Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100-Chapter 365: Worship as a God
Max stood amid the ruined field, where the corpses of dozens of demons lay motionless, limbs twisted, weapons shattered, bodies pierced clean through by the glowing remnants of his sword barrage.
He didn't blink.
Didn't flinch.
There was no pity in his gaze.
They used humans like cattle. That alone had sealed their fate.
With a quiet exhale, Max turned around—intending to speak to Barry—but froze mid-step.
His breath caught in his throat at what he saw.
All of them.
The villagers—every man, woman, elder, and child—had fallen to their knees. Foreheads pressed against the dirt. Hands clasped together. Prostrating themselves before him like devout followers worshipping a god.
'What the hell…?'
Max's brow furrowed, eyes darting across the sea of bowed figures. For a moment, he was too stunned to speak.
Then he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
'Right…' he thought. 'They've never seen power like this before.'
Of course they hadn't. These people had lived their entire lives at the bottom of a system designed to keep them weak. To them, someone who could kill a demon—much less thirty of them at once—wasn't just powerful.
He was divine.
"I killed the demons who came today," Max said clearly, his voice rising above the murmurs of awe. "But this place—this camp—is known to them. Others will come."
He swept his gaze across them, firm but not unkind. "You need to leave this area. Move to somewhere safer."
There was a moment of silence.
Then Marcus raised his head slightly, his eyes wide and shimmering.
"No," he said, voice trembling. "We… we aren't going anywhere. You—"
He bowed again, pressing his forehead against the dirt.
"—you are a god. You have the strength of a god. We will follow you… wherever you lead us."
A ripple of agreement echoed through the camp. Whispers of "God…" and "Protector…" and "Heaven-sent…" passed from tent to tent like wildfire.
Max's jaw clenched slightly.
'And now I've got a whole village ready to worship me. Great.'
He shook his head. "I'm not a god," he muttered under his breath, then turned back toward his tent.
"Pack your things!" he called out, louder this time. "We're moving. I'll lead you somewhere safer—somewhere with other human settlements. If they exist on this continent, we'll find them."
Behind him, the villagers bowed one last time before scrambling to follow his orders, gathering their belongings and dismantling the tents with newfound purpose.
---
Inside the tent, the flap rustled closed behind Max as he stepped inside, Barry right on his heels.
Max dropped down onto the cot, the worn frame creaking under him. He glanced at the boy with a faint grin.
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"So…" he asked, casually leaning back against the wall. "How was it?"
Barry's face lit up like a sunbeam. "It was awesome!" he said, practically vibrating. "You didn't even lift your hand—and they were just… gone!"
Max chuckled, shaking his head. "It wasn't that flashy."
"Yes it was," Barry grinned. "They looked so scary at first—and then you crushed them like they were bugs."
Max smiled faintly.
But then his tone shifted—softer, but serious.
"You can get strong too," he said. "Strong enough to protect the people you care about. But first, I need to know something."
Barry tilted his head. "What?"
Max leaned forward slightly. "What class did you awaken with?"
The boy blinked. "Class…?"
"Oh—wait." Max blinked and gave a quiet laugh at himself, rubbing his temple. "I forgot…"
He shook his head. "You have to be at least fifteen to awaken a class in the Awakening Dungeon."
Barry looked confused, but Max waved it off with a smile. "Never mind that. You'll get there eventually. For now…"
His expression turned thoughtful.
"Do you have a sword?"
Barry shook his head immediately. "No. The demons never allowed us to carry weapons. Not even sticks too long, they'd take those away too."
Max's expression darkened at that, his jaw tightening. Of course they wouldn't allow it…
He thought for a moment, then said, "Alright. A stick will do for now. Go find one and bring it back. Something straight, sturdy—about as long as your arm."
Barry nodded eagerly and dashed out of the tent.
The moment the boy left, the flap rustled again—and in stepped Marcus, the village leader, along with Barry's father, both of them carrying a large wooden box between them.
"We'll be ready to move in an hour," Marcus said respectfully, setting the box down before lowering himself to one knee.
Barry's father followed, his gaze lowered in reverence.
Marcus gestured to the box. "Inside… is something we used to worship. We believed it was divine. Sacred. But it never responded. Never did anything for us. So…" he hesitated, then continued. "Please accept it now—as a token of our faith in you."
Max sighed quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Too simple-minded, he thought. They've spent so long under the heel of the demons, they don't know how else to live except through worship or fear.
Still… he didn't push them away.
"Alright," Max said gently. "You can go. I won't accept your worship, but I will accept your trust. And I'll make sure to lead you to a place where you won't need to fear demons ever again."
Both men bowed their heads, their expressions filled with gratitude, then quietly left the tent.
Max sat in silence for a moment, eyeing the box with mild curiosity.
What did they worship before me? he wondered.
He reached forward and placed his hand on the lid. It felt cold to the touch—unnaturally cold. Slowly, cautiously, he lifted it just a few inches—
And immediately—
BOOM.
A heavy, oppressive pressure poured out like an invisible wave, flooding the tent.
Max's body tensed. His breath caught in his chest.
Even with the lid only slightly ajar, the sheer weight of the aura was enough to make the air tremble. It was primordial, ancient… something wild and untamable.
He felt it in his bones.
'Worship me,' it seemed to whisper. 'Bow before me.'
And for a fleeting second—
He almost did.
Only a flicker of his willpower kept him grounded.
"This...!" Max was stunned as he immediately released his own pressure from his dragon bloodline eventually suppressing the pressure from whatever was inside the box.