Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 Chapter 1470 Combat Legion Tower

'Nice.'

Max suppressed the thought internally, his face showing outward tranquility as the proclamation of his prizes descended upon the square. Attaining the rank of true disciple and unlocking the ancestral hall of the Black Dragon Clan represented an unquestionable leap ahead.

For the majority of cultivators, such a chance would suffice to meet their aspirations for numerous years. The clan's most potent legacies were gems that endless disciples longed to claim, and those gates now stood ajar for him unhindered.

Yet, his desires extended beyond the Black Dragon Clan's methods now.

Since discovering that his personal bloodline could progress by consuming or merging with a superior heritage, his priorities had realigned. The Imperial Bloodline wasn't just an elite heritage inside the clan. It was a pinnacle of might at the summit of their family tree.

Should he secure it and devise a method to purify or incorporate it, his bloodline's transformation could reach a wholly fresh level. Against that prospect, even the clan's ancient arts paled in importance.

That idea honed his stare.

Almost on reflex, Max shifted his gaze toward Isabella.

A subtle arch formed on his mouth.

To the nearby disciples, it seemed like a poised and assured grin fitting for one who had just earned vast acclaim.

But to Isabella, it came across wholly otherwise. She caught the mild squint in his eyes, the gentle raise of his jaw, and the silent poise emanating from him. To her, it wasn't merely a grin. It was the face of someone towering over her.

It was a gaze that proclaimed dominance silently.

Her hands clenched at her sides.

She despised that look.

She loathed how naturally he displayed it.

She detested having no basis to challenge it.

Regarding the talent shown in the tests, she had been outdone. The Twenty First Layer of the Path to Eternal Flames had shattered even her self-assurance. She had forever viewed herself as one of the finest in her age group, particularly as the budding Saintess of the Black Dragon Clan.

Her Imperial Bloodline was fated to completely activate in a few years, and when it did, she would reign supreme among the youth. That destiny had always seemed assured in her thoughts.

But now, witnessing Max claim extraordinary honors before the ultimate test had started, that assurance wavered.

As though that wasn't sufficient, the recollection of their wager weighed heavily on her ego.

Ten years.

A complete decade serving as his servant.

The shame seared in her heart like a muted blaze. She, adored from youth as the coming Saintess, handled with deference and wariness by seniors and pupils alike, now faced the outcome of her own declaration. The wager had been declared openly. No escape existed without sullying her reputation and her heritage's prestige.

Her position offered no protection from the repercussions.

She sensed the sporadic looks cast her way by adjacent disciples. Though none ventured to jeer her directly, the awareness of her defeat hung in the atmosphere. It marked a blemish on her dignity unlike any she had known before.

She raised her chin a touch, compelling her features into serenity, though within, bitterness roiled.

She abhorred this circumstance.

She abhorred how destiny had twisted.

She abhorred that the individual looming over her now was the same one gripping the trigger to her impending disgrace.

Above all, she abhorred admitting his prowess.

Max met her eyes a bit longer before glancing aside as if nothing noteworthy had transpired. For him, this was just another advance on his journey. For her, it was a gash etched into her ego.

Nearby, the square buzzed with whispers of awe and jealousy, yet between Max and Isabella, a silent strain had stealthily intensified.

'The second trial has ended.'

Grand Elder Waller's profound and unwavering voice resounded over the square as his form materialized overhead the assembly, gliding down gradually with a presence of command that swiftly quelled the ongoing chatter.

The disciples, who had been murmuring about Max's feat and the prizes revealed earlier, aligned themselves upright, their focus turning to the senior now overseeing the forthcoming stage of the mighty test.

Grand Elder Waller's eyes scanned the throng, pausing momentarily on the juniors before he addressed them once more.

'You should all know that the theme for the last trial is battle.'

His manner held neither severity nor softness, but it bore a gravity that bore upon each hearer.

'Hundred Battles Trial. As the name suggests, you will face one hundred consecutive battles. However, how far you advance within those hundred battles will depend entirely on your own strength, endurance, and will.'

A faint pressure rippled through the disciples at those statements. The notion of one hundred back-to-back fights by itself prompted many to draw in a quick breath. Engaging in one fierce clash was one matter. Withstanding scores without break was quite another. A test built on wearing down would probe not just brute force but also vitality, psychological fortitude, and strategic acumen.

Grand Elder Waller gradually directed his gaze afar, to where a massive edifice rose separately from the two domes that had contained the prior tests.

'That tower,' he went on, extending a hand toward it, 'is an relic acquired by our forebears from a competing power long ago. Though ties between our clans have fluctuated from hostility to alliance over time, the relic has stayed in our grasp.'

His tone dipped a fraction, infused with veneration.

'This tower is known as the Combat Legion Tower. There are only three such towers in the entire Divine Realm, and all three are linked via ancient devices that even we do not fully comprehend.'

As his account progressed, the disciples naturally pivoted to observe the edifice resting silently next to the domes.