the strain. And when it does... you’ll die. Painfully, quickly." Her grin widened slightly. "But I can change that. I can stabilize your Yang Soul, no matter how strong you become. Whether you reach Seeker or something far beyond, your soul will remain intact—until the moment we find the solution for your soul problem."
Lucien, sitting calmly silently beside them, narrowed his eyes.
"You can do that?" Max asked, his voice tinged with disbelief, yet a flicker of hope danced in his eyes.
For so long, the issue of his fractured soul had loomed over him like a silent curse. He hadn’t truly realized the severity of it—he had lived nearly seven years without his Yin Soul and, aside from the occasional, unexplained waves of fatigue and weakness, there hadn’t been anything drastic to worry about.
But after knowing that advancing to Seeker Rank would cause his very soul to collapse, could cause him to die, he understood the danger that had been quietly threatening him all along.
Still, if this woman, the infamous Witch of the North, could truly stabilize his remaining Yang Soul and eliminate the risk of soul strain from advancing in strength, then... then maybe the problem wasn’t as devastating as it once seemed.
Maybe, just maybe, he could finally grow stronger like everyone else—without chains holding him back, without the constant fear that his next breakthrough might kill him.