Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 - Chapter 1964

Chapter 1964: A Traitor’s Bloodline!

The leaders of the Four Sacred Clans, who’d been watching from the highest seats, finally reacted.

On the Valerius end, an old man in white-gold robes stood up, his eyes blazing with sacred light. On the Ashbourne end, a dark-armored patriarch leaned forward, the stone beneath his hand cracking silently. On the Ravenhart end, a veiled matriarch’s shadow spread across half the platform. On the Evercrest end, several elders rose at the same time, their faces filled with shock and alarm.

One of them shouted, “Max Morgan, what are you doing?”

Another elder’s voice followed right after. “Stop!”

Even Angelina Valerius’s expression changed.

“Max,” she said, her voice sharper than before. “Wait.”

But Max didn’t wait. His eyes stayed fixed on the statue of the First Progenitor. The starry light around his fist grew brighter. The arena formation trembled, not because it was being destroyed, but because it couldn’t understand the nature of the power gathering inside his hand.

It wasn’t ordinary spatial power. It wasn’t pure dimensional power either. It was legacy power, sealed-world power, and a kind of authority that seemed to stand outside the rules the Four Sacred Clans had placed inside the battlefield.

Max inhaled slowly. Then he took one step forward.

The ground beneath his foot cracked. The suppressed bloodline reactions across the four clan platforms grew even stronger.

The statue of the First Progenitor, which had stayed silent since the battle began, finally reacted. A faint vibration came from within it. It was so soft that most people probably missed it. But Max heard it. His blood heard it. The Dimensional Keeper legacy around his fist pulsed in response.

The leaders of the Four Sacred Clans were about to speak again, but Max had already raised his fist. He didn’t aim at Aelric. He didn’t aim at the clan platforms. He aimed at the ground beneath the arena.

Then he slammed his star-like fist down.

Boom.

The moment Max’s star-like fist struck the arena floor, the entire Bloodline Legacy Battle arena trembled as if something ancient beneath it had finally been woken up.

The first thing to react was the statue of the First Progenitor. The enormous stone figure that had stood silently at one end of the arena began to glow.

At first the light was faint, just a thin line spreading along the closed eyelids of the statue. Then that light moved across its face, down its neck, through the folds of its stone robe, and into the hand resting near its side.

Every line carved into the statue lit up with a deep starry radiance, not gold, not green, not crimson, not purple, but a color that seemed to hold the dark sky and countless hidden worlds inside it.

The pressure on the Four Sacred Clans increased at once. It didn’t come from Max alone. It came from the statue.

The bloodlines of Valerius, Ashbourne, Ravenhart, and Evercrest trembled violently, and this time the suppression was far worse than before. Countless descendants who’d awakened the forbidden bloodline clutched their chests and went pale.

Some younger heirs dropped to one knee, their faces filled with disbelief as their bloodline marks flickered uncontrollably. Even powerful elders felt the flow of their blood slow down, as if the very source of their inherited power had been pressed beneath a higher authority.

“What is happening?”

“My bloodline is being suppressed!”

“How is this possible? This is the First Progenitor’s arena!”

“The statue’s reacting to him!”

“No, impossible. He’s an outsider!”

The voices spread across the four clan ends in a wave of panic and disbelief.

Max stood at the center of the battlefield with his fist still pressed against the cracked arena floor. The Dimensional Keeper legacy kept shining around his hand like a miniature universe, and the starry light flowing from his fist had already sunk into the deepest formation beneath the battlefield.

He could feel it now. The arena wasn’t just an arena. It was a sealed structure, a lock placed over something hidden, and his fist had struck exactly the layer that the Four Sacred Clans themselves seemed to have forgotten or deliberately buried.

The statue’s closed eyes glowed brighter. Then the fifth end of the arena lit up. Not the Valerius end. Not Ashbourne. Not Ravenhart. Not Evercrest. Not even the end where the statue stood.

The abandoned end.

The broken, dark, empty platform that no one had occupied since the Bloodline Legacy Battle began suddenly erupted with light. Ancient cracks across its surface filled with starry radiance.

Broken stone seats repaired themselves in flashes of silver and black. Old banners that hadn’t been visible before slowly appeared out of the air, torn and faded, yet still carrying a symbol that made the blood of the Four Sacred Clans tremble even harder.

The entire arena froze. Even Max was surprised. His eyes moved toward the abandoned end, and for the first time since he’d entered this arena, his expression changed openly.

The abandoned platform wasn’t empty anymore. It had never been truly empty. It had been sealed. Forgotten. Erased from open memory. But not destroyed.

The starry symbol above that end began to take shape. It didn’t look like the sacred sun of Valerius, the blood-iron mark of Ashbourne, the shadow-feather of Ravenhart, or the worldwood emblem of Evercrest.

It looked like a dark star surrounded by broken dimensional rings, and every time the symbol pulsed, the Dimensional Keeper legacy around Max’s fist responded.

The leaders of the Four Sacred Clans all stood up at once. Their expressions had completely changed. Shock. Fear. Rage. Recognition.

The old man from Valerius stared at Max, his white-gold eyes no longer calm. “That symbol…”

The dark-armored leader of Ashbourne clenched his hand so hard the space around his fingers cracked. “Impossible. That bloodline should have disappeared.”

The veiled matriarch of Ravenhart whispered, but her voice still carried strangely across the arena. “The abandoned end has awakened.”

The Evercrest patriarch looked at Max as if he’d finally seen a ghost from an ancient nightmare. “No wonder the statue reacted.”

Rose stood below the Evercrest platform, completely stunned. She looked from Max to the glowing abandoned end, then back to Max. All the color had drained from her face.

She didn’t understand everything, but she understood enough to realize that something far bigger than the Bloodline Legacy Battle had just happened. Max wasn’t merely a powerful outsider who’d come to represent her.

The arena had recognized him. Or rather, something hidden inside the arena had recognized his power.

Angelina Valerius stood at the edge of the battlefield with narrowed eyes, her expression more serious than Max had ever seen it. She looked at the abandoned end, then at the statue, then at Max’s star-like fist.

For a moment, no one moved.

Then the Valerius leader spoke in a cold voice.

“He carries it.”

The Ashbourne leader’s eyes filled with killing intent. “The traitor’s bloodline.”

The words hit the arena like thunder. The descendants of the Four Sacred Clans turned toward Max in disbelief.

“The traitor’s bloodline?”

“What does that mean?”

“Is he connected to the abandoned end?”

“But he’s Max Morgan. Wasn’t he from the Black Dragon Clan?”

“Did the traitor’s line survive?”

“How can a descendant of that bloodline show up here now?”