Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Chapter 1637 Second Trial

After returning to the mansion where the members of the Black Dragon Clan were staying, Max went straight to meet Lady Virelia and informed her that he was fine. Only after reassuring her did he withdraw quietly to his room, his expression calm but his mind already focused on the next step.

The moment he entered, he did not waste even a breath. His figure blurred and vanished as he stepped into his Dimension of Time. Within that isolated space, where every second stretched far beyond the outside world, Max drew his sword and began practicing the Saint Origin Sword Art.

Time flowed in silence.

Again and again, he repeated the same movements, each strike carrying deeper intent than the last. The memory of the mountain being split so cleanly that even he had failed to notice it lingered in his mind.

He tried to recreate that feeling, to understand the terrifying subtlety hidden within the sword art. His concept resisted at times, clashing faintly with the technique, yet Max did not stop. He forced them together, refining his control with relentless focus.

Hours passed like drifting smoke within that dimension.

By the time the six hours of rest in the outside world came to an end, Max finally lowered his sword. A faint sharpness lingered in his eyes as he stepped out of the Dimension of Time and returned to his room.

Soon after, he made his way back to the square of the Violet Star Palace.

The vast plaza was already filled with disciples from various forces, their voices low as anticipation built in the air. The echoes of the previous trial still lingered in their minds, especially the shocking outcome that had placed Max at the very top.

At that moment, a powerful aura descended from above.

Elder Cael appeared in the sky, his figure standing tall as his gaze swept across the gathered geniuses. The murmurs in the square died down instantly as everyone turned their attention toward him.

"The first trial has concluded," Elder Cael said, his voice steady yet carrying across the entire plaza with ease. "What you have shown so far is only the foundation of your strength. The true test begins now."

He paused briefly, allowing his words to sink in before continuing.

"The second trial is known as the Heavenly Reflection Arena."

A faint ripple spread through the crowd at the unfamiliar name.

"In this trial, each of you will face a reflection of yourself," Elder Cael explained calmly. "This reflection is not merely a copy of your appearance. It will possess your current cultivation, your techniques, and even your combat instincts."

A few expressions changed at once. Some grew serious while others frowned.

"You will not be allowed to rely on luck or brute force alone," he continued. "To pass this trial, you must surpass yourself. You must either defeat your reflection or endure its attacks for a fixed duration of time."

His gaze sharpened slightly.

"However, understand this clearly. Your reflection will not hold back. It will fight with the same intent you would use in a life and death battle. If your will wavers, you will be eliminated."

A brief silence followed his words.

"The rules are simple," Elder Cael said. "You will enter one by one. Once inside, you will be transported into your own battle space. The trial will end when you achieve victory, reach the time limit, or lose consciousness. Your performance will be evaluated based on combat efficiency, control, and adaptability."

He raised his hand slightly, and a series of glowing portals began to form across the square, each one radiating a faint, distorted aura as if reflecting the figures standing before them.

"Step forward when your name is called."

The first name echoed across the plaza.

Without hesitation, a disciple stepped out from the crowd. His expression was tense, yet determined as he approached one of the portals. For a brief moment, he stood before it, took a deep breath, and then stepped inside. His figure vanished instantly.

Soon after, the second name was called.

Another disciple walked forward, his steps slower but steady. He glanced once at the others before entering his portal.

One after another, the disciples began to move.

Some walked with confidence, their expressions calm as if they had already prepared themselves for such a challenge. Others hesitated for a moment before stepping in, their eyes filled with caution. A few clenched their fists tightly, forcing themselves forward despite the pressure.

The portals continued to flicker as each participant disappeared within them.

Max stood quietly among the crowd, his gaze fixed on the glowing entrances ahead. There was no change in his expression, yet a faint sharpness flickered in his eyes.

Facing oneself.

A trial like this was not merely about strength.

It was about breaking limits.

Not long after the first wave of participants disappeared into the portals, the sky above the square began to shimmer with a soft, rippling glow. A massive formation activated silently, and in the next moment, enormous translucent screens unfolded high in the air, spreading across the heavens like a second layer of reality.

Each screen revealed a different battlefield.

Each battlefield showed a disciple standing face to face with an exact reflection of themselves.

A wave of astonishment swept through the crowd as countless battles began to unfold at once. On one screen, two identical figures clashed with brute force, their fists colliding again and again until the very ground beneath them shattered.

On another, a pair of swordsmen moved in perfect harmony, every strike mirrored, every step anticipated before it even began. There were battles filled with roaring flames that consumed entire sections of the arena, while others were dominated by sharp flashes of lightning that tore through the sky like divine punishment.

Every battle carried the same oppressive truth.

No one held an advantage.

Because no one could surpass themselves easily.

The atmosphere grew heavier with each passing second as more disciples were pushed back by their reflections, their expressions turning grim under the relentless pressure.