Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 - Chapter 659: Thunder Monarch Hall

Chapter 659: Thunder Monarch Hall

There were seven top first-class forces in the entire Middle Domain, standing just beneath the Four God Nations in status and strength. These seven forces weren’t ordinary guild or loose alliances of power—they were ancient, sprawling dominions of might and influence that had survived countless upheavals.

They each commanded terrifying authority, and through geniuses, alliances, trade, or outright suppression, they ruled over the thousands of major and minor regions scattered across the Middle Domain.

Together, these seven top forces controlled nearly half of all thousand major regions, and their names alone could shake any great power.

One of them was the Thunder Monarch Hall, a force known not only for its unmatched mastery over lightning-based powers but also for the ferocity and pride of its members.

And now, that monstrous beast—the Thunder Beast Roc—had descended before them. A beast of this level wasn’t something just anyone could tame. It was the symbol of the Thunder Monarch Hall.

Everyone who saw the beast understood instantly. It wasn’t just a single person arriving—it was the presence of one of the seven overlords of the Middle Domain making itself known.

The very air seemed to thrum with electricity as whispers spread through the crowd like wildfire. Even the elders of the Great Ruler Empire narrowed their eyes.

The appearance of the Thunder Beast Roc made one thing clear—someone from the Thunder Monarch Hall had come. And they hadn’t come quietly. Not in peace.

“Kason, has your Thunder Monarch Hall grown so arrogant that you now dare to interfere in the recruitment assessment of our Great Ruler Empire?” Elder Loyd’s voice thundered across the arena as his figure soared into the sky with a surge of majestic energy.

Th𝙞𝓈 𝐜h𝗮p𝓉ꬲr 𝑖𝓈 pɵ𝙨𝘵℮𝒅 b𝕪 𝒦𝚤†єṉ𝑜ⱽ𝖾𝗹

He was the senior-most among the five elders accompanying Princess Lyra and was known for his strictness and unwavering pride in the empire. His hair was streaked with silver, but his eyes still burned with sharpness and fire. His sudden appearance in the sky caused a hush to fall over the entire crowd.

All eyes turned skyward where the majestic Thunder Beast Roc loomed, its wings crackling with arcs of lightning as it hovered. Atop the beast were several figures—three elders radiating powerful auras and a group of young geniuses standing tall and proud.

Among them, one figure stood out. He had wild, spiky black hair and a face frozen in a mocking sneer. His arms were crossed arrogantly, and his presence alone seemed heavier than the rest of the geniuses combined.

That youth was Travis Wonker, one of the most infamous 3-star geniuses of the Thunder Monarch Hall, known across the Middle Domain for his ruthless methods and unmatched battle prowess among his peers.

It was Travis who had first spoken, mocking the Great Ruler Empire and spitting on its prestige the moment they arrived.

And now, Elder Kason, one of the high-ranking elders of Thunder Monarch Hall, answered Elder Loyd with a cold smirk tugging at his lips. “We’ve simply come to observe,” Kason said with a sneer of his own, “to see the level of so-called geniuses being recruited this year by the Great Ruler Empire. Didn’t think you’d be recruiting trash again.”

The words struck like a whip through the arena, drawing gasps and stunned silence.

But Elder Loyd’s reply came without hesitation. His voice was biting, his aura flaring like a burning sun. “They’re better than whatever pieces of trash your force recruits,” he shot back, refusing to back down.

He had seen the ten youths atop the roc—they were indeed exceptional, their aura and presence spoke volumes of their potential.

Just then, Travis curled his lips into a sneer as his eyes fell upon Princess Lyra, his voice thick with disdain. “Lyra, had I known you were recruiting trashes again, I wouldn’t have wasted my time coming here to witness such shame.”

He shook his head slowly, his expression one of exaggerated pity, as though he truly regretted descending upon the Grand Arena. “I had merely hoped to see how our newly recruited geniuses this year matched up against yours—perhaps a friendly bout or two for the sake of comparison—but alas…” His words hung in the air like poison, inciting murmurs and glances from the spectators below.

But Lyra was already moving. Her figure rose gracefully into the sky, her long silver-blue robes fluttering gently as she came to stand beside Elder Loyd, her presence as calm and icy as ever.

Her gaze met Travis’ with a cold glint. “Sorry to disappoint you,” she said in a voice laced with unshakable pride. “But our geniuses are strong enough that they don’t need to prove anything to the likes of you. You’ve had your fun. Now you can scram.”

That should have been the end of it—but Travis’ smile only widened, the mockery in his tone sharper now, almost taunting. “Oh? Are the so-called geniuses recruited by the Great Ruler Empire this year so weak,” he emphasized, voice raised slightly as he turned to the crowd, “that you’re afraid of even a friendly battle?”

He chuckled, shaking his head again. “What a shame. What happened to the glorious empire that once stood above the rest of us in pride? Has fear finally found its way into your bones?” His words dripped like acid, stoking the tension in the air. The crowd was silent, held in the grip of anticipation. Some clenched their fists in anger, others watched in uneasy awe.

This was no longer just a recruitment assessment—this was a clash between giants.

It was clear to everyone with eyes and a brain that the so-called “friendly battle” was nothing more than a veiled attempt by the Thunder Monarch Hall to humiliate the Great Ruler Empire in front of the entire Middle Domain.

Their intentions weren’t hidden—they were carved boldly into every sneer, every mocking word, and every arrogant gesture. And the timing wasn’t coincidental either.

For the last twenty years, the Great Ruler Empire’s prestige had been quietly crumbling under the weight of its failure to produce results on the grandest of stages. Not a single one of their representatives had made it into the top ten of the Divine Mandate Grand Tournament in two full decades.

In a world where strength dictated status, this repeated failure had emboldened countless second-rate forces to start questioning their dominance, whispering whether the so-called number one force was losing its edge.

And with those doubts growing louder, how could the other six top-tier forces—their supposed equals, and in truth, their long-time rivals—resist the chance to dig in their heels and twist the knife deeper?

Thunder Monarch Hall simply decided to act first. Under the disguise of a ’friendly match,’ they were here to trample the name of the Great Ruler Empire and declare to the world that the old king had lost its crown.

Lyra’s expression remained composed, but her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. She also understood the game being played. This wasn’t about some casual test of strength.

It was a performance—a spectacle meant to stain the Great Ruler Empire’s dignity right when their reputation was already hanging by a thread.

That was why she had no intention of allowing this “friendly battle” to proceed. Not because she doubted her side’s strength, but because she knew the enemy came prepared to humiliate, not compete.

Just as she was weighing her options, pondering whether to dismiss them outright or try and end the standoff with diplomacy, a calm voice entered her mind—Max. “Princess Lyra, how about this…” The voice was steady, quiet, but carried an undercurrent of certainty that made her pause.

She turned her head slightly, pretending to simply glance at the field, but her attention sharpened. Max had been silent all this while, his presence unassuming among the other seed participants. Yet now, with tension in the air and mockery boiling at the edge of open conflict, he spoke.

And in that brief moment, Lyra’s thoughts shifted. She listened carefully as Max’s words flowed through the transmission—measured, composed, and yet bold.

He wasn’t offering submission. He wasn’t suggesting retreat. He was proposing something else entirely. Something that made her lips curl ever so faintly.