Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 - Chapter 660: Choosing Max

Chapter 660: Choosing Max

“You want a friendly battle between the recruits of Thunder Monarch Hall and the Great Ruler Empire, then you can have it.” Lyra’s voice rang out clear and proud as she smiled, her gaze unwavering as she faced Travis and the elders behind him.

“Choose the rules for the battles.” Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried authority that silenced the buzzing whispers across the grand arena.

Travis’ eyes narrowed for a split second, clearly not expecting Lyra to agree so easily. For a moment, he suspected a trap. But then he reminded himself of their goal—it didn’t matter how or when she accepted. She had agreed, and that was all that mattered.

“Good,” Travis said, his tone slick with confidence as he crossed his arms. “Then the format is simple. We will each send five members from our new recruits. The battles will be one-on-one. The side with the most victories—wins. No tricks. No excuses.”

“Seems like a straightforward rule. Good.” Lyra nodded calmly before slowly turning her head and looking down from the air at the platform where the seed participants were standing. Her next words shocked the entire arena.

“For the first battle,” Lyra announced, “I will choose the weakest genius from my end. Max Morgan, you are up.”

The moment those words fell, a thunderous wave of murmurs and gasps rolled through the grandstands.

Max, hearing his name, simply smiled. He didn’t hesitate. With a single leap, he soared through the air and landed on the battle stage, his coat fluttering behind him as if responding to the weight of everyone’s eyes.

But the crowd didn’t cheer—they stood in stunned silence.

Among the seed participants, Nile Rotan and Ben Wier looked at each other in disbelief, their mouths agape.

“Princess Lyra, what are you doing?!” Elder Kian’s voice suddenly entered her mind through sound transmission, full of urgency and disbelief. His brows were furrowed, his hands clenched tightly. “This is reckless! That boy’s strength is only at the 8th level of Expert Rank. We only have five battles. If we lose one now, we’ll already be at a disadvantage. Why are you handing over the first victory to them?”

He simply couldn’t understand what Princess Lyra was thinking. Of all the geniuses, why Max? Among the five seed participants, Max was by far the weakest—not just in strength wise but in public recognition, experience, and even reputation.

His strength was only at the 8th level of Expert Rank, and no matter how talented he might be, that level of strength was far from enough to stand against the monstrous recruits from Thunder Monarch Hall.

This wasn’t some casual spar or a friendly exchange—they were standing at a critical juncture. There would only be five battles. Just five. And if they lost even three of them, the Great Ruler Empire would suffer an embarrassing defeat in front of thousands of spectators and in the face of one of their biggest rivals.

A loss here wouldn’t just be about pride. It would be a blow to their already crumbling prestige, further damaging their title as the number one first-class force of the Middle Domain.

By sending Max first, it was as if they were throwing in the towel before the real battle even began.

Elder Kian clenched his fists, his jaw tight as he looked toward Lyra. She must have had her reasons… but right now, all he could see was an unnecessary risk that could turn their already fragile position into outright humiliation.

“Are you seriously doing this? Consider your choice once more, Princess Lyra.” Elder Loyd’s voice rang with a rare hint of urgency as he hovered beside her in the air, his aged face marked with concern.

He was the senior-most elder among those overseeing the recruitment, and even he, who had always supported Lyra’s decisions without question, was now asking her to pause.

Just beside him, Elder Shawn arrived—his bald head glinting under the sunlight—crossed his arms, his brows furrowed deeply. “Sending Max first makes no sense. He might be strong for his rank, yes, but he’s still the weakest among the seed participants. This is a gamble we cannot afford.”

On the other side, Elder Shelly, robed in silver with elegant phoenix patterns embroidered on her sleeves, stepped forward slightly, her tone composed but laced with worry. “Lyra, think again. Even if Max has potential, the opponent would be at peak Master Rank. He won’t stand a chance. This first battle sets the tone. If we lose it too easily, morale will suffer—for our participants and our name.”

Th𝘪ʂ 𝕔hαpτ𝕖r 𝙞𝖘 p𝑜𝖘𝓉ɛḍ bყ 𝓀ɩ𝐭є𝐧𝐨ⱽɛ𝕝

The last to speak was Elder Gwen, the quietest of the five, but even she couldn’t hold back. Her long braided hair swayed slightly in the wind as she looked directly at Lyra. “We must win at least three battles. We only have five chances. This isn’t just a friendly match—it’s a statement to the entire Middle Domain. Please, reconsider.”

Each of them voiced their concern not out of doubt in Lyra’s leadership, but because the weight of this battle bore more than just victory or defeat—it was the Great Ruler Empire’s reputation, already questioned in recent years, now hanging by a thread.

To risk it all on Max, a boy few knew and most underestimated, seemed reckless at best… and disastrous at worst.

Lyra stood still in the sky, hearing each of the elders’ voices echo in her mind—calm ones, frantic ones, angry ones—all urging her to rethink, to reconsider, to not throw their first battle to a participant so easily dismissed.

But she ignored them all. Her calm gaze never faltered, not even as Elder Loyd’s voice turned more urgent or as Elder Gwen’s rare plea lingered in her mind.

Instead, she looked toward Travis with a serene smile and said, “Send your genius.”

For a fleeting moment, Travis was caught off guard. He narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, observing Lyra with scrutiny. Among the younger generation of the seven top first-class forces, she was one of the few geniuses he knew the best.

They had clashed more than once in public and in secret, as rivals often did. She was not someone who acted recklessly or without purpose. That much he was certain of. Which is why her choice puzzled him.

Why send someone like Max, who hadn’t even stepped into the Master Rank, for a match like this—one that could set the tone for the entire friendly battle?

Still, a mocking smirk curled on his lips. Whether Lyra was bluffing or truly deluded, this was a golden chance handed to him on a silver platter.

“Really? A recruit who hasn’t even reached the Master Rank? I hadn’t thought the Great Ruler Empire had fallen so low,” Travis said with exaggerated pity, though every word dripped with venom and mockery, causing the crowd to stir in confusion and whispers.

Just then, a voice echoed up from the arena below.

“Are you only going to just flap your mouth, or are you actually going to send someone?” Max’s sneer was calm but sharp, like a blade sliding from its sheath.

The crowd gasped.

Travis’s eyes slowly moved down to the figure on the stage. That mocking smile of his sharpened into disdain. “Looks like someone is getting impatient,” he replied before turning to his recruits. “Kyle, go. Beat the shit out of that kid.”

Kyle, a tall young man with spiked orange-red hair and the air of someone confident in his superiority, smirked as he leapt off the back of the thunder beast roc.

He landed with a thud across from Max, his boots cracking the arena tiles slightly. He looked at Max with a smirk and bowed mockingly. “As you say, Senior Brother Travis. I’ll end this quickly.”