lastwebnovel-app/content/novels/dimensional-keeper-all-my-skills-are-at-level-100/ch-622.md

---
title: "Chapter 622: Remnants of the Devil God Nation"
slug: "ch-622"
novel: "Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100"
number: 622
views: 0
likes: 0
wordCount: 1245
createdAt: "2026-04-15"
---

’What’s going on?’ Max was truly shaken now, his thoughts racing. ’Is this done by Mark? Or is he here right now?’ That was the only explanation that made sense. After all, the infernal energy coursing through his body—powerful and chaotic—had originated from Mark himself.

Only Mark’s presence could make it react like this, roaring with instinctive rage and fear like a wild animal recognizing its master—or its executioner.

"Everyone! Step back!" Max shouted with urgency, his voice sharp and laced with anxiety. The crowd instantly obeyed, sensing the gravity in his tone. They quickly retreated to the far end of the hall, fear flickering in their eyes.

Max narrowed his gaze at the four puppet-like figures at the entrance—Nortan, and the three Commandants. "I killed all four of them before," he said firmly to Elias and Aria, not taking his eyes off the walking corpses.

"Are you sure?" Elias asked with a deep frown. His eyes darkened as he stared at the figures, his fingers tightening around his sword. "They don’t look very dead."

"I’m very sure," Max replied coldly. "But just in case—they’ll die again."

With that, Max raised his hand. A wave of mana surged out as he activated his Magic Sword Barrage skill. In an instant, hundreds of glowing blue swords formed in the air around him, each one buzzing with condensed energy. They shot forward in a storm, like a meteor rain of death, all aimed at the lifeless figures standing still.

But just before impact, the four bodies suddenly dissolved into pools of thick, red blood, completely evading the attacks. The swords pierced nothing but empty air, crashing into the floor behind.

"What?" Max’s eyes widened in disbelief, stunned by what he had just seen.

Even Elias and Aria were speechless, staring at the pools of blood as if seeing a nightmare unfold. The blood rippled unnaturally... then, just as suddenly as they had appeared, the pools faded into nothingness—evaporating like mist under the morning sun.

"It’s gone," Elias muttered, frowning deeply. His voice was hollow, shaken. "This... this is one of the most disturbing things I’ve ever seen."

Aria looked around warily. "What was that? That was no illusion. I could feel the aura from them—real aura."

Only Max remained still, his Three Dimensional Body fully activated, scanning every corner, every shadow of the hall with his heightened awareness. But there was nothing. No blood. No presence. Not even a single lingering wisp of energy. It was like they had never been there in the first place.

’My infernal energy has also calmed down,’ Max thought, narrowing his eyes as he felt the storm within him go still. The same seething infernal energy that had surged with chaos just moments ago had now returned to silence, as if nothing had ever happened.

The strange pressure had vanished the instant those four figures—whatever they truly were—disappeared. ’If this wasn’t Mark’s doing, then what else could possibly make my infernal energy react so violently?’ The question rang through his head.

But he soon let out a quiet breath, scanning his own body inwardly. There it was—his infernal energy, no longer wild, but obedient and still, flowing in perfect harmony with the rest of his powers. Controlled. Contained. Fully under the dominance of his Unholy Trinity Body.

The twelve-layered infernal demon tattoo etched across his right hand palm, once the very thing that regulated this energy, now served merely as a symbol—an echo of his past self.

He didn’t need it anymore. The infernal energy wasn’t something borrowed, something sealed within him by external force. Not anymore. It was his now. As natural to him as mana. As blood.

In the time Max spent inside the Tower of Truth, immersed in relentless training, he began to notice something profound—his control over the infernal energy was becoming increasingly refined with every passing moment.

What had once been a violent, unpredictable force within him had started to move at his command, responding not with resistance, but with obedience.

At first, he thought it was just familiarity or adaptation or his relentless training of not losing control to it that allowed the slow control over it, but the deeper he delved into his power, the more he began to understand it was due to the true nature of his Unholy Trinity Body.

His physique wasn’t just a vessel—that could hold all types of energy—it was a dominator, a sovereign force that could assert absolute control over any type of energy, so long as that energy remained within him for a prolonged period of time.

That realization struck him like a lightning bolt. The infernal energy, once a wild beast tethered only by the demonic seal of the twelve-layered infernal demon tattoo, had slowly but surely become part of him.

Not borrowed. Not restricted. His. Just like mana, just like every breath of strength he used. The tattoo that once kept the infernal energy bound and manageable had lost all meaning—it was no longer the master, no longer the key.

Over time, with discipline and his body’s natural evolution, the seal had become nothing more than a relic. Max now wielded infernal energy as easily as he did mana, manipulating it with the same fluidity and ease, the same sharpness and precision.

He didn’t just control it anymore. He commanded it.

And yet, despite that complete control... despite that unity... it had gone berserk.

Max’s brows furrowed in confusion.

If it wasn’t Mark, then what was it?

He stood there, silent and still, a figure of calm, but his thoughts swirled in relentless doubt. ’Was it a remnant? A fragment? A projection of Mark’s will? Or something even older than him? Something buried deep in the roots of citadel itself?’

Whatever it was, it had been enough to shake the foundations of the infernal energy that was now part of Max’s very being.

And that was not something he could ignore.

"Do you know something about it?" Aria asked, her voice cautious as she watched the solemn expression darken Max’s face. Something about his silence unsettled her—like he was connecting threads no one else could see.

Max slowly shook his head. "I have no idea what exactly that was," he admitted, his tone calm but heavy. "But let me ask you this—do you think it could be related to the Devil God Bloodline?"

The moment those words left his mouth, Aria’s expression visibly changed. She wasn’t surprised he knew—deep down, she had expected it. Only Silus had knowledge of the Devil God Bloodline and the secrets of the five stages of the citadel aside from her and Elias.

From the looks of it, Max had gotten his hands on all those information from Silus somehow. She sighed, resigning herself to the fact that Max had likely extracted everything already.

"It could be," she finally said after a long pause, her voice quieter than before. "The Devil God Nation was infamous for its demonic rituals—things that involved blood sacrifices, body mutilation, soul tampering... even corpse reanimation. Whatever happened just now—it had all the signs. The black eyes, the blood dissolving, the sudden disappearance—it wasn’t natural. And since this is the citadel left behind by Divine King Atherion, who once ruled the Devil God Nation, I wouldn’t be surprised if remnants of those twisted practices still linger here. So yes... it’s more or less true. That might very well be part of the Devil God Bloodline’s legacy."