3ac2277146
6.4 KiB
| title | slug | novel | number | views | likes | wordCount | createdAt |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Chapter 451: Corrupted Infernal Energy | ch-451 | Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 | 451 | 0 | 0 | 1039 | 2026-04-13 |
Chapter 451: Corrupted Infernal Energy
“Lost my presence?” Max echoed aloud, his brows knitting together in surprise. It was no small thing for Xolo, the spirit of the Tower of Truth itself, to lose track of someone. The tower spirit was supposed to know every breath, every movement, every shift of energy within the tower’s walls—there was no hiding from it.
Unless… ‘Unless the Tomb of the Sword Saint isn’t actually inside the tower.’ The realization hit Max like a thunderbolt, and his eyes widened as dozens of questions immediately flooded his mind, each more urgent than the last.
How had he even gotten there? Was it only him? Or could anyone on the verge of comprehending a sword concept find themselves pulled into that ancient tomb?
Max pressed his fingers against his temple, thinking hard, piecing it together carefully. If the entire Chamber of Concepts had been located outside the tower, then surely he wouldn’t have been able to detect Alice’s presence earlier. Nor would he have sensed the other countless geniuses, each struggling to comprehend their own concepts, their auras distinct and active within the chamber’s domain.
‘No,’ he thought firmly. ‘The Chamber itself is still part of the Tower. Alice is still inside. The others are still inside. But where I went…’ He clenched his fists unconsciously as he slowly beginning to understand everything. The Tomb of the Sword Saint must be a hidden realm connected to the Chamber of Concepts—yet existing separately, beyond the tower’s true domain.
‘But it seems… only I was able to somehow access the Tomb of the Sword Saint.’ He thought back to everything he had experienced inside—the crushing pressure, the infinite graveyard of swords, the phantom of a man granting him the Concept of Severing Sword—and the more he thought about it, the more convinced he became.
It wasn’t coincidence. It wasn’t random. It had to be tied to him—tied to his existence as a Primordial-recognized being.
After all, the original master of the Tower of Truth had once told Max that being recognised by the Primordial Race was one of his greatest blessings.
‘It must have been that blessing…’ Max thought, a steely light flashing in his eyes. ‘The recognition of the Primordials… it gave me access to something even the other geniuses of the tower can never reach.’
“Xolo, have you heard of the Tomb of the Sword Saint?” Max asked carefully, just to be sure. His voice was calm, but inside, his mind was racing, trying to piece everything together.
“Tomb of the Sword Saint?” Xolo repeated, a deep frown forming in his tone. “I have indeed heard of it. It’s a legend often spoken about in the Middle Domain… but no one really knows if there’s any truth behind it. Some say it’s just a myth. No one has ever confirmed its existence.”
“I see,” Max nodded slightly, shaking his head in understanding.
‘Since even the tower spirit, who has existed for countless years and holds unimaginable knowledge of this place, has no idea about the connection of the tower to the Tomb of the Sword Saint…’ Max thought grimly, ‘then it can only mean that the original master of the Tower of Truth—the Primordial who built it—must have hidden the tomb personally, shielding it from even Xolo’s awareness.’
That thought settled firmly in his mind, and with it, Max allowed himself to stop worrying about the mystery of the Tomb for now. That place, whatever secrets it held, would reveal itself when the time was right.𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖
With that thought, Max let go of the mysteries surrounding the Tomb of the Sword Saint for now. It wasn’t that he had lost interest—far from it—but he knew better than to chase answers when he wasn’t ready to understand them yet.
There were far more pressing concerns gnawing at the edge of his mind. His expression darkened, his face becoming incredibly solemn as his senses sharpened. ‘The dark aura I felt here last time… and even now, I still feel it,’ Max thought grimly, his eyes narrowing. ‘Now I understand why it felt so familiar to me.’
Back then, when he had first sensed that dark aura lingering around the entrance of the Chamber of Concepts, it had unsettled him. It had whispered to him with a familiarity he couldn’t quite place, but no matter how hard he tried to identify it, the answer had eluded him.
But now, after his grueling trial inside the Tomb and his battle against the corruption of the Abyss Devouring Sword, the realization finally struck him like a sword piercing straight through his chest.
‘It’s Infernal Energy… but not just any Infernal Energy,’ Max realized, his fists slowly clenching at his sides. ‘It’s Infernal Energy that has been corrupted… twisted by the evil energy of the Abyss Devouring Sword.’
The memory of it was still fresh in his mind—the moment he had drawn the Abyss Devouring Sword inside the Tomb, the way the cursed blade had immediately latched onto his Infernal Demon Tattoo, triggering a violent, chaotic transformation.
He remembered vividly how his right arm had been devoured by darkness, how the sword’s evil will had tried to consume his very soul. It was during that brutal struggle that the corrupted Infernal Energy had burst out of him, thick and malevolent, blackening everything it touched.
And now, standing once again before the entrance of the Chamber of Concepts, he realized that the faint dark aura he was sensing—the one that clung stubbornly to the air like a stain—was identical to that very same corruption.
There was no mistake.
The dark energy wasn’t some random anomaly. It was a warning. A sign. Somewhere, either within the Chamber itself or nearby, there was something—or someone—that carried the same infernal energy being corrupted by the Abyss Devouring Sword’s evil energy.
A cold weight settled heavily in Max’s chest as he stared into the shimmering blue entrance.
‘Should I look into it?’ Max thought, his brows furrowing deeply as he stood still before the entrance of the Chamber of Concepts, the faint dark aura brushing against his senses like the touch of cold fingers.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!