Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 Chapter 1360 Winning!

"How... how did this Max acquire such horrifying power?" Malissa bellowed from the depths of her chest while observing the clash, her poise utterly demolished by the sight unfolding right in front of her.

The anticipated rapid and crushing win for the Grim Gladiator had morphed into a shameful display instead, since Max had seized command of the fight's tempo from the outset.

Regardless of the Grim Gladiator's savage assaults or the immense force he channeled into every strike, his blade never once pierced Max's guard. Max loomed like an unyielding barrier in his path, a force that refused to yield, fracture, or evade no matter the intensity of the onslaught.

"Damn it," Malissa snarled savagely, her tone quivering with fury and incredulity as her gaze gradually reddened from sustained anger. "How could a sixth-level Divine Rank mortal wield such might? This defies all reason—I won't accept it."

As the fight stretched longer, her irritation deepened further, since each passing moment hammered home the harsh reality that Max faced no real challenge. The scheme she had meticulously devised crumbled before her very eyes, and she remained powerless to halt its downfall.

In another part of the hall, Randolf and Chris remained rooted in place, speechless, their prior assurance wiped clean away. They had thought swapping the last foe from a first-level Rebirth Realm fighter to a third-level one was overkill, but it now hit them hard that the switch changed absolutely nothing.

The Grim Gladiator poured all his effort into the fray, yet Max managed him with startling simplicity, revealing a divide between them wider than anyone could have guessed.

While responses differed throughout the Divine Colosseum—with spectators bursting into wonder, Jaden and Lucia gripped by total astonishment, Lord Arckin observing with delighted intrigue, and Malissa boiling in denial—the confrontation itself climbed to its climax.

Bang.

Again, Max and the Grim Gladiator's forms smashed together, their weapons clanging and unleashing a fierce blast that hurled them both back over the arena's ground. The atmosphere quaked as their boots ground against the rock, and for an instant, the field hung in heavy quiet.

"Time to finish this," Max murmured steadily, his words even as scarlet bolts burst forth around his frame.

At that very moment, he triggered the Storm King's Inheritance, Extreme Speed, alongside summoning Heaven's Wraith, and his shape blurred away in a streak of blood-red glow. The Grim Gladiator barely had time to respond before Max materialized right before him, blade extended straight toward the golden breastplate that had endured endless conflicts.

Bang.

The plating truly boasted exceptional craftsmanship, enough to repel Max's edge without a single mark, but such details held no relevance now.

The raw impact of the blow, boosted by crimson lightning, Draconic Essences, and the might surging through his veins, burst out in a ruinous wave. The Grim Gladiator's enormous form flew backward without resistance, hurtling through the air until it slammed hard into the spectator barriers.

When his bulk at last halted, the result shone obvious to all onlookers. The duel had concluded.

Max remained solitary in the field, composed and untouched, just as he had foreseen since the start.

The instant the Grim Gladiator's huge body struck the barriers and stayed down, the Divine Colosseum plunged into a shocked hush that endured one beat, as though reality itself paused to process the event. Then, that quiet exploded, giving way to a torrent of cries so intense and disordered that the whole structure shook from the din.

"He triumphed... the Grim Gladiator truly fell," a voice murmured in shock, shaking as its owner stared at the arena.

"No way this is happening—the Grim Gladiator went unbeaten for years, nobody's pulled this off," another fan bellowed, grabbing their skull like they aimed to snap out of a nightmare.

"That last hit—you saw it? He didn't even dent the armor, just hurled him flying. Max overpowers the Grim Gladiator completely," a fellow hollered, his tone laced with reverence and dread intertwined.

"The unbeatable myth crumbles—the Grim Gladiator's finally beaten," somebody shrieked, their declaration ringing out as awareness rippled through the masses.

"Hahaha, today's the day history changes, an age closes," yet another call rang, blending wild laughter with quaking thrill.

"Max conquered them all—even the Grim Gladiator couldn't halt him, this is beyond belief," a lady cried while joyful tears brimmed in her eyes.

"Max, Max, Max," the cheers surged anew, springing from all sections of the Divine Colosseum as multitudes leaped to their feet and bellowed his name in wild passion.

"The Grim Gladiator's dominance ends, the myth dies, and a new one emerges today," a resonant tone boomed from the high tiers.

The Divine Colosseum spiraled into total frenzy as hurrahs, yells, and booming claps merged into one colossal roar of noise, for at that juncture, all grasped the identical fact. The invincible saga of the Grim Gladiator had perished, and rising in its stead stood a much more daunting legend called Max.

Amid the earth-shaking ovations sweeping the Divine Colosseum, Max merely lifted his shoulders, face serene as if the chaos bypassed him entirely, and lingered for the official call. The clamor kept swelling about him, but he held firm at the arena's heart, weapon relaxed, gaze firm, like the skirmish amounted to mere practice.

"The victor of this clash is Max Morgan," the crier proclaimed at last, his declaration booming over the full Divine Colosseum with crystal precision. "Through Max's conquest of the Grim Gladiator, he claims his liberty and may now depart the Divine Colosseum to align with whatever group he selects." Those statements bore immense significance, sealing a legend's close and heralding a vastly superior rise.

"At last," Max remarked with a faint grin, a subtle fulfillment blooming within him, since that one phrase was precisely what he had anticipated hearing from the onset.

Liberty marked his actual aim, not renown, not splendor, and not the myriad stares now locked on him. Through this, the chains of the Divine Colosseum ought to shatter, freeing him to tread his chosen route unbound.

As Max pivoted a bit, ready to exit the field and close this segment, the mood altered anew. Three shapes materialized abruptly in the arena, their entrance sudden and weighty, snagging instant focus from early spotters.

It was Malissa, Randolf, and Chris—the exact trio who pulled the Divine Colosseum's strings from the shadows—and their mere showing stirred a wave of disquiet among the throng, hinting that victory and release aside, the saga lingered far from finished.