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| title | slug | novel | number | views | likes | wordCount | createdAt |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Chapter 948: Lotus Bloom | ch-954 | Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 | 954 | 0 | 0 | 1027 | 2026-04-15 |
The raw energy from devouring the four Wraiths of the World churned within him, so immense it felt as though his body might rupture under the pressure. Yet his Unholy Trinity Body held it all in perfect balance, suppressing the chaos, keeping every wisp of power obedient and still—like a predator waiting for the moment to strike.
"He... he survived the fourth Wraith of the World," someone in the crowd finally whispered, their voice trembling as if saying it out loud made it real.
"Yeah... and not just survived," another added, eyes wide in disbelief. "He fought it head-on... and won."
"Four wraiths... four different concepts... all at such a high level... how is that even possible?" a middle-aged expert muttered, clutching his robes like he needed something solid to keep himself from falling.
"This is insane," a younger disciple said, his voice cracking. "Each wraith alone is enough to wipe out most of the peak powers in the Middle Domain. He’s not just strong—he’s..."
"...a monster," another finished, swallowing hard. "A monster in human form."
"Wait—look!" a sharp voice rang out from the left side of the crowd, cutting through the stunned murmurs. Fingers pointed upward. "The clouds... they’re dispersing!"
Heads turned in unison. The sky, which had been choked in black, oppressive clouds for so long, was finally loosening its grip. The rolling mass was breaking apart, slow at first, then faster, as light began to filter through in fractured beams.
"By the heavens..." someone gasped. "It’s over."
"It really is..." another said, almost in awe, like they couldn’t believe the nightmare had ended.
And yet, despite the dispersing darkness, everyone’s eyes were still on the lone figure in the sky—Max—who stood as if untouched by the impossible storm he had just endured.
Palace Master Howard of the Absolute Sword Palace let out a long breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding. "Four wraiths... and he overcame all of them," he said slowly, his tone carrying equal parts disbelief and admiration. "In the history of the Middle Domain, this has never happened."
He added head with a bitter laugh. "I thought I’d seen all kinds of madmen in my life, but this... this boy makes them all look tame. To face four wraiths, each stronger than the last, and still be standing—either he’s insane, or he’s the closest thing to a miracle I’ve ever seen."
President William’s face was a mask of satisfaction, his lips curling into a smile. "This era... just got interesting," he said, his eyes never leaving Max. "The heavens might have tried to erase him, but instead, they polished him into something far more dangerous."
Emperor Hermes clenched his fists, the pride in his eyes undisguised. "I thought his survival against the first wraith was already a gift from fate," he admitted. "But now... he’s turned fate into his own weapon."
The tiger-masked leader of the Obsidian Order stood in silence for a long moment before finally speaking. "To think... four concepts, all at the third level now," he said quietly, his voice carrying a strange mix of solemnity and intrigue. "This boy... if left unchecked, will rewrite the rules of this world."
Even the old man with the long white beard, the calm and composed leader of the Bright Buddha Palace, allowed a faint smile to tug at his lips. "For one so young to endure such trials and emerge victorious... it is both rare and dangerous," he murmured. "But perhaps... necessary. The peace in the Middle Domain is about to end..."
Nobody heard his last few words.
But there were some who weren’t happy with Max’s survival at all.
Thunder Lord of the Thunder Monarch Hall narrowed his eyes, the faintest trace of a cruel smile curling at his lips. "Survived? Good. That means he’s still breathing for me to kill," he said coldly, his tone dripping with venom. "A genius like that... if allowed to grow, he’ll become a threat to every force here. Best to cut the weed before it becomes a tree."
The Tower Lord of the Void Soul Tower let out a low, humorless chuckle, his gaze sharp and malicious. "Hmph. I can already see it—sooner or later, the entire Middle Domain will be bowing before him if he’s not stopped. But accidents happen... especially to those who stand too high, too fast." His eyes glinted with killing intent as he continued, "And when that fall comes, I’ll make sure it’s a long drop, with no ground to land on."
Their voices were spoken via voice transmission, yet laced with enough venom to chill the air.
As if feeling the cold, razor-sharp intent aimed his way, Max’s eyes slowly shifted toward the Thunder Lord of the Thunder Monarch Hall and the Tower Lord of the Void Soul Tower.
Both men were staring at him—not with admiration, but with a venomous edge that could strip flesh from bone. Their expressions were calm on the surface, but in their gazes burned the kind of malice reserved for enemies one wanted erased from existence.
’These two...’ Max’s brow furrowed heavily, his instincts screaming a warning. He could sense it—if given the chance, they wouldn’t hesitate to strike him down, regardless of the consequences.
Just then, Blob’s voice echoed in his mind, calm but laced with an odd satisfaction. "Look at your Divine Path Lotus... You have already bloomed six lotus petals."
Max blinked and instinctively looked up. Suspended above him, the ethereal lotus swayed gently in the air, its petals glowing faintly with an otherworldly light. And there it was—six distinct petals, each shimmering with a faint law resonance, like ripples spreading through the fabric of reality itself.
The sight made the surrounding spiritual energy stir in response, as though acknowledging the magnitude of his achievement.
Even for Max, it was a moment worth pausing for.
President William’s gaze lingered on the lotus above Max’s head, his tone calm yet carrying a hint of awe. "Six petals... for a first awakening, that’s already beyond extraordinary. The average genius blooms three, perhaps four or five if they’re blessed by fortune. To reach six means his foundation is good."