Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 Chapter 1533 Dragon Death Valley!

~3 minute read · 661 words
Previously on Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100...
Max and his companions reached the forbidden planet Orion aboard the Star Shuttle, landing in a neutral southern camp surrounded by shuttles from various forces. Upon exiting into the planet's heavy gravity and oppressive atmosphere, which affected Isabella but not Max, Lucia demanded their true purpose. Max revealed his intent to claim the corpse of the true Black Dragon, the same source of their clan's heart, leaving Lucia stunned and questioning his sanity.

Max gave a casual shrug. "Because the corpse was too big?" he responded, his voice relaxed.

Lucia shook her head right away.

"No," she stated. "That's not the reason."

Her face grew solemn as she pressed on.

"A deadly aura envelops the Black Dragon's corpse," she described deliberately. "This isn't normal. It stems from the remnant essence of a real dragon post-death, blended with the war's chaos and devastation right here."

She halted for a second, ensuring his focus.

"Whatever touches that aura, regardless of power, starts draconification," she warned. "The body transforms, the mind crumbles gradually, and soon it becomes a mindless dragon-like monster. Then, it fully merges into the aura itself."

Her statement hung heavy with dread.

Even silent Isabella sensed a quiet chill in her chest.

Lucia went on, her voice laden with ancient tales. "Our forebears didn't claim that heart without cost. Countless clan members fell just to get close. Despite heavy sacrifices, they seized only the heart and fled. Nothing more could be taken."

She fixed her piercing gaze on Max.

"Now you grasp what you plan to attempt."

Silence fell briefly after her words.

Then, with a slow breath, she added, "That's why the corpse's spot ranks among Orion's most notorious sites."

Her tone dropped as she named it.

"They call it Dragon Death Valley."

The title alone bore a ominous weight, marked by endless fallen souls through time.

Lucia's stare remained firm.

"And you insist on going there."

Max heard Lucia out fully without cutting in, then nodded firmly. No fear flickered in his eyes despite the terrifying tale of Dragon Death Valley—his determination only hardened.

"Nothing will sway me," Max declared steadily, as if embracing all risks ahead. "I must go."

Lucia eyed him briefly before sighing deeply. She'd foreseen this reply, but it still stirred frustration. This wasn't rash impulse; Max's choice was set, unchangeable.

"Alright," she agreed, shaking her head faintly. "But first, handle this before we move."

From her storage, she pulled a mask and offered it. "Wear it," she instructed. "Your face is too famous now. Roaming Orion exposed invites disaster. Many here would eagerly strike, particularly over the Sword Sovereign's sword."

Max accepted it without protest, slipping on the plain mask. Fine black dragon etchings revealed themselves up close. It molded instantly to his face, fusing seamlessly.

Max blinked, then grinned softly. "Nice," he remarked, pleased.

Issue settled, he gazed forward. "On to Dragon Death Valley, then."

Lucia slapped her forehead in irritation.

"If only," she grumbled.

She drew a deep breath, tone sharpening again. "For one, I've never visited Dragon Death Valley personally—just heard tales and reports. Its precise spot on Orion eludes me. Plus, even knowing it, blind rushing won't work. That zone demands real prep."

Max stayed silent, offering a small smile. "You're the expert, so planning's yours. What's our next step?"

Lucia dipped her head, unsurprised. "Intel first," she decided. "Pinpoint Dragon Death Valley's location and check for teams heading out. Joining one simplifies everything. Solo travel on Orion is risky; groups handle surprises better."

Max glanced around the camp, brow furrowing lightly. "So, we inquire around?"

Lucia negated with a head shake. "Not randomly," she clarified. "Special spots exist for info trades. Casual questions yield zilch or draw eyes."

She pivoted toward the camp's southern depths. "Come on," she directed. "I know a reliable intel source."

Max and Isabella shared a quick look, then trailed her.

Deeper in, the vibe shifted. The landing zone stayed mellow, but central areas buzzed with far more cultivators. Various factions milled about—resting, bartering goods, or watching keenly.

The atmosphere crackled with strain.

Each soul pulsed with power.

Each harbored purpose.

Masked Max strode steadily amid the throng, eyes scanning alertly while concealed. Isabella kept pace, poised, as Lucia guided assuredly, versed in local ways.