Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100-Chapter 372: Making an Escape

That changed everything.

The demon's expression darkened.

This wasn't an empty threat. The elves—aloof as they were—rarely made declarations like this. And never publicly. For them to speak out, here, now, on human soil… and for a human?

It meant something far deeper.

And that unsettled him.

But he wasn't the only one.

The humans, especially Mars and the warriors behind him, were stunned into silence. Their shock was painted on every face.

They were natives of this continent. They knew the elves well.

Elves weren't bloodthirsty like the demons, no. But they were calculating. Cold. They kept to themselves. Made no promises unless it benefited their race. Even during alliances, they gave only what was necessary—and never more.

To hear one speak of a human—a human not even from their own territory—with such value… it wasn't just surprising.

It was alarming.

Mars narrowed his eyes, jaw tight.

Why would the elves—of all people—protect him?

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His mind raced with possibilities, each one darker than the last.

Did they know something he didn't?

Had they seen something he hadn't?

Behind him, the arrogant youth from earlier grit his teeth, his fists clenched at his sides. "Why him?" he muttered under his breath, glaring at Max with barely restrained hostility.

Max stood still, eyes flicking between the elves and the demons, reading every shift in energy.

He hadn't expected this.

Not from the elves. Not from anyone.

And that only made things more complicated.

Because if they were declaring him "protected," it wasn't out of goodwill.

It meant they wanted something.

And in a world like this, being wanted was just another form of being owned.

'I have to make a way to escape from here,' he thought.

Max stood still, sword resting lazily at his side, his gaze calm but vigilant.

He was watching. Waiting.

For someone—anyone—to make the first move.

Since a conflict between three three races was imminent, it was only expected that one of the races would take action.

But nothing happened.

The demons, once brimming with rage, now scanned the skies with caution. The elves, ever composed, stood unmoving, their attention divided between the horizon and Max. And the humans—Mars and his group—hovered in silence, clearly calculating something behind their eyes.

It was a standoff.

No one wanted to be the first to act.

'They're waiting,' Max realized, eyes narrowing.

Not for a better opportunity.

For reinforcements.

He understood these warriors from all three races didn't just happen to be in this region. It seemed too far-fetched for that. Instead, they might be patrolling this area, and then the situation with Max came.

And when three races were involved—demons, elves, and humans—the situation would undoubtedly escalate to a point where only Expert Rank would be sent to intervene.

And if that happened… Max's freedom would be nothing more than a fading thought.

He needed to move. Now.

His eyes scanned the tense battlefield, taking in the strained faces and subtle body language of all three factions. A small, cold smile curved his lips.

They all wanted something from him.

But none of them had the guts to move first.

Perfect.

Max floated slightly into the air, his posture relaxed, tone casual. "So," he began, speaking just loud enough for all to hear, "I came here with my friends for the Tower of Truth… and somewhere along the way, I got lost."

He shrugged lightly.

"You all know the rest."

A beat of silence.

"Anyway, if no one minds, I'd like to be on my way now."

The moment he began to ascend, voices rose around him.

"Kid!" The Peak Seeker Rank demon snarled, stepping forward. "If you think you can escape from here, you're dreaming. You'll die before you make it ten feet."

From the other side, Mars raised a hand, his voice smooth. "Young man, you must be from the Valora Continent. We can escort you safely to the Tower of Truth. It's too dangerous to travel alone."

Following the humans was a no for Max because of Lucas and so he didn't need to think about them.

Then the elf leader spoke. Her tone was soft but serious. "Don't listen to any of them," she said, stepping closer. "The demons want your blood. The humans want your talent. We only want to show you something. After that, you'll understand why we stepped in."

Max looked at her… and then at Mars… and finally at the demon sneering in the distance.

He gave a slow, mocking nod. "Yeah, yeah... and yeah. But..."

He smirked.

"No."

Before anyone could move, his right hand flared with a pulse of black fire.

A small, swirling orb danced in his palm—silent, contained, burning with unnatural energy. And without another word, he tossed it toward the ground.

BOOM!

The orb detonated with a muffled thunderclap—but it didn't harm anyone. Instead, it exploded in a massive wave of blinding black flames, swallowing the landscape in shadow.

A full mile of vision was instantly consumed in black smoke and flickering infernal light.

"What the hell is this?!" someone shouted.

"I can't see—!"

The demon at the peak of Seeker Rank roared. "How dare you play tricks with us?!" His fist slammed into the air, sending a pulse of shockwave that blew away the black flames, scattering the cover like smoke under a gale.

But it was too late.

Max was gone.

Vanished.

The wind howled. Dust settled.

And in the sky, there was nothing.

Only silence.

The demons were livid.

The humans were stunned.

And the elves simply watched… silently.

"I sensed him," the Peak Seeker Rank demon growled, his crimson eyes narrowing as they pierced through the fading black mist. "He's not far. Follow me."

Without waiting for a response, he shot into the sky, a blur of dark motion, cutting through the air like a blade.

The remaining demons didn't question him.

They followed in grim silence, vanishing one by one as their forms streaked toward the horizon. Bloodlust simmered in their wake.

They had been humiliated—and demons never forgot humiliation.

At the same moment, on the opposite end of the ruined clearing, the humans exchanged looks. Mars's expression was unreadable, but the fire in his eyes betrayed his thoughts.

"He can't go far," one of the human warriors muttered, already preparing to launch into the sky.

"Stay sharp," Mars said coldly. "Move."

And just like that, the human force took flight, trailing the demons, but not too closely.

They weren't chasing Max.

Not yet.

They were observing—calculating.

Waiting for their moment.

The clearing fell into stillness once more, the charred earth whispering in the breeze, scorched black from Max's diversion.

Only the elves remained.

The wind tugged at their cloaks, carrying with it the faint scent of sulfur and smoke.

The leader of the elven scout group, a tall woman with silver hair and eyes like cut glass, turned to one of her companions.

"Did you inform the Princess?" she asked, her tone calm but precise.

The elven girl beside her gave a silent nod.

"Good," the leader said after a beat, casting one last glance toward the sky where Max had disappeared. "Then our part here is done."

She turned, her silver cloak swaying gently behind her as she lifted into the air.

"Back to our patrol," she said quietly.

One by one, the elves followed—silent as shadows, graceful as wind through the trees.

No words. No sound.

Only purpose.

Because while the others chased Max with claws and greed…

The elves had already set their plan in motion.