Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Klaus smiled. Not a warm smile. A knowing one. The kind that carried weight. "Because the Mourning Depths is not just a land of death. It's a land of transformation."

Max narrowed his eyes. "Transformation?"

Klaus nodded. "There are different kinds of Infernal Beings in the depths. Some will kill you the moment you lay eyes on them. Others… might give you a chance."

A pause.

"If one can kill an Infernal Being, something happens."

Max and Callie tensed.

"The Infernal Energy within them doesn't simply vanish. It latches onto the killer. Imprints itself. And when it does…"

Klaus raised his palm. His fingers flexed as if tracing something unseen. Just then a mark appeared on his palm lighting with dark red glow.

"A mark appears. A black tattoo. We call it…"

A flicker of something unreadable in his gaze.

"Infernal Demon Tattoo."

Max's breath slowed. His eyes fixed on the tattoo.

Klaus continued, his voice deliberate. "These tattoos are not just symbols. They hold power. A force. A will of their own."

"With them, a person can create a forcefield. A space where they can control Infernal Energy as their own."

His lips curled. "We call this the Infernal Demon Forcefield."

Max exhaled slowly. A forcefield, built from absorbed Infernal Energy? It sounded impossible. And yet—Klaus spoke with certainty.

"But not all Infernal Demon Tattoos are the same," Klaus went on. "There are different levels. Some are weak. Some are strong. Their strength depends on the layers within the tattoo."

His expression turned solemn. "The highest recorded level is twelve layers."

Max frowned. "Twelve layers... Is that powerful?"

Klaus shook his head. "No human has ever formed a twelve-layered Infernal Demon Tattoo."

His voice dropped lower. "Because increasing the layers is no small feat. It requires more Infernal Beings. More kills. More Infernal Energy."

He let that sink in before adding, "And that… is the problem."

Silence.

Then— "Killing them is the easy part." Klaus's gaze darkened. "The hard part? Surviving the encounter in the first place."

A pause. A cold breath in the air.

"Most people don't even realize what they're facing until it's too late. Before they can react…"

A slow exhale.

"They're dead."

Max's fingers curled.

And then Klaus delivered the final piece.

"But legend says… a twelve-layered Infernal Demon Tattoo grants something beyond mere power."

His eyes gleamed.

"The ability to comprehend a domain."

Max's heart pounded.

"And not just any domain…"

Klaus leaned in, voice barely above a whisper.

"The Infernal Demon Domain."

Max stood still, letting the weight of Klaus's words settle in.

Everything made sense now.

The Mourning Depths wasn't just a death trap.

It was a battlefield of ambition.

A place where legends had fallen.

Where power still lingered.

No wonder every major force in the Lower Domain had its eyes set on it.

Then Klaus spoke again, a smile tugging at his lips. "The third reason is inheritance."

Max's gaze sharpened.

"The inheritance left behind by the experts who perished in the Mourning Depths."

Klaus leaned back, his tone casual, but there was an edge to it. "You should already know this, but in the Lower Domain, our growth is... restricted. No one here has ever surpassed the peak of the Expert Rank."

Max nodded. That much was common knowledge.

Klaus continued. "But beyond Expert Rank, there are higher levels. Master Rank. Champion Rank. The true realms of power."

A pause.

"Yet, despite countless years passing, no one in the Lower Domain has ever broken through these shackles."

Max frowned. "Why?"

Klaus shrugged. "No one knows. It's a mystery. A restriction placed upon us for reasons beyond our understanding."

Then his eyes darkened. "But here's the thing. Thousands of Masters and Champions have perished in the Mourning Depths. Their legacies didn't just vanish."

Max inhaled sharply.

"If they left behind their knowledge… their treasures… their inheritances… then that could be the key to breaking past the Expert Rank."

Another pause.

"That is why the strongest of the Lower Domain—leaders at the peak of the Expert Rank—are risking their lives for this place."

His lips curled slightly. "That… and the Infernal Demon Tattoos."

Max nodded, everything falling into place. All the queries he had in his head was answered.

But then—

A thought struck him. His body stiffened.

Alice.

She was coming too.

His mind raced. Before, he had thought the Mourning Depths was just another dangerous expedition. But now?

This was madness.

He clenched his fists. She shouldn't be going.

But he knew Alice.

She wouldn't back down.

Damn it.

"It seems all your questions have been answered," Klaus said, standing up. His tone was light, but there was amusement in his eyes. "No need to overthink it. The Divine Palace's floor leaders are quite generous… they'll explain everything to you."

His smirk deepened. "At least, what they want you to know."

Then, without another word, he turned and walked toward the door.

"Alright. Prepare well, you two. I'll see you in two days."

With that, he left.

The room fell into silence.

Max exhaled slowly, his mind still reeling.

This was going to be much worse than he thought.

"I'm going to try and reach Level 4 of Seeker Rank," Callie said, her gaze locked on Max. "You should focus on breaking through to Adept Rank."

Max smiled wryly. "I will."

She held his gaze for a moment, then turned and left without another word.

Silence filled the room.

Max leaned back on the couch, his thoughts drifting.

'Freya mentioned there's an opportunity for me in the Mourning Depths…'

His sister's words echoed in his mind.

An opportunity. But what kind?

The Mourning Depths held countless secrets. Ancient inheritances. Infernal Tattoos. The remnants of fallen legends. He just didn't know which one she was referring to.

'No point dwelling on it. I have two days. I should focus on preparing. Myself… and my little army.'

With that, Max stood up and left the room.

Training Begins

Their villa was large—more than enough space to train. The rooms were grand, the halls wide, and most importantly, the training chamber was massive.

Max stepped inside.

The air was still. Silent.

Then—

Whoosh!

A sudden burst of energy filled the space.

Twenty figures materialized before him.

Twenty Earth Golems.

Their bodies were a fusion of rock and magma, yet not entirely either. A perfect balance. That was why Max called them Earth Golems instead of something else.

Each one stood just slightly taller than him, but their sheer width made them appear massive.

Their heads? Giant slabs of rock, smooth yet imposing.

Their bodies? A composition of shifting boulders, moving with unnatural fluidity.

Their frames? Hulking masses of earth and molten veins, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.

A small smirk tugged at Max's lips.

The Power of His Army

Max studied the twenty Earth Golems before him. Silent. Unmoving. Waiting for his command.

Their strength matched his—at the peak of Apprentice Rank.

But that wasn't enough.

Not for the Mourning Depths.

He placed a hand on his chin, his mind racing. 'They won't be able to fight the true threats inside. But… they don't need to.'

A slow smirk formed.

'They're perfect for diversions. For decoys. For controlling the battlefield.'

That was enough for now.

These past few months in the Hidden City of the East had been more than just personal training.

He had worked relentlessly, perfecting his techniques. But more importantly—

He had solved the problem of the Golems.

Before, they had raw strength but lacked proper skills. Now? That weakness was gone.

And with that, he had built this small army.

Twenty golems, all at the peak of Apprentice Rank.

It was only the beginning.

Max's gaze flickered. His fists clenched slightly. 'After my time in the Mourning Depths… I'll take this further and will study many different types of golems.'

A Grand Vision

He wasn't satisfied with just twenty.

He wanted hundreds. Thousands.

An unstoppable force under his command.

Golems that could reshape battlefields. That could overwhelm enemies in sheer numbers. That could make him unstoppable.

His blood burned at the thought.

Yes, it would take time. Effort. Resources.

But since when had time ever stopped him?

A slow exhale. A determined glint in his eyes.

"One step at a time."

For now, the Mourning Depths awaited.