Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 Chapter 1645 Finding Others!

Max Morgan.

For a fleeting moment, the entire clearing fell into a hushed silence.

Numerous disciples visibly froze the instant his countenance became recognizable. Their expressions immediately turned grave as the memories from the prior two trials resurfaced in their minds.

"It's Max Morgan..."

"The one who secured first place in both trials?"

"The genius who vanquished his own reflection in a mere five seconds?"

A subtle current of apprehension began to permeate the assembled group.

Even those disciples who had been poised to engage in combat moments before unconsciously ceased their movements, fixing Max with looks of caution and heightened vigilance.

After all, Max's exhibitions in the preceding trials had been nothing short of astonishing.

Whether it was his dominance in the Weapon Master Trial or his near-instantaneous defeat of his own reflection in the second trial, he had already ascended to the status of one of the most discussed prodigies among all participating third-rate forces.

Hovering above the clearing, Max remained poised in the air, seven-colored lightning faintly crackling around his form. His demeanor was one of relaxed composure as his gaze slowly surveyed the disciples below, as if he were merely observing a collection of common individuals.

That very serenity alone imposed immense pressure upon everyone present.

One participant, tightly gripping a longsword, swallowed audibly before murmuring,

"This is not good..."

Another disciple narrowed his eyes, carefully probing Max's aura.

"If it truly is him..." he stated with gravity, "then not a single one of us can contend with him individually."

However, just as the atmosphere grew increasingly fraught with tension, a sharp-eyed young man abruptly frowned with deep concern.

"Wait."

His gaze sharpened intently.

"Something is amiss."

Several individuals immediately turned their attention toward him.

The young man continued to scrutinize Max with utmost care, his expression gradually undergoing a transformation.

"This cultivation..."

The surrounding participants quickly re-assessed Max's aura.

Then, abruptly—

Astoundment bloomed across multiple countenances.

"He's only at the ninth level of the Law Awakening Realm?"

"What?"

"That cannot possibly be correct!"

A palpable ripple surged through the clearing instantaneously.

The apprehensive expressions that had previously adorned many participants’ faces began to shift.

A robust disciple, hefting a colossal battle axe, suddenly erupted into booming laughter.

"Hahaha! So that's the reason!"

He mockingly pointed his axe towards Max.

"I was wondering why his aura felt weaker than anticipated."

Another participant immediately scoffed after more closely discerning Max's cultivation level.

"So the renowned Max Morgan is actually less powerful than everyone present here."

The woman wielding twin daggers narrowed her eyes, observing Max with a composed demeanor.

"In the preceding trials, inherent talent and comprehension played a significant role," she remarked deliberately. "But this trial presents a different scenario."

Her lips curved into a faint smile.

"This is a battlefield of survival."

Several disciples voiced their concurrence.

Following their entry into the Soul Sealing Painting, every participant experienced a suppression of their cultivation to the peak of the Law Refinement Realm. The majority of the disciples present had originally possessed cultivation levels exceeding this threshold, thereby placing them on an equal footing at the peak of the Law Refinement Realm.

Max, however, was an anomaly.

His actual cultivation stage was merely the ninth level of the Law Awakening Realm.

Even after entering the confines of the painting, his manifested aura remained noticeably less potent than theirs.

The disciple armed with a black saber gazed at Max before letting out a soft chuckle.

"So the most formidable genius from the prior trials is, in reality, the weakest individual here in terms of raw cultivation."

Another disciple crossed his arms, exuding confidence.

"Hmph. Talent is futile when one's cultivation is excessively low."

"A difference of one or two minor realms might be negligible under normal circumstances," a spear-wielding participant added placidly, "but the chasm between the Law Awakening Realm and the apex of the Law Refinement Realm is substantial."

His eyes flickered with a subtle gleam.

"That disparity is sufficient to utterly crush him."

The prevailing atmosphere underwent a gradual transformation.

The apprehension that had initially gripped everyone concerning Max slowly transmuted into burgeoning confidence and evident avarice.

A young man brandishing a heavy hammer guffawed loudly.

"We truly allowed ourselves to be frightened for no reason."

Another disciple sneered coldly.

"In this particular trial, we actually hold the advantage over him."

The black saber disciple nodded slowly, his gaze remaining fixed upon Max.

"Regardless of how prodigious his talent may be, cultivation remains the bedrock of power," he stated calmly. "This is not a trial where sheer talent alone can triumph over all obstacles."

The woman with the twin daggers, however, maintained a degree of caution.

"Even so, do not underestimate him carelessly," she cautioned softly. "Anyone capable of achieving first place in two consecutive trials cannot be considered ordinary."

"Naturally," the warrior wielding the battle axe responded with a broad grin. "However, there are more than fifteen of us present, and all of us have reached the pinnacle of the Law Refinement Realm."

With a confident air, he shifted his axe onto his shoulder.

"And he," he gestured dismissively, "is merely a cultivator at the ninth level of Law Awakening."

A wave of smiles spread across the faces of several onlookers.

The fear that had previously gripped their hearts had all but vanished.

In its place, a palpable sense of greed emerged.

A cultivator armed with a spear suddenly narrowed his eyes, lost in thought.

"Actually," he mused aloud, "this could be a significant opportunity for us."

The others turned their attention towards him, intrigued.

"If killing other participants grants us killing points," he continued, his voice measured, "then someone like Max must possess an immense quantity of points."

The instant these words were uttered, a spark ignited in the eyes of several disciples.

A young man, carrying a hammer on his back, drew in a sharp breath.

"He’s practically a walking treasure trove."

Another disciple let out a greedy chuckle.

"If we take him down here, our rankings could skyrocket into the top fifty instantly."

The expressions of the surrounding participants slowly contorted into something more dangerous.

The disciple with the black saber deliberately raised his weapon, aiming it towards Max.

"Then it’s agreed," he stated, his voice devoid of warmth.

His gaze surveyed the others present.

"We’ll suspend our internal conflicts for the time being."

"We’ll work together first…"

His eyes finally settled on Max, who was positioned above the clearing.

"…and eliminate him."

One by one, the disciples surrounding the area nodded in unanimous agreement.

In a mere moment, the very same individuals who, moments before, were intent on killing each other, now formed a temporary pact.

Their weapons were slowly brought up, aimed skyward.

All their previously scattered killing intent now converged, focusing solely on Max.

Meanwhile, Max, positioned above, quietly absorbed their entire discussion without the slightest interjection.

The seven-colored lightning crackling around his body pulsed faintly as the corners of his lips gradually curled upwards.

There was no trace of anger on his face.

No hint of frustration.

Only a profound sense of amusement.

"They genuinely believe that cultivation level alone dictates the outcome of a battle," Max mused internally, observing the confident group below.

The subtle smile gracing his face widened slightly.