Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 Chapter 1275 Max Taking Action

Max did not pause. He shifted his body and moved toward Victor next. Victor was already reacting, his Azure Dragon Bloodline roaring to life as azure light surged around his frame. He lunged forward with a reinforced fist to meet Max's incoming strike.

The punch collided with Max's blade, and this time Victor was not instantly overwhelmed. The draconic force around his fist exploded into a shockwave that pushed against the sword, halting it for a brief moment before Victor was forced backward. His body spiraled through the air, but he planted his feet midflight and regained control.

Michael rushed toward Victor immediately, placing himself between Max and the momentarily staggered Victor. Lightning erupted from his spear as he thrust it toward Max in a strong interception.

Max parried the spear tip with the flat of his blade and spun his body gracefully, redirecting the lightning bolt away while delivering a kick toward Michael's ribs. Michael crossed his arms to block, and the impact sent him sliding through the air. Before he could fall behind completely, Victor caught Michael's shoulder and stabilized him.

Seraphina ignited her golden flames and soared downward from above, sending a burning plume toward Max to relieve pressure from the two. Max tilted his sword and cleaved the flames apart without losing pace, yet the brief delay allowed Daniel to charge from the side. His black flames swept toward Max like tendrils seeking to envelop their target. Max stepped through them cleanly, but the attempt forced him to shift direction.

That shift created an opening.

Chris and Christine seized it instantly. Their twin inheritances awakened together. Chris's ice condensed into a sharp gust that lowered the temperature throughout the battlefield, while Christine's flames circled around the ice, stabilizing it and transforming it into a thicker, more robust force.

They combined the opposing energies into a spiraling blast that shot toward Max from behind. Max sensed the attack and spun, bringing his sword down in a heavy arc that cleaved the spiraling blast apart. Steam and shards scattered through the air, clouding Max's immediate surroundings.

Arthur reentered the battlefield from the left. This time he created several swords rather than one. They flew ahead of him like an advancing formation, and he charged behind them. Max flicked his wrist and shattered each one as they approached, but Arthur used the openings between the broken blades to slip in closer and force Max into redirecting multiple angles at once.

Victor and Michael saw this and rushed in from different sides, turning the engagement into a three-direction assault.

Their movements were not random. The seven squad leaders fought with a growing awareness that Max wanted them to attack together. Max's earlier words, combined with the way he paused only long enough to allow them to regroup, made it clear he was not trying to crush them.

He was forcing them to coordinate under pressure. Every time they faltered, he attacked. Every time they pushed together, he allowed the clash to deepen.

Seraphina and Daniel shot forward simultaneously. Their flames, golden and black, struck toward Max from two opposite angles. Max met them both with one smooth turn of his sword. The blade drew a circular line in the air that dispersed the flames around him while pushing both Seraphina and Daniel backward.

Before Max could follow up, Chris and Christine descended from above, their fused energy forming an enormous shield that crashed toward him. Max cut through it with a rising slash, but the twins had already retreated to give Arthur and Michael an opening to attack again.

For the next several breaths, Max and the seven squad leaders engaged in a chaotic but structured exchange. Max advanced with calm precision, striking at the strongest points of their formation to force them to react. The squad leaders defended, countered, supported, and covered for one another as quickly as their bodies could move.

Victor intercepted heavy blows while Michael broke Max's angles with lightning thrusts. Seraphina and Daniel shaped the battlefield with burning waves that forced Max to adjust his steps.

Chris and Christine continuously merged their powers, creating unpredictable bursts of fire and frost that disrupted Max's rhythm. Arthur filled every gap with sword projections, keeping Max from singling out anyone too easily.

Although Max remained utterly dominant, the squad leaders began to sense something important. Their bodies hurt. Their energy was being drained quickly. Their instincts told them this was a battle they could not win.

Yet at the same time, they felt strangely exhilarated. Max was not simply overpowering them. He was shaping their movements, guiding their responses, and pushing them toward limits they had never tested together.

Every time one of them lagged behind, Max redirected his attack there. Every time they regrouped properly, he allowed the exchange to continue a moment longer.

They realized the truth.

Max was training them. He was using his overwhelming strength to force them to fight as one cohesive unit, teaching them through raw pressure and danger.

Their breaths grew heavier. Their bodies trembled. Their attacks became more desperate.

Max's strikes became sharper.

This was his lesson: unity forged under overwhelming force, strengthened in the heat of a battle they could not win but had no choice but to endure.

The training continued relentlessly for several hours, and every passing minute pushed the seven squad leaders deeper into exhaustion.

Max did not slow down even once. He maintained pressure with unwavering consistency, never allowing them to relax their guard, never giving them enough time to fully recover after a clash. His strikes were always heavy enough to force them to react yet precise enough to avoid fatal damage.

The squad leaders countered him with everything they possessed, but the strain on their bodies grew evident as the sun slowly drifted across the sky.

Victor's dragon aura flickered at the edges as fatigue began to eat into his stamina. Michael's lightning grew uneven as sparks slipped from his control. Seraphina's golden flames wavered with diminishing intensity.

Daniel's black flames trembled like unstable shadows. Chris and Christine struggled to maintain the delicate fusion of their elements, and the cracks that formed in their combined attacks exposed their fading strength. Arthur's swords, once sharp and numerous, appeared slower and less refined, showing clear signs of depletion.

By the time several hours had passed, they hovered in the air with labored breaths, their clothes scorched and torn in various places. Sweat dripped down their faces as they struggled to stay upright, their chests rising and falling heavily.

Max glanced at them with a calm expression that held a touch of satisfaction. Unlike them, his breathing had not changed. His aura had not weakened. His posture remained steady, as though the entire multi-hour exchange had been nothing more than a warm-up.

He lowered his sword and gave them a small smile. "Rest for a bit," he said in a tone that held no mockery. "The party will be upon us very soon."

The moment he said those words, the squad leaders understood what he meant. His earlier instruction, his demand to coordinate, and the pressure he had placed on them all led to a simple conclusion. This training was never meant to be about testing them. It was preparation for what was coming.

They exchanged exhausted glances before nodding toward him and dispersing toward their individual camps. Each one of them settled down to restore their strength, knowing they would need every bit of power for what lay ahead.