Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 Chapter 1319 Final Battle - 6

Mark’s playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a frigid intensity as he prepared to demonstrate the true weight of a crownbearer's dominion. Pointing a lone finger toward the distant horizon, he commanded the world to respond with a terrifying display of power.

Far beyond the reach of the naked eye, the planet's crust began to rip apart, unzipping reality itself. Massive regions of land were compressed and folded into a singular point of infinite density, which was then launched toward Max like the collapsing core of a world. This strike was not composed of simple fire or lightning; it was the physical manifestation of inevitability—a condensed fate designed to obliterate anything in its path.

As the core surged forward, the fabric of time warped and slowed around it, causing concepts like distance to become meaningless. Max reacted by stabilizing the surrounding space with his fifth-level Concept of Space, then swung his blade with the absolute authority of the Concept of Severing Sword.

Rather than a physical collision, the blade sliced through the core’s predetermined destiny. The attack was cleaved into two harmless currents of dissolving reality that dissipated into nothingness before they could reach him.

Without pausing for even a second, Mark hoisted his crown high. He uttered a command that transcended sound, causing the very sky to turn inside out. Stars manifested in the daylight, each one radiating divine authority instead of mere light.

They descended one by one, acting not as meteors but as instruments of divine judgment that erased the atmosphere and rewrote the landscape upon impact. Wherever a star struck, existence vanished for a heartbeat before violently reforming in a distorted shape. Max countered this cataclysm by harmonizing his fifth-level concepts.

Bolts of lightning surged upward to shatter the falling stars, while black flames consumed their divine essence and ice solidified the resulting shockwaves to stop them from spreading. Despite his efforts to mitigate the destruction, the sheer magnitude of the assault caused the world to tremble, and deep fissures snaked across the distant terrain.

Realizing that pure devastation would not be enough to crush his foe, Mark shifted his strategy. His eyes narrowed as the crown’s divine power began to flow inward. Suddenly, the world itself began to lose its memory of Max.

The air failed to acknowledge his presence, the earth refused to bear his weight, and causality itself attempted to sever Max’s connection to the current moment. This was the erasure of a god—an attack that targeted not the physical form, but the very right to exist.

Max immediately felt his artificial soul groan under the pressure, yet his gaze remained steady. Invoking the Concept of Severing Sword at its peak, he swung his blade—not at Mark, but at himself—severing the collapsing chains of causality that sought to delete him.

‘I can cut the causality of Mark’s techniques, but can I sever the link between him and that crown, even for a moment?’ Max pondered as the struggle continued.

Space buckled as the erasure failed. Through sheer force of will, Max reasserted his presence, standing firm as reality was forced to acknowledge him once more.

Mark let out another laugh, though it was now tinged with a trace of shock. He struck the ground with his foot, and the planet’s heartbeat thundered in response. Titanic pillars of divine authority erupted from the depths, each representing a fundamental law: growth, decay, order, and destruction.

Instead of striking Max directly, these pillars began to orbit him, creating a divine cage that contracted with the weight of the world’s own laws. Max fought back by expanding his spatial domain to its boundary, releasing ripples of severing intent that tore through the pillars' foundations.

Every strike caused a fundamental law to shriek and crumble. The prison broke apart violently, showering the sealed battlefield with shards of fractured authority.

With every pass, it was evident that Mark’s techniques were not just powerful; they were godlike manifestations of absolute rule. Simultaneously, Max’s ability to counter and defend was equally horrifying, as his fifth-level concepts allowed him to reject the very nature of godhood.

Their confrontation no longer looked like a duel between two fighters; it was a collision between the world’s will and the defiance of a single mortal who would not bow. For several minutes, the battle maintained a savage rhythm with no clear victor. Max kept Mark occupied by constantly alternating between offense and defense, denying him any momentum.

At times, Max surged forward with relentless sword paths that rent space itself; at others, he stood his ground and dismantled Mark’s divine strikes with surgical precision.

The sealed realm shook incessantly as shockwaves traveled across the land. Even with Max’s spatial laws attempting to hold the world together, jagged tears appeared in reality that failed to mend.

To any witness, Mark appeared to be the dominant force, his divine energy overflowing without limit. Yet, Max never wavered or retreated. His actions remained calm and calculated, as if he were biding his time rather than fighting for his life.

Suddenly, Max’s eyes sharpened, and Lucien sensed an immediate shift in the atmosphere. The chaotic exchange halted as Max vanished, reappearing instantly in front of Mark. He was so close that the crown’s divine aura weighed down on him like a mountain. There was no grand buildup or elemental spectacle.

Max raised his blade and channeled a single power: the pure, fifth-level Concept of Severing Sword, refined to its ultimate state. In a steady voice, he named the technique. "One Sword. All Conquered." It was the exact move, stance, and path he had utilized previously.

Mark laughed by instinct, lifting his hand to deflect the strike just as he had done before.

That laughter was cut short.

The sword glided through Mark’s hand as if it were nothing but mist, severing the very authority that granted his body immortality. The blade didn't stop there. It moved forward without resistance, carving through his arm, his chest, and his divine core in a single fluid motion. There was no blast, no clash, and no shockwave.

This was the most potent strike Max had ever unleashed.

Mark’s body split cleanly into two sections, drifting apart in the air as the space between the halves groaned under the impact of the strike. For the first time since reclaiming his peak power, Mark’s face was frozen in true shock, his eyes wide as he looked at his divided self.

However, he did not perish.

As befitting an immortal crownbearer, a violent surge of divine energy erupted from the crown, using absolute authority to pull the two halves of his body back together.