Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 Chapter 1623 Perfect Rating!

Before the shattered remains of the slain had even settled, Max initiated his next maneuver.

A diagonal step preceded a forward thrust.

A simple, unadorned stab sliced through the core of one puppet, continuing its trajectory through a second puppet positioned directly behind the first. A burst of sparks and fragmented metal erupted as both mechanical soldiers collapsed.

He then executed a wrist twist.

A basic upward swing, originating from below, cleaved the subsequent puppet from its waist to its shoulder.

Every motion he employed was characterized by its simplicity.

Slash.

Thrust.

Parry.

Step.

Cut.

Turn.

Reverse strike.

There was nothing ostentatious about his actions. They were the most fundamental sword techniques imaginable.

Yet, the disconcerting reality was that Max had honed these basic skills to a terrifying level of proficiency.

He possessed an innate understanding of the weakest points in their joints. He knew with absolute certainty when an opponent's momentum could no longer be retracted. He grasped angles, timing, spacing, rhythm, and pressure with an almost instinctive clarity.

The Combat Puppets responded without delay.

The rear formations advanced, while the units on the flanks converged inward. A multitude of swords attacked simultaneously, effectively sealing off all avenues of escape from every conceivable direction.

A sharp glint flashed in Max's eyes.

Seven-colored lightning surged once more.

His body's speed escalated further as he navigated the oncoming barrage of blades with impossible finesse. One sword passed so close that it severed a single strand of his hair. Another scraped sparks from his sleeve. A third impacted the ground precisely where he had been a moment before.

However, not a single blade managed to strike him effectively.

Max then initiated his counter-offensive.

He parried one sword just enough to redirect its path into the shoulder of another puppet. Before either could react, he moved between them, executing a straightforward downward chop that bifurcated both their helmets simultaneously.

He pivoted low, his blade sweeping across the ankle joints, causing three puppets to topple in unison. Before they could hit the ground, he successively stabbed downward through each of their cores.

He leaped backward, then propelled himself forward again, akin to unleashed thunder.

Ten puppets were felled.

Twenty more followed in quick succession.

The arena floor became a carpet of broken armor, severed limbs, and shattered weaponry.

Despite the mounting destruction, the remaining puppets displayed no trace of apprehension.

Their formation shifted anew, this time fragmenting into smaller combat units. Some advanced directly, while others focused on restricting Max's movement and depleting his stamina.

Max emitted a soft laugh as his battle intent intensified, blazing hotter in his eyes.

This was precisely the scenario he desired.

He no longer moved like a conventional swordsman.

He moved like a tempest unleashed upon the battlefield.

At times, he would surge forward with sheer velocity, decapitating opponents before they could even register his presence. At other moments, he would halt abruptly, permitting attacks to pass harmlessly before entering the blind spot of multiple adversaries. Occasionally, he would utilize the body of a fallen puppet as cover, then drive his blade through both the corpse and the enemy positioned behind it.

Every single strike remained fundamentally basic.

Every single strike remained optimally efficient.

Every single strike resulted in annihilation.

The number of vanquished adversaries climbed from thirty to fifty.

Then, from fifty to seventy.

The relentless thunder of seven-colored lightning persisted as Max carved through opponents, transcending his own realm through sheer combat mastery.

By the time only twenty remained, his eyes blazed with an intense battle fervor. There was no indication whatsoever of any fatigue on his part.

His current combat prowess approximated the peak of the Law Refinement Realm, and arguably even surpassed it. These 5th-level Law Refinement Combat Puppets stood no chance against him.

The final twenty puppets arranged themselves into a perfect circle of lethal intent around him.

Then, they attacked in unison.

Sword lights rained down from all directions, completely sealing the sky, the ground, and every possible line of retreat.

Max firmly planted one foot onto the fractured arena floor.

Seven-colored lightning erupted outwards from his body in a radiant wave, illuminating every broken corpse strewn across the battlefield.

Then, he moved.

He stepped forward and unleashed an unbroken chain of flawless, basic sword attacks.

A slash found one puppet's throat.

A thrust pierced another's core.

A turn positioned him behind two enemies.

An upward cut split one of them asunder.

A reverse stab terminated another.

A downward strike crushed both helmet and body.

His movements flowed seamlessly from one to the next without interruption, as smooth as water and as violent as thunder.

Within mere moments, the encirclement disintegrated completely.

The very last Combat Puppet remained standing for a solitary breath, its sword still held aloft.

