Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 Chapter 1624 To a different world!

As Max approached the portal situated atop the platform, fresh trial notifications materialized before him once more.

[Perfect Grade Sword Inheritance Chamber Unlocked.]

[Enter Portal to Receive Reward.]

Max cast a single glance at the portal, then surveyed the devastated arena surrounding him.

This opportunity was hard-won through his struggles.

Without a moment's hesitation, he advanced and stepped through.

The instant his form passed the threshold, a potent surge of power coursed through his being. The world dissolved into a blur once more, but this time, the sensation differed fundamentally from prior teleports. It felt more profound, more ancient, as if he were traversing not merely space, but epochs of time and history.

Subsequently, the chaotic flux subsided.

Max opened his eyes to find himself standing within an entirely transformed realm.

Above, the heavens stretched, vast and luminous, painted in hues of pale azure and shimmering silver. Gentle breezes swept across an infinite expanse of short, verdant grass. In the far distance, mountain ranges loomed, while rivers of crystalline water meandered through the landscape like glistening threads.

However, what immediately commanded Max's attention was not the picturesque panorama.

It was the inhabitants.

Numerous human figures could be observed moving across the plains. Some were clad in simple tunics. Others bore swords strapped to their backs. A select few sat cross-legged, immersed in meditation. Their appearances were diverse, yet each exuded the distinct aura of a swordsman.

Even more peculiar was the fact that none of them seemed to register Max's abrupt manifestation.

They proceeded with their activities naturally, conversing amongst themselves, practicing their techniques, walking, and living as if he were entirely unseen.

An illusionary world.

Or perhaps a preserved echo of a bygone era.

'Is this a genuine world, or a construct of the trial?' Max mused, his gaze sweeping across the surroundings. His Dimensional Sovereign Body was incapable of discerning its reality, leading Max to suspect he might have been transported to an actual place by the trial.

Before further contemplation could occur, Max noted that the vast majority of these individuals had congregated in the distance.

Thousands formed a broad circle, all oriented towards a single point, their expressions a mixture of reverence, solemnity, and intense focus.

Max followed the direction of their collective gaze.

Then, his eyes narrowed with sharp intensity.

At the heart of this assembly rested a colossal boulder.

It was immense, rising like a miniature mountain from the earth, its surface a dark, age-weathered gray. At first glance, it appeared to be nothing more than ancient stone.

But the instant Max's senses brushed against it, his very core trembled.

A formidable sword intent erupted from the boulder, akin to an invisible deluge.

The pressure was overwhelming, ancient, and so exquisitely pure that the very atmosphere surrounding it seemed to be geometrically cleaved by its presence. Every passing breeze near it carried an edge of sharpness. Every blade of grass in its vicinity instinctively recoiled.

Max concentrated his perception further.

Then, he discerned them.

Countless sword marks were etched across the entirety of the boulder's surface.

Some appeared as slender lines, merely a finger's width. Others were broad fissures, deep enough for a man to stand within. Certain marks intersected in chaotic configurations, while others stood solitary, possessing a simple, profound dignity.

Each individual mark radiated a potent sword intent.

Not as faded vestiges.

Not as dying remnants.

They were living sword intents, preserved through an unfathomable span of years.

The moment Max truly comprehended their significance, his expression shifted dramatically.

His Severing Sword Concept vibrated within him.

The very concept he had meticulously forged through relentless combat and profound insight was being palpably suppressed simply by his proximity to this boulder. It felt akin to a small village stream being dwarfed by an boundless ocean.

Even more astonishingly, his nascent Cosmic Path for Sword, intrinsically linked to a far grander way, also seemed to recede under the immense pressure emanating from those etchings.

This was not indicative of any inherent weakness in his path.

Rather, it underscored the absurdly elevated mastery embodied within these sword marks.

Far surpassing his current capacity for comprehension.

Exceeding anything he had previously conceived as possible.

Max gradually regulated his breathing, his gaze fixed upon the colossal boulder.

What manner of being could have inscribed these marks?

What caliber of swordsman could leave behind traces so potent that, even after millennia, they could still subdue the conceptual frameworks of later generations?

And why had the so-called Perfect Grade reward led him to this exact location?

For the first time since commencing the Smelting Trial, Max experienced not elation, but a profound sense of genuine reverence.

Max continued to gaze at the enormous boulder for several sustained breaths before compelling himself to regain composure.

The oppressive aura radiating from the multitude of sword marks was too intense to disregard. Every primal instinct within him clamored to commence immediate study, yet he understood the folly of attempting to comprehend without first grasping its origin.

He surveyed his surroundings and soon detected a young man positioned nearby, appearing to be of a similar age. This individual was attired in gray robes, a sword secured at his waist, and was intently observing the boulder with an expression of deep concentration.

Max moved closer and gently placed a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Brother, could you offer me some assistance?"

The young man knitted his brows, annoyed by the interruption. He spun around, irritation clouding his features, but as his gaze fell upon Max's youthful appearance, his anger softened considerably.

"What is it you want?"

Max gestured towards the colossal stone.

"What is this boulder, and why do I sense such potent sword intent radiating from it?"

The young man blinked a couple of times.

He then regarded Max as if he were looking at someone utterly clueless.

"Are you jesting with me?"

His voice ascended, attracting a few curious looks from those nearby.

"How could you possibly not know what this boulder is?"

Max cleared his throat with a touch of awkwardness and rapidly concocted an explanation.

"Ahem... I've truly never ventured far from home before. Today, my uncle brought me here, and I chanced upon this location."

The young man still shook his head, his expression one of sheer disbelief.

"Even so, how could you be unaware of this?"

His eyes narrowed, suspicion lacing his gaze.

"Tell me truthfully. Did you just recently ascend to the Divine Realm from a mortal plane?"

Max immediately affirmed with over-the-top sincerity.

"Yes. Precisely that. I only ascended not too long ago."

The young man's suspicion vanished in an instant.

"Ah, that certainly explains your lack of knowledge."

He turned his attention back to the boulder, and as he resumed speaking, his tone shifted to one of deep reverence, absent moments before.

"The sword marks etched upon this boulder are far from ordinary remnants. In reality, no one can definitively ascertain their origin. Countless records exist, alongside numerous rumors and fabricated tales. Truth and falsehood have intertwined for so long that merely a handful can now distinguish between them."

He paused momentarily before continuing.

"However, the most ancient and prominent legend posits that every single mark upon this stone was left by a singular individual."

"The Sword Saint."