Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 Chapter 1327 Legacy of the Forgotten God

"Has he fallen?" Max whispered, his form drifting toward Lucien while his eyes remained locked on the tainted crown suspended in the void.

Though the clash had concluded, a heavy pressure still weighed on his chest. It was difficult to draw breath, as if reality itself was struggling to process the disappearance of its deity.

“He is dead,” Lucien answered after a long pause, finally shifting his gaze to meet Max’s.

His tone held no hint of celebration, only a grim finality born from witnessing an absolute end. Mark was gone, wiped from existence so thoroughly that even the fundamental laws of this realm would lose all memory of him.

“That is good,” Max murmured, a small nod betraying his relief.

In that instant, the terrifying pressure radiating from him began to fail. The Infernal Demon Transformation dissolved into shimmering crimson specks, while the gold light of the Heavenly Luminance Royal Bloodline sloughed off his skin like dying embers.

His power didn't fade—it vanished. The sudden void left his vision swimming and his balance shattered, causing his body to tilt toward the ground.

Freya reacted in a heartbeat, catching him before he could fall. Her grip was firm and steady as she took his weight, her features clouded with obvious anxiety. “Are you alright?” she asked in a low voice, her tone softening with a rare tenderness she showed only in the quietest moments.

“I’m fine,” Max answered, forcing a thin smile as he leaned into her support. “Just drained... completely exhausted.”

He was downplaying it. The reality was far more brutal; this was a fatigue unlike any he had ever known. Even the most grueling wars of his past had barely touched his reserves, but this single confrontation had hollowed him out. He had pushed every ounce of his power past the breaking point, and the strain of wielding several fifth-level concepts simultaneously had inflicted a toll his physical form could not easily endure.

Freya watched him closely for a moment, her face hardening. “That final strike,” she began slowly, “it felt different. For a split second, I sensed the resonance of a Cosmic Path.”

Max gave a tired nod, his eyelids heavy as the memory of the strike returned. “I realized that to break Mark’s bond with the crown, I needed a force capable of severing causality itself,” he explained softly. “In that heartbeat, I grasped the trajectory of my sword’s Cosmic Path. It was unrefined and fragile, but it served its purpose.”

He chose to leave the rest unsaid.

He didn't mention what his clone’s eyes had witnessed, nor did he speak of the dark timeline where he failed to grasp that power. In that vision, oblivion had swallowed everything. He had died, as had Freya and Lucien. The Life Space Rings had crumbled into nothing, and with them, the millions of souls within Acaris were extinguished without ever knowing they were in danger.

It was a total, devastating catastrophe.

Having seen that outcome, Max understood exactly how narrowly they had escaped absolute ruin.

“You are far too reckless, do you realize that?” Freya said, her eyes searching his with an intensity she didn't try to mask. There was no malice in her words, only a mixture of lingering terror and the relief that comes after surviving a situation that should have been fatal.

“What do you mean?” Max asked, tilting his head with genuine confusion. To him, he had simply done what was necessary to ensure their survival.

“A mortal frame, regardless of its strength, should have been torn apart the moment it touched the power of a Cosmic Path,” Freya explained gravely. “Such power is the domain of the Divine Realm. Without ascending and enduring the ten stages of the Rebirth Realm, a body simply cannot contain it. That you used it and survived is nothing short of a miracle.”

She paused, looking him dead in the eye. “You are incredibly lucky to be intact.”

Max offered a faint, relaxed smile. He knew why he had survived. His physical form had been forged by the Giant Dwarves to a degree beyond mortal comprehension, and the awakening of the Vein of Origin—the first of the Seven Divine Veins—had pushed his foundation to monstrous heights.

Furthermore, the protective layers of Dragon Scales and the Draconic Essences flowing through his system had been tirelessly mending his tissues from within, making him far more durable than Freya could possibly guess.

“Why are you smiling?” Freya asked, her brow furrowing with a complex emotion. “If you had fallen there, do you have any idea what would have happened to this world?”

“But I’m fine,” Max said softly, his expression warming as he looked at her. “And that’s what counts.”

His attention then drifted back to the corrupted crown. It hung silently in the air, pulsing with a rhythmic, dark red glow as if it possessed a heartbeat. Even with its master dead, the artifact emitted a suffocating aura that warped the surrounding space.

“What is the plan for this?” Max inquired, looking toward his companions. His tone was level, but the weight of the question was clear. This object had already shattered the balance of one world; he couldn't risk a mistake now.

Lucien gave a nonchalant shrug, readjusting his gaming goggles. “Don't look at me,” he admitted. “Crownbearers and their artifacts are outside my expertise. To me, that thing is as mysterious as it is lethal.”

“If the corruption hadn't taken hold, we might have found a successor among the people of Acaris,” Freya suggested, her brow pinched in thought. “A new bearer could have used its divine authority to purge the Devouring Spirit. But as it stands, this crown is likely the most malevolent object in the mortal world.”

Max’s frown deepened. He intended to ascend to the Divine Realm soon, and once he departed, he would no longer be able to protect Acaris. Leaving such a dangerous relic behind was out of the question.

If the crown were found by someone fueled by greed or hate, a second Mark would inevitably rise. Max refused to let that happen.

The fate of the crown had to be sealed here, before his journey continued.

“Master, you are capable of wielding this crown.” Suddenly, Tian’s voice rang out in Max’s mind, certain and calm, as if the answer had been obvious all along.

“Me?” Max countered internally. “I’m an outsider to this world, and the crown is tainted. Taking it might only feed the infernal energy already inside me.”

“Master, you are the successor of the Dimensional Keeper,” Tian replied firmly. “You carry the legacy of the Forgotten God. Such feats are your birthright.”

“The legacy of the Forgotten God...” Max whispered, his heart stirring. In that moment, a primordial memory clawed its way up from the depths of his soul.

He saw a colossal figure standing beyond the edge of reality, cradling the universe, infinite dimensions, and all of existence within its palm. Stars, galaxies, and the flow of time were mere playthings to this entity. The vision was so staggering that Max’s mind went numb, his very consciousness paralyzed by the sheer magnitude of the sight.

It took several seconds of silence for Max to regain his senses. The image dissolved into the void, yet the impression remained burned into his mind—heavy, ancient, and undeniable, like a part of himself he had finally remembered.