Then, a crack began to spread from the apex of its helmet down to its central mass.

Its metallic frame split apart, crashing to the ground in two distinct halves.

A profound silence descended upon the arena.

All one hundred Combat Puppets had been annihilated.

Max stood solitary amidst a desolate landscape of wreckage, his sword lowered at his side, while faint tendrils of seven-colored lightning continued to dance around his form. Shattered armor lay scattered across the arena, resembling fallen leaves in the wake of a divine tempest.

"I wonder what kind of sword art I might comprehend from this," Max murmured, brimming with excitement regarding the outcome of this minor assessment.

A lingering silence permeated the ruined arena.

For a few moments, silence reigned.

Then, the gray expanse above the arena began to ripple.

Ancient, intricate runes materialized in the void, tracing vast, circling patterns high above the combat zone. Columns of faint light descended, enveloping Max and meticulously surveying the battlefield. They cataloged every puppet annihilated, every impact etched into the ground, every subtle shift in energy, and possibly, the very methodology behind his triumph.

The same emotionless, mechanical voice resonated once more.

[Combat Evaluation Concluded.]

[Analyzing Participant Performance.]

[Total Combat Puppets Deployed: 100]

[Total Combat Puppets Eliminated: 100]

[Participant Survival Status: Optimal]

[Damage Sustained: Negligible]

[Energy Efficiency: Exemplary]

[Weapon Technique Employed: Fundamental Sword Arts]

[Combat Adaptability: Extraordinary]

[Cross-Realm Battle Capability: Surpasses Standard Metrics]

Max’s gaze sharpened as he absorbed each declaration.

It was clear the system wasn't just tallying victories. It was quantifying every facet – from ruthless efficiency to tactical choices, and crucially, the degree to which he had defied expectations.

The luminous pronouncements flickered, pausing for a beat.

Then, the entire arena vibrated with renewed intensity.

A more profound radiance ignited in the sky, eclipsing the previous light and causing even the fractured debris below to tremble. New pronouncements unfurled in colossal characters before Max’s eyes.

[Standard Reward Tiers Available:]

[Low Performance]

[Qualified Performance]

[Outstanding Performance]

[Exceptional Performance]

These lines of text dissolved one by one.

For an instant, the arena plunged into utter darkness.

Then, a golden effulgence erupted, akin to a nascent sun, flooding the space.

The mechanical voice, previously devoid of inflection, now carried a subtle, almost imperceptible waver.

[Unregistered Outcome Detected.]

[Participant Performance Has Surpassed Existing Standard Reward Tiers.]

[Recalculating…]

[Recalculating…]

[Recalculation Attempt Failed.]

A subtle shift registered on Max’s countenance.

Even the trial’s formidable system struggled to properly categorize this result.

Subsequently, the heavens fractured with a blinding luminescence as the ultimate verdict descended.

[Final Performance Rating: PERFECT]

This single word hovered above the arena, rendered in monumental golden script, casting its brilliance upon all below.

An imposing pressure emanated across the battlefield. It was not aggressive, but rather conveyed an ancient, solemn authority, as if the very architects of this inheritance space had formally recognized the outcome.

The system’s voice articulated further.

[Perfect Performance is not encompassed within the four publicly declared reward tiers.]

[Perfect Performance is designated for participants achieving total supremacy, exceeding all projected benchmarks.]

[Conditions Satisfied:]

[Annihilation of all assigned adversaries.]

[Victory achieved across significant realm disparity.]

[Demonstration of supreme combat acumen.]

[Utilization of rudimentary sword arts to transcend advanced metrics.]

[Absence of external assistance confirmed.]

[Eligibility Verified.]

Max released a slow breath, the colossal golden word mirroring in his gaze.

So, the four reward tiers publicly proclaimed were not the complete picture.

A hidden, fifth level had always existed.

This was not for common prodigies.

Nor even for those who excelled.

It was reserved exclusively for an individual who utterly dismantled the trial’s very expectations.

The system’s messaging interface transitioned once more.

[Reward Upgrade Protocol Initiated.]

[Perfect Grade Sword Inheritance Commencing Preparation.]

[Apex Comprehension Chamber Activating.]

The arena floor rumbled as every remnant of the defeated puppets dissolved into cascading streams of light. Ancient sword engravings etched across the battlefield ignited rhythmically, and from the arena’s core, a colossal stone dais ascended from the depths.

Resting atop this platform was a portal.`