Level 1 to Infinity: My Bloodline Is the Ultimate Cheat!

Ethan, satisfied with how thoroughly he'd stirred the group's fighting spirit, retracted his Soul Sense and expanded his awareness outward, sweeping a full twenty-five-kilometer radius. Nothing felt off—no movement, no presence that posed a threat.

"Uncle Jed, Dana, get up here. We're heading out," Ethan called, his voice sharp and commanding. "Julian, you stay with the Central Dominion Guard. Keep pushing forward. We'll go ahead as the vanguard. Once you arrive, just clean up the battlefield."

As Ethan finished speaking and prepared for Ormund to take off, Julian unexpectedly sprang up beside him.

"Bongo, lead the way!" he said.

Bongo stepped up without hesitation, turning her Cliffstrider and raising a hand. "Formation—charge!"

No theatrics. No unnecessary words. At her command, twenty thousand soldiers from the Central Dominion Guard instantly fell into formation, splitting into five tight columns. Their Cliffstriders thundered forward in perfect unison, bearing down on Ormund without hesitation. If the beast didn't move, they'd collide straight into him.

Ormund huffed