Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 Chapter 1341 Supervisor Dan

Max entered an unoccupied chamber within the living quarters and sealed the sturdy stone door in his wake. Upon glancing about, a subtle crease formed on his brow. Labeling this spot a room seemed almost too charitable.

The interior held nothing but a rough-hewn stone slab rising straight from the floor, icy and barren, lacking any covers, furniture, or even the slightest wall adornment. Faint illumination trickled from the outer hallway, scarcely brightening the area and lending it a stifling, burdensome atmosphere.

"This is slave-level treatment," Max whispered under his breath while settling onto the stone slab. Its uneven texture bit harshly, but he showed little response to the unease. Drawing in a measured breath, he composed his mind, urging it toward tranquility.

Griping over the surroundings wouldn't alter a thing. Here, as in all places he'd known before, only power and rank held true weight.

"Assuming all proceeds smoothly, Instructor Virelia ought to arrive shortly," Max pondered, reclining a bit and shutting his eyes. He meticulously outlined his forthcoming actions. "For now, I'll claim my liberty by overcoming the Grim Gladiator."

His words carried no boastfulness, only firm assurance. Lingering confined in the Divine Colosseum would merely hinder his progress, and he refused to squander years in pointless clashes just to endure.

Freya's instructions lingered in his thoughts. She'd outlined numerous tasks for him upon reaching the Divine Realm, steps to forge a sturdy base and secure sway independent of mere ties to the Black Dragon Palace. Yet none could proceed without proper standing.

Within the Divine Realm, rank governed all, and in the Black Dragon Palace, rank stemmed from might and alliances.

"The Black Dragon Palace falls under the dominion of seven mighty clans," Max murmured lowly, his eyes fluttering open. "They reign supreme over it all." A light furrow touched his brow as his mind delved further.

To ascend further in the Black Dragon Palace and tap into its genuine treasures, binding himself to one of those seven clans proved essential. Lone cultivators seldom penetrated the heart of such powers, regardless of their gifts.

"Which clan does Instructor Virelia hail from, I wonder," Max mused on, his reflections shifting to Obsidian Dragon City. That locale had offered his initial true insight into the Divine Realm's framework, prior even to his rise.

The memory of his clash with Lucia Grims, a scion of one of the seven mighty clans, remained vivid. From her, he'd grasped a basic sense of the Black Dragon Palace's profound and daunting depths.

"Seven mighty clans command the Black Dragon Palace," Max reflected in quiet. "They hold absolute sway as its genuine masters." His gaze sharpened a touch. For swift elevation, he'd require patronage from one of them. Lacking such aid, even brilliance might face crushing, marginalization, or utter vanishing.

"Lucia holds some view of me already," Max considered, evoking her piercing stare and scheming air. "And she's of the Grims clan." A subtle grin curved his lips. "Should fortune favor me, our paths might cross once more, letting me align with the Grims clan."

Stretching out upon the stone slab, he fixed his sight on the overhead, his features serene yet determined. The Divine Colosseum stood as just the initial hurdle in this fresh realm. Emerging free from it would mark the true launch of his odyssey in the Divine Realm.

Hours slipped by soundlessly as Max recuperated across the full day and night, exploiting the hush of the subterranean quarters to probe the Divine Realm's principles via his fifth-tier notions. Each trial yielded the identical verdict.

These principles ran profounder, thicker, and infinitely more unyielding than any he'd encountered in Acaris. Even notions he'd honed to flawlessness seemed curbed, as though gauged and capped by some immense, invisible force.

Impatience eluded him; rather, he watched, adjusted, and etched into memory each fine response his abilities provoked. When the subtle summons resounded along the buried passages, Max had fully attuned his outlook to this altered domain.

Beneath the Divine Colosseum, in a vast chamber, all ascenders assembled. Hewn from shadowy rock and etched with runes that throbbed softly with Divine Essence, the area loomed imposing.

Long-timers who'd dwelt here for years lounged at ease with lax demeanors, whereas novices like Max held stances more vigilant and wary. Tension flickered in some gazes, while others masked it with feigned boldness.

Regardless of their varying histories, a hush enveloped all, as though awaiting some unavoidable event.

From the gloom emerged a man of middle years. His deep azure locks hung unbound at his nape, and a composed grin graced his face without touching his eyes. His mere aura silenced the hall's low chatter instantly.

"Many of you recognize me," he stated with a casual grin, his tone projecting clearly across the expanse. "Supervisor Dan of the Divine Colosseum, that's who I am. All events here flow through my hands. This domain functions solely by my consent."

His eyes roamed the assembly, pausing on the unfamiliar visages. "New arrivals catch my eye today. Excellent. Heed this well, you recent ones. Daily, you'll engage in three combats." Though light, his delivery weighed grave. "Lose every one in a day, and the following dawn demands fights where your life hangs in balance. No leeway. Thus, claim victory in at least one per day."

A slight grin played on Dan's lips as he pressed on. "Two triumphs grant ease in living. Three bring regal treatment. Treasures, sustenance, healing areas, and perks unknown to laborers become yours."

He halted briefly, allowing the message to settle. "Such is the essence of the Divine Colosseum."

"And freedom?" Max queried steadily, his words slicing the quiet.

Dan's head swiveled toward him, evidently taken aback by the bold interruption. His stare fixed on Max briefly, probing his presence, before a trace of scorn emerged. Noting Max at merely the sixth tier of Divine Rank, Dan fleetingly pondered how such a modest figure had ascended at all.

"Freedom?" Dan echoed, then let out a mild laugh. "Naturally, it exists." His grin turned keen as he went on. "Three combats daily define your routine. Secure wins across three straight days, and on the fourth, post your last victory, you can summon a duel with the Grim Gladiator whenever you deem fit."

Silence reclaimed the hall anew. To the seasoned, the declaration stirred old resentment. To the fresh, it blended aspiration with fear. To Max, it offered pure insight.