Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 Chapter 1506 Secrets of the 100th FLoor

As the young primordial vanished from the ninety-ninth level, the space surrounding Max underwent a profound shift.

A ripple of distortion swept through the air, and Max felt the tower effortlessly relocate him. Gone abruptly were the raging conflagrations, blinding currents of lightning, and the manifestation of divine constructs that had defined the battlefield.

Once the distortion passed, Max found he was standing in an entirely different environment.

He cast his gaze around the room.

This space bore no resemblance to the martial arenas of previous floors. There were no expansive fields of conflict, no protective formations, and no lingering echoes of destruction.

Instead, the surroundings possessed a peculiar sense of familiarity.

It felt like a private study or workshop.

Large worktables were scattered across the chamber, cluttered with specialized tools that were entirely foreign to Max. Some were ancient, crafted from forgotten alloys, while others were delicate instruments designed for precise cultivation tasks.

Shelves ascended toward the ceiling along the walls.

They were tightly packed with countless scrolls and tomes, their sheer volume suggesting that the room’s inhabitant had devoted eons to the accumulation of knowledge.

Nearby, glass containers rested upon specialized racks.

Chemical flasks and reinforced tubing held liquids of iridescent hues, some glowing with a soft, residual light while others emitted faint, swirling vapors.

Rather than the final tier of a combat trial, the entire chamber radiated the aura of a grand laboratory.

"What is this place?" Max murmured as he began to pace cautiously across the floor.

His eyes scanned the room, fueled by intense curiosity.

He was certain this was the final floor of the Combat Legion Tower, as the tower spirit had transported him here the moment the primordial retreated.

Yet, this location lacked any sign of a martial trial.

It was a place defined by long-term labor. Every tool was positioned with intent, the books showed heavy wear, and the vials were arranged in patterns suggesting ongoing research.

It felt as though a scholar had lived and practiced within these walls for millennia.

Max continued his detailed inspection of the area.

Just as he neared a desk laden with strange devices, a voice suddenly resonated from behind him.

"At last, someone other than that peculiar primordial has ascended to the hundredth floor."

The sudden sound caused Max to startle.

He whirled around instantly.

Standing a short distance away was an elderly man.

However, the man did not possess a corporeal frame.

His image was a transparent silhouette. His form was hazy and spectral, flickering like a reflection composed of mist; Max could see the laboratory equipment through the man's ethereal figure.

Clearly, the old man was not a living being.

Instead, he was a manifestation of a spiritual projection or a lingering remnant of a soul.

"Who exactly are you?" Max queried, his gaze fixed on the translucent figure.

The elder observed him with a calm gaze before responding.

"I am the architect who constructed this tower."

Max’s brows arched. The revelation was surprising, yet it carried an air of inevitability. The laboratory’s existence and the enigmatic atmosphere of the hundredth floor suggested that its master remained tethered to the tower’s essence.

"You built this tower?" Max questioned, gesturing at the room. "So, the hundred floors are merely a series of trials?"

The old man gave a slow, deliberate nod.

"That is accurate," he replied softly. "I created these chambers to identify a successor worthy of inheriting my life’s work."

As he spoke, a complicated shadow crossed the old man’s face.

He let out a soft, mournful breath.

"However, only after finalizing the construction of the three towers did I realize that I had committed a grave error."

"A grave error?" Max repeated, his brow knitting in confusion. "To what are you referring?"

The elder declined to offer a direct explanation.

"You shall grasp the truth soon enough," he whispered, watching Max with a deep, analytical intensity.

His gaze lingered on Max before he continued.

"So, that young primordial saw fit to allow you passage past the ninety-ninth floor."

The elder seemed to be weighing Max, searching for specific traits.

"Understand this: until now, the only soul to ever reach this level was that primordial."

Max offered a minimal nod.

He wasn't stunned by this claim. During their brief encounter, he had witnessed the primordial’s overwhelming power. Even in such a short skirmish, the force deployed by that being was far beyond the capability of the guardians on the lower floors.

That primordial certainly possessed the strength to conquer the tower if he so desired.

Nonetheless, a new question flickered in Max's mind.

He frowned slightly.

"Wait," Max said, looking directly at the specter. "If that primordial had reached this height before me, why has he not already claimed your inheritance?"

The old man shook his head slowly.

"It is not so simple," he stated calmly. "While that primordial fulfilled every prerequisite I established for accessing the hundredth floor, that does not imply I found him suitable to inherit my legacy."

Max’s curiosity grew sharper.

"And why is that?" he asked genuinely.

In Max’s view, a primordial was the ultimate vessel for such knowledge. As the most formidable race in the Divine Realm, their affinity for Cultivation, their innate bloodline, and their profound insight into the mysteries of the Dao eclipsed nearly everyone else.

Bestowing one’s achievements upon such a being would guarantee the legacy reached unimaginable heights.

Yet, the architect had deliberately denied him.