Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 Chapter 1329 Reunions

Max descended toward the Valora Continent, his eyes scanning the terrain as old memories surged within him.

From the eastern plains to the western trading hubs, and from the northern mountain villages to the southern shores and the great central heartland, the land appeared almost identical to how it looked when he first departed for the Middle Domain.

The marks of conflict had vanished. Ruined metropolises were restored to their former glory. Verdant fields stretched out once more, and the roads teemed with travelers.

Life pulsed through every corner of the continent. A thick atmosphere of bewilderment hung in the air, intertwined with reverence and shock. People stood paralyzed, inspecting their own limbs, touching their skin, and pressing their hands against their hearts as they struggled to grasp the current reality.

Only a short time ago, many had perished under the serrated claws of demons or within the heat of hellish flames, their existence snuffed out ruthlessly. Now, they stood beneath the open sky once more, breathing and thinking. While some muttered frantic prayers, others sobbed without restraint. A few were convinced they had entered the afterlife, unable to fathom how the finality of death could be overturned.

These were the same mortals who had been butchered by the twin demons and the myriad of horrors unleashed during the struggle. Every single soul had been pulled back from the void by Max, alongside every other inhabitant of Acaris who had fallen during the long, savage war. Death’s hold on the world had been forcibly broken, returning the living to their rightful domain.

In that instant, Max’s form manifested high above the Valora Continent. His aura was simultaneously tranquil and peerless. Channeling his mana, he projected his likeness and his voice across the entire realm, ensuring every city, hamlet, and isolated outpost could perceive him vividly.

"Citizens, I am Max Voidwalker," Max announced, his tone firm and resonant as it rolled across the landscape. "You may also recognize me as Max Morgan."

As soon as his name reached their ears, the Valora Continent erupted. A tidal wave of cheering surged upward. Shouts of ecstasy, relief, and profound thanks filled the heavens. Many collapsed to their knees in worship, while others thrust their fists toward the sky. Even those who couldn't comprehend the mechanics of the miracle felt their terror dissolve at the mere sight of him.

To the masses, Max was a savior, and the sound of his voice brought a long-awaited peace to their souls.

"The conflict against the demons has reached its conclusion," Max declared, his words ringing with absolute authority. "We have wiped every demon from the face of this world. Not a single one remains. You shall never have to fear their shadow again."

The roar of the crowd intensified, with many people weeping uncontrollably as the suffocating dread they had endured for so long finally evaporated.

"Victory is ours," Max stated. "You may finally rest. There shall be no more wars, no further invasions, and no more agony of this nature. It is finished."

His proclamation took root in the hearts of the people like a decree etched into the fabric of destiny. For the first time in an age, the world felt truly secure.

As Max’s words echoed, a collective breath of relief washed over the Valora Continent like a calming tide. Those who had been paralyzed by shock finally relaxed their posture, feeling as though an immense burden had been lifted from their shoulders.

Some fell to the ground, others gripped their chests, and many succumbed to their emotions, pulling their kin into desperate embraces. Every person there had tasted death in some form. They had witnessed their parents fall, seen their children perish in their arms, and felt their own consciousness fade in moments of absolute helplessness.

To be standing there again, restored and breathing, and to be told the war was truly over was almost more than their hearts could handle.

Happiness and sorrow intertwined until they were indistinguishable. Tears were shed not just for what was lost, but for the miraculous return of what they loved. People whispered apologies to the resurrected standing beside them, vowing to never again disregard the value of life.

Others remained in a silent embrace, terrified that speaking might cause the miracle to shatter like glass.

Suddenly, a lone voice cried out from the throng.

"Max Morgan!"

Another voice joined in, louder and choked with feeling.

"Max Morgan!"

In seconds, the chant spread like a forest fire. From the eastern territories to the western hubs, from the northern peaks to the southern coastlines, the voices unified into a deafening roar.

"Max Morgan!"

"Max Morgan!"

"Max Morgan!"

The name thundered across the five regions of the central continent, carried by the winds and amplified by mana. Even in the far south, where Max had never walked and his reputation was but a distant rumor, people screamed his name until their voices grew hoarse. They didn't need to have witnessed his combat to understand his deed. Their own lives were the only proof required.

In their eyes, Max was their ultimate hero. He was the one who stood firm against the Young Monarch when the world first trembled. He was the one who stayed when demons ravaged the lands and slaughtered indiscriminately. Time and again, when total despair loomed, Max had appeared.

Within their hearts, the boundary between a hero and a god began to fade. Though Max might never claim such a title for himself, it was certain that in the coming years, the inhabitants of this world would revere him as a deity.

At that moment, several figures streaked through the sky and halted before Max. King Magnar led the group, his royal attire tattered and blood-stained, his usually stoic face twisted in disbelief.

Accompanying him were Knight Kate, James Garfield, and the various leaders of the East and West, all wearing expressions caught between desperate hope and lingering dread. They had witnessed too much carnage to easily accept a miracle.

"Is your word true?" King Magnar questioned, his voice shaking despite his attempt at royal dignity. "Have we truly triumphed?"

Max met his gaze with a calm nod. "It is true. We have won."

King Magnar stared at him for a long moment, searching for any sign that this was merely a cruel illusion. Then, a sudden realization struck him, and his face clouded with anxiety. "What of the young talents who were inside the Tower of Truth when the demons struck? What happened to the children?" he asked urgently.

A gentle smile touched Max’s lips. Without a word, he lifted his hand and triggered one of the Life Space Rings. A distortion rippled through the air, and a moment later, dozens of youths appeared in the sky. They were unhurt, though confused, and very much alive.

"Father!" Crown Prince Aelric cried out as soon as he spotted King Magnar. Tears poured down his face as he flew forward to embrace the King.

Similar reunions broke out all around them. Amelia stood frozen for a split second before sprinting toward her mother. Jack and Henry were caught between laughter and tears as they found their families.

Revenna pressed her hands to her mouth, trembling before falling into her father’s arms. Bruce stood perfectly still, gazing at the familiar faces as if fearing they would evaporate if he blinked.

They had been certain that the Valora Continent was destroyed. They believed their loved ones were gone forever. Seeing them alive shattered the grief they had carried since the massacre, replacing it with an overwhelming flood of joy. The air grew thick with laughter, sobbing, and the names of those who were once thought dead.

Max watched the scene in silence, a soft smile on his face. This had been one of his most painful regrets—not being present when Valora was engulfed in flames, and the belief that he had failed his people. Witnessing these families reunited mended something broken within him, lifting a heavy burden he had carried since the war's inception.