Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 Chapter 1479 A Condition

"I accept your bet," Joe declared, following a pause lengthy enough to indicate sincere consideration. He had examined the offer from all possible perspectives and reached the identical verdict every instance: Max, regardless of the attributes that had so convincingly swayed the Black Dragon Clan's family heads, wouldn't surpass the eightieth floor with his cultivation lingering at the third level of the Rebirth Realm.

His assurance in this judgment remained unshaken since Mathew initially suggested the figure, and he saw no reason to feign differently. "However, I have a condition too," he continued, his tone holding the deliberate gravity of a person who had predetermined his desire prior to speaking.

Mathew maintained an approachable look and loose stance. "What condition?" he inquired, his grin holding firm without any fade. No matter what Joe intended to request, he was ready to listen, as his calm stemmed not from courtesy but from absolute conviction.

He possessed that profound, steady certainty, not the fidgety kind born of worry, that defeat in this wager was impossible. Max would conquer the eightieth floor, thus any stipulation Joe linked to his agreement amounted to something unenforceable in the end.

Joe regarded him directly. "Should I prevail in this bet, I desire Max to enter the Violet Star Palace." He paused briefly before proceeding, with his justification trailing right after the requirement. "I believe that solely our faction, amid the myriad third-rate powers in the Divine Realm, possesses the means and framework to nurture him correctly and mold him into the genius the Sword Sovereign's sword evidently means for him to be. If you consent to this stipulation, I'll take your bet. If not, drop the whole thing."

Mathew's smile persisted, yet a subtle alteration occurred beneath it. He had entered this discussion anticipating terms, but not this particular one. His gaze tightened marginally as the implications of Joe's demand weighed upon him, and deep under his serene facade, a forceful notion surged through.

'This greedy bastard.' He mused, swearing silently inside.

Max wasn't merely the top talented disciple the Black Dragon Clan had produced lately. Right now, he stood as the most celebrated young prodigy across the whole Divine Realm, a cultivator whose reputation had extended well past the confines of his nurturing clan, whose hold on the Sword Sovereign's sword had positioned him as a target of vigilant, eager scrutiny from powers throughout the realm.

The Black Dragon Clan had lucked out by discovering him, by identifying his potential before the broader world fully grasped it, and now Joe sought to transfer that luck straight to the Violet Star Palace.

Mathew pivoted to share looks with the fellow family heads, and during the short quiet that ensued, a consensus took form without verbal exchange. They knew each other sufficiently for such understanding.

"Alright," Mathew stated, facing Joe once more. "This is a deal."

Yet the term alright conveyed not so much yielding but the subdued assurance of someone accepting clauses he was wholly sure he'd evade. Since Mathew first floated the bet, across all subsequent interactions, none of the family heads had harbored even fleeting uncertainty about Max clearing the eightieth floor.

The proviso Joe had just tied to his wager portion was, by their shared view, merely theoretical.

They weren't wagering against Max. They were staking upon him, using as investment a penalty they planned never to fulfill, for they had never seriously considered the chance they'd face it.

---

Above the assembled throng, the hovering screens showed Max far past the twentieth floor. The twenty-first level welcomed him with a group of dark silhouettes, their cultivations solidly at the second level of the Rebirth Realm, their presences far more unified and actions much keener than prior levels had offered.

Rather than charging recklessly, they advanced with a restraint hinting the tower now infused its creations with tactical insight, fanning out in the room and striving to block his potential counters from any side.

Max spared the setup a brief glance, assessed its layout, then advanced instead of letting them dictate the approach, his blade lifting and descending in three precise slashes that shattered the setup before it exerted true force.

The twenty-second level shrank the area notably, confining him to a tighter space where the dark forms could stream at him from one path, removing his freedom to maneuver and compelling him to handle the onslaught of foes coming in rapid sequence instead of dispersed in wide terrain.

"Time to test one of the inheritance techniques," Max murmured to himself, his words holding the subdued, methodical quality of a tester initiating a trial rather than a warrior steeling for battle.

The choice was set, and the action came without fanfare. He tapped into the fifth level of his ice concept, allowing it to emerge from the core of his cultivation and spread through his frame, and instantly upon contacting the room's air, the chill plummeted with abrupt, utter finality, as if the combat tower's stage had shifted to a distant, frozen void.

The shift wasn't slow. It hit swift and complete, and the closest dark figures flinched in a reaction they shouldn't have, their shapes wavering along the borders as the frost assaulted their essence.

Then the ground shifted.