lastwebnovel-app/content/novels/dimensional-keeper-all-my-skills-are-at-level-100/ch-303.md

---
title: "Chapter 303: Amara Moyer"
slug: "ch-303"
novel: "Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100"
number: 303
views: 0
likes: 0
wordCount: 1065
createdAt: "2026-04-13"
---

"There are still six spots."

Old Man Grey's voice rang out again, firm and commanding.

Then—

A clear, crisp female voice cut through the air.

"Me."

Max's gaze shifted as Amara Moyer from the North Region stepped forward.

The moment she moved—

Chaos erupted.

Several young geniuses immediately scrambled forward, desperate to join the squad.

A blur of bodies, each one rushing like madmen, as if the Mourning Depths were a secondary concern.

And just like that—Old Man Grey's squad was instantly full.

Actually—overfull.

There was even one extra.

Max stood there, watching it all unfold.

His expression?

Utterly speechless.

"Seriously?"

Even now—even here—some people still had the state of mind to chase after girls?

Wasn't the Mourning Depths a death trap?

Yet, these idiots were treating it like a dating contest.

"This is just ridiculous."

But as Max thought about it more carefully—it made sense.

Amara wasn't just anyone.

She was from the North.

More importantly—she belonged to the Witch faction.

In terms of status and background, she surpassed even Crown Prince Aelric.

A rare existence among geniuses.

And the rumors?

They were even crazier.

Some said she was the daughter of the Witch of the North.

A claim never confirmed nor denied.

To most of these young geniuses, this wasn't about love.

This was about power.

If one of them could win Amara's heart, marry her…

Then resources, status, and influence would be at their fingertips.

Who cared about feelings?

Most of the young men throwing themselves forward weren't weak.

They were A or B rank class holders.

Talented. Skilled.

But their backgrounds were average.

Not weak, but not noble enough to compete with the true monsters of their generation.

Amara, on the other hand?

She was a gate to greatness.

A ticket to a life they could never reach on their own.

And so—they pursued her.

Not for her.

But for what she represented.

Max observed the situation closely.

The sheer eagerness of the young geniuses. The subtle tension in the air.

And then—it all clicked.

This wasn't random.

This was politics. Strategy. A calculated move.

Crown Prince Aelric was more outstanding than Amara.

That was undisputed.

If the match had been purely about strength, then Aelric would have been her ideal candidate.

But—he was untouchable.

Why?

Because he was destined to rule the West Region.

If he married into the North Region, it would be impossible for him to claim his rightful throne.

His duty was to carry on the legacy of the West.

Thus—the idea of him becoming part of the Witch faction was laughable.

Even if he and Amara somehow married, it wouldn't be him joining her faction.

It would be her who would move to the West.

And that?

That would completely overturn the power system of the entire Valora Continent.

A shift too drastic. Too unstable.

It simply wasn't an option.

On the other hand…

If Amara chose one of her pursuers, things would be entirely different.

She would stay in the North.

And whoever won her favor would join the Witch faction.

Not just gaining political power—but also gaining access to resources beyond imagination.

If that person was an A or B rank class powerhouse, then the North Region would gain another powerful warrior in the future.

And that was the goal.

The Witch faction wasn't looking for a husband for Amara.

They were looking for a tool.

A future powerhouse who would swear loyalty to them—under the guise of love.

Between these two paths—

Marrying Aelric and destabilizing the entire continent.

Marrying a strong genius and securing another powerhouse for the North.

The better choice was clear.

This was why the young men of Valora Continent were throwing themselves at Amara.

They weren't fools.

They had calculated the opportunity.

Winning Amara's favor meant leaping past hundreds of years of struggle.

It was a shortcut to power.

A once-in-a-lifetime chance to change their fate.

Max quickly connected the dots.

He wasn't surprised anymore.

In fact—

This whole situation was perfectly reasonable.

"So that's how it is."

He had seen power plays before.

This?

This was just another game.

And Max?

He had no interest in playing it.

If these fools wanted to waste their time chasing status through marriage, let them.

The Mourning Depths wouldn't care who they were married to.

And in the end—

Only strength mattered.

"There's one too many!"

Old Man Grey's voice carried a hint of irritation.

His sharp gaze swept over the group, landing on the last person to step forward.

A young genius who had scrambled to get into the team at the last second.

Realizing the problem, the young man turned toward Max with a forced, friendly smile.

"Hey, brother, could you help me out here and…"

His voice was polite, but his eyes held expectation.

He wanted Max to step out voluntarily.

Max found this hilarious.

'I don't even know this guy. On what basis would I give up my spot for him?'

His lips twitched.

'Does he think kindness exists in the Mourning Depths?'

Before Max could even respond, Old Man Grey cut in.

"You talk too much!"

Old Man Grey's voice hardened.

His expression darkened slightly, filled with impatience.

Then, without hesitation, he pointed at the last genius.

"According to order, you will step out!"

A firm decision. No room for negotiation.

The moment the words fell—

The young genius stiffened.

Like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over him.

His face twisted with frustration, disappointment—but he didn't argue.

Instead, he lowered his head and stepped back.

Max didn't even spare him another glance.

Instead his gaze flickered over the remaining team members.

His mind quickly assessed their strength.

Almost all of them were between level 1 and level 5 of the Seeker Rank.

Far from weak.

But also—far from truly strong.

They were leagues below the true leaders of the Valora Continent.

Max's fingers tapped against his chin.

'Interesting. If I'm in the same squad as these people, it's actually better for me.'

If the team had been full of powerhouses, then conflict would have been inevitable.

But with this mix of overly ambitious geniuses?

They would be easier to control.

Amara had unintentionally filled the squad with her admirers.

And Max?

He wasn't complaining.

'Well… I guess I should thank her for this.'

A smirk played at the corner of his lips.