Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 Chapter 1371 Treasure Hall

In short order, the group reached the Reporting Hall of the Thirty Third Hall. The edifice loomed imposingly in the district's core, its shadowy stone facade inscribed with age-old draconic symbols that shimmered subtly, radiating an aura of dominance and discipline. Disciples slipped in and out in muted silence, their faces stern, as though even a whisper might profane the hallowed space.

"Go and report yourself," Carl instructed steadily, pausing at the doorway and waving Max onward.

Max gave a nod and ventured within. The inside proved much plainer than anticipated, but it held a gravity that straightened his stance on instinct. A lengthy desk ran the width of the room, where multiple deacons worked, handling one disciple at a time.

A brief queue had formed already, and Max slipped into it without fanfare. The youths ahead seemed mostly inexperienced, their looks blending eagerness with anxiety, like this one moment could seal their position in the Thirty Third Hall.

Just moments later, Max advanced to the head of the line.

"Next," the deacon at the desk announced in a dull, routine voice.

Max moved up and presented his token. The deacon grasped it, his fingertips grazing its face as he scrutinized the engravings.

For an instant, his forehead creased, and he raised his eyes to inspect Max more closely, as if verifying a possible error or confirming the bearer truly aligned with the token he held. The quiet lingered a beat too long, pulling a handful of intrigued looks from disciples nearby.

At last, the deacon activated the token somehow, etching extra details into it with a soft burst of glow, then returned it. "Here," he stated flatly. "You may proceed to the Treasure Hall and select three items."

Max took back the token and dipped his head a touch before pivoting and departing the desk.

Once Max's form vanished from sight, the deacon exhaled softly. "A disciple at the sixth level of Divine Rank, yet bearing this degree of favor," he whispered to himself. "This one's got powerful support."

Back outside, Max rejoined Carl and the waiting group.

"How did it go?" Carl inquired, his voice even if his gaze sharpened with interest.

Max offered a slight smile and lifted his token. "I am registered as an outer disciple."

"What?" Sam exclaimed, his eyes bulging in astonishment.

George fixed his stare on the token too, his face rigid. "That makes no sense. He is only at the sixth level of Divine Rank."

Their responses hit quick and fierce, struggling to grasp the news. Carl and Laura alone stayed unruffled. Carl knew full well that Max's rank stemmed not from his cultivation stage but from the influence propping him up, whereas Laura's look at Max turned even more contemplative.

"I was also told to pick up three items from the Treasure Hall," Max mentioned offhand, like a passing note.

"What?" Now even Laura couldn't mask her surprise.

Within the Thirty Third Hall, veteran outer disciples earned the chance to claim just one item from the Treasure Hall via deeds or points. Gaining permission to take three items right at entry as an outer disciple was unprecedented, a feat unknown in the hall's annals.

Right then, it struck everyone there like a thunderbolt that Max Morgan wasn't joining the Thirty Third Hall as a regular recruit, but as one with solid patronage.

"Let us head to the Treasure Hall then," Carl suggested with a grin as he spun and started guiding Max ahead. In truth, the perks Max earned didn't catch him off guard.

Whoever got a direct endorsement from Lady Virelia, or rather Elder Virelia, was sure to get top-tier handling. That was the way of the Black Dragon Palace, where connections often outweighed raw cultivation power.

Had Carl realized Max wasn't just endorsed by Lady Virelia but actually her personal disciple, all these events would have clicked even clearer for him.

The others fell in step after Carl and Max. Laura especially felt her intrigue about Max swell, and she strode along with a pensive air, her eyes flicking his way now and then, probing the veils concealing his real potential.

Her best friend released a soft breath before tagging along, well used to Laura's sharp senses around anything out of the ordinary. George and Sam hung back too, their prior swagger dimmed, swapped for wariness and wonder they made no effort to conceal.

Soon enough, they pulled up at the Treasure Hall. To Max, the name "hall" didn't quite fit. Before him towered a colossal building piercing the sky, its somber shell bolstered by tiers of timeless substances and arrays that throbbed gently with Divine Essence.

It resembled a grand tower far more than a mere hall, leaving Max to puzzle why they didn't just dub it the Treasure Tower.

They stepped inside the building, unveiling an expansive and still interior. A scattering of disciples wandered about, but the space stayed mostly deserted, lending it a stark and nearly suffocating vibe.

Shelves of locked vaults flanked the walls, each emitting a unique presence, some faint and others keen enough to rouse Max's senses.

"Who needs a treasure?" a gruff voice snapped abruptly.

An old man with a constant scowl materialized in front of them, his brows knit tight as if life itself had slighted him deeply. He appeared perpetually vexed by mere being.

"Elder Soren," Carl greeted with respect, bowing his head. "This is Max. He has been authorized to select treasures."

Elder Soren eyed Max up and down repeatedly, his piercing stare holding on too long. "A cultivator at the sixth level of Divine Rank, barely more than a novice in Divine Realm terms, and still permitted in the Treasure Hall," he remarked with a deep huff. "Intriguing. Most intriguing. Hand over your identity token, boy."

Max nodded and offered his token promptly.

The instant Elder Soren spotted it, his eyes slitted keenly. He knew the emblem right away.

'Lady Virelia's personal mark?' His face stayed neutral, but his mind whirled inside. 'So this disciple falls under her wing. That clears it all up. None but those she shields would snag such rights without a hitch.'

"Come with me," Elder Soren barked shortly as he wheeled and strode further into the Treasure Hall.

Max trailed after him, with Carl and the rest shadowing quietly. As they pressed onward, the energies surrounding them thickened and deepened, and Max sensed that the depths of this domain held nothing commonplace whatsoever.