Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100

Chapter 1969: Ancestor of Voidwalker!

The old man’s voice echoed across the First Progenitor Arena, calm yet heavy enough to silence the chaos that had swallowed the battlefield.

"You dare attack my descendant in front of me?"

The four ancestral figures that had started descending from the sacred clan platforms froze in midair. Their bodies weren’t fully physical yet, but the pressure coming off them was enough to make the whole arena feel like it had sunk beneath four ancient heavens. One stood wrapped in white-gold light, his eyes burning like sacred suns.

One was covered in crimson-black battle aura, his armor lined with old scars and blood iron marks. One stayed half-hidden beneath a veil of shadow and purple feathers, silent and eerie. The last was surrounded by green-silver spatial roots, his old eyes filled with cold fury as he stared at both Max and the Voidwalker Ancestor.

The Voidwalker Ancestor stood above the abandoned fifth end. Compared to the other four, he looked simple. He wore only a black robe marked with faint silver dimensional rings.

His long gray hair drifted slightly in the wind, and his eyes looked like two quiet stars resting inside an endless night. He didn’t release overwhelming rage. He didn’t roar. He didn’t even raise his voice after that first sentence.

Yet the abandoned fifth end glowed beneath his feet. The dark star and broken dimensional rings above it pulsed brighter and brighter, and every pulse made the bloodlines of the Four Sacred Clans tremble, as if being forced to remember a history they’d tried hard to bury.

Max, still in his enormous black dragon form, looked at the old man in silence. The Dimensional Keeper legacy across his scales resonated with the Voidwalker Ancestor’s presence. It wasn’t the simple resonance of similar techniques.

It felt like blood recognizing blood, legacy recognizing its source, and a forgotten seat recognizing the return of its heir. For the first time since the Four Sacred Clans had tried to imprison him, Max felt like the battlefield was no longer completely against him.

The pressure binding his dragon body had loosened. The greater seals from the four clan heads had cracked. Even the ancestors of the Four Sacred Clans had paused.

The Valerius ancestor’s eyes narrowed. "Voidwalker, you still dare call him your descendant?"

The Voidwalker Ancestor turned toward him slowly. "He carries our blood. Of course he’s my descendant."

The Ashbourne ancestor let out a cold laugh laced with killing intent. "Your blood? You talk like that’s something to be proud of. That bloodline should have stayed buried with the rest of your clan."

The Ravenhart ancestor’s voice drifted across the arena like a whisper from a grave. "The abandoned end was sealed. Your name was erased from the sacred records. Your descendants were forbidden from ever coming back. Yet now one’s appeared, holding the stolen legacy in his hands."

Max’s dragon eyes sharpened.

Stolen legacy. That phrase again.

The Evercrest ancestor’s expression was colder than anyone else’s. His descendant, the Evercrest patriarch, had just been badly injured by Max’s Black Dragon Cataclysm Breath, and the wound still burned with black-gold flames across his chest despite several elders’ efforts to suppress it.

That humiliation had already pushed the Evercrest side into fury.

The Evercrest ancestor raised his hand, and the green-silver roots beneath his feet coiled like living serpents. "This boy carries the blood of traitors, and he’s woken up the abandoned Voidwalker end. He has to be sealed, just like the others."

Those words spread across the whole arena.

Just like the others.

Max’s gaze turned colder.

’So there are others.’

The Voidwalker Ancestor’s expression barely shifted, but the air around him grew slightly heavier.

"The others," he repeated softly.

The Valerius ancestor looked at him with stern eyes. "Don’t pretend you’ve forgotten. After the Voidwalker Clan betrayed the sacred pact and stole the legacy that should have belonged to all five clans together, the judgment was already made. Your line was sealed. Your descendants were sealed. Your ancestral end was abandoned. That was the decision of the Four Sacred Clans."

"The four clans," the Voidwalker Ancestor said, his voice still calm. "Not the five?"

The Ashbourne ancestor’s battle aura flared. "Because the fifth lost the right to stand with us."

The Voidwalker Ancestor looked toward the glowing statue of the First Progenitor. For a brief moment, something old and painful crossed his eyes.

"Did we lose that right," he said, "or did you take it from us after deciding the truth was inconvenient?"

The arena went deathly silent. The younger generation of the Four Sacred Clans didn’t dare breathe too loudly.

Most of them had grown up hearing fragments of old warnings, forbidden names, and vague mentions of a traitorous bloodline. They’d been told the Voidwalker Clan was cursed, dangerous, and sealed for the sins it committed. But no one had ever laid out the full story for them.

Now, standing in the First Progenitor Arena, they could sense the truth might not be as simple as their elders claimed.

The Ravenhart ancestor’s shadow stirred. "Don’t twist the past. The Voidwalker Clan took what should never have been taken."

The Voidwalker Ancestor looked at her. "We protected what should never have been handed over."

The Valerius ancestor’s eyes burned brighter. "Lies."

"Convenient word," the Voidwalker Ancestor replied. "You used it last time too."

The Evercrest ancestor stepped forward in the air, and the spatial roots around him spread toward the abandoned fifth end. "Enough. Whatever words you use, the result won’t change. The boy has woken up the Voidwalker legacy. He carries the stolen inheritance. If he leaves this place, everything we sealed away might come back."

Max’s massive dragon body shifted slightly. His claws pressed against the broken arena floor, and the black-gold scales along his body gave off a faint chaotic glow.

The Vein of Resilience still strengthened his body, the Primordial Bloodline still multiplied his foundation, and the Dimensional Keeper legacy still shimmered across him, but he didn’t attack. Not yet. He wanted to hear more.