Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 Chapter 1439 Heading Deeper!

Max's thoughts grew keener as his initial thrill slowly faded into clear-headed logic.

Grasping a genuine Cosmic Path lay far beyond his present level. While his base remained sturdy, it fell short of the Divine Lord Realm essential for anchoring such a vast direction. Pushing to understand it right now would simply shake his cultivation to its core.

He lifted his eyelids gradually, still holding his seated meditation pose.

"At this point, fully understanding the Cosmic Path isn't possible for me," he pondered intently. "Still, that doesn't stop me from getting ready for it."

The path he'd selected for his sword came back to him.

During his sword intent cultivation, he hadn't just taken in every idea without thought. Instead, he'd honed a specific focus. He'd picked a course for his sword to pursue. That focus brought unity to his intent, letting it build deeper without spreading out.

This same idea could work here too.

Since he couldn't seize the whole Cosmic Path of flames, he'd at least decide the way his flames ought to develop.

Would they stand for total wipeout, wiping away every barrier with crushing certainty?

Would they symbolize targeted ruin, sharp and complete?

Would they mean rebirth from devastation, building power via cleansing?

Any of these picks would steer him down a completely distinct route.

Max let the incoming flame power flow through him again, this round not just withstanding it but studying its details closely. He checked how each thread of concept connected with his bloodline and body.

His bloodline reacted subtly to particular flame traits, especially those tied to control and utter elimination.

But another part of him pushed back against outright destruction.

His sword hadn't been shaped by wild tearing apart. It had been polished through focus and guidance. A guidance of cutting off emotions from the path.

Maybe his flames needed intent over disorder as well.

Max's breaths deepened as he kept meditating inside the third pillar, encircled by silent yet mighty roaring fires.

This challenge wasn't just about outdoing Isabella anymore.

It had turned into a chance to mold the groundwork for what lay ahead.

And that insight held way more worth than mere quickness.

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And that insight held way more worth than mere quickness.

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After almost two hours in deep meditation, Max finally raised his eyes.

The surrounding flames showed no sign of weakening. In fact, they appeared thicker and more choking than earlier. But the real shift was inside him. His awareness had grown finer. The wild heat didn't assault his form like a furious gale anymore. It seemed organized, tiered, nearly see-through in its purpose.

With no delay, he started moving again.

Having caught the core secret of the third pillar, his steps transformed. He didn't have to probe each flicker of fire entering him now. He knew how to sift the intruding power, how to spot its idea-based strands without getting swamped.

His pace surged ahead sharply.

Two thousand four hundred miles.

Two thousand five hundred miles.

Two thousand seven hundred miles.

Two thousand nine hundred miles.

His form pressed on steadily, but with a beat totally unlike Isabella's prior burst of speed. No wild speeding up here. Just exactness. His Divine Essence flowed evenly, and the flame laws grazing him got broken down instead of fought off.

Before long, he entered the fourth pillar.

The change hit right away.

The golden-red tint grew richer, and the force ramped up to a point that made even veteran disciples halt. Max's eyes flicked a bit as he spotted a bunch of disciples meditating nearby.

"Is this the lead group?" he thought to himself quietly.

A few carried the vibe of the front runners who'd passed the first pillar before him. But now they sat with shut eyes, working to steady themselves under the rising weight of the fourth stage.

Max left them alone. He shut his own eyes for a moment.

The force in this spot differed from the third stage.

"It carries more heft," he whispered low. "Though the flame laws haven't ramped up much yet."

He soon saw that the starting part of the fourth pillar focused on raw crushing. The flames bore down hard, checking stamina and base strength before slowly weaving in thicker idea threads.

He opened his eyes again and moved onward.

Three thousand two hundred miles.

Three thousand four hundred miles.

Three thousand six hundred miles.

As he pushed further into the fourth pillar, the setting shifted once more. The heavy crush started mixing with polished flame laws. The concept energy strands sharpened and packed tighter. The farther in he got, the stronger they stood out.

This made him adapt.

He couldn't keep up the nonstop stride any longer. Every few dozen miles, he'd ease off. Sometimes after a hundred miles, he'd halt to reset his breath and energy flow. At other points, just twenty or fifty miles in, he'd stop when he felt a thicker law cluster in the flames.

Every halt came with purpose.

He didn't see them as setbacks. They were chances.

He'd stand firm, shut his eyes for a second, watch the exact form of flame law in that area, and weave the sense into his grasp before pressing on.

This flow slowly turned into his style in the fourth pillar.

Push forward.

Stop.

Grasp.

Tune.

Then push forward once more.

While some charged wildly or got stuck in long sits, Max struck a middle ground between going and thinking.

One step at a time, mile after mile, he forged his way through the fourth stage.

In time, the heavy red light altered faintly.

The edge of the fifth pillar appeared.

Without any show, Max stepped over it.

The force spiked the moment he entered the fifth stage, and the nearby flames turned a deeper, fiercer color.

He'd now reached the mark needed to clear the trial as an outer disciple.

As Max went further in, he started noticing the people spread out in the fifth pillar.

Some disciples sat legs crossed amid the boiling flames, faces strained as they fought to even their breaths and cycle their power against the crushing force. Others kept inching ahead in uneven spurts, their steps much slower and way more strained than before.

Max's eyes scanned them quickly.

He knew some of those faces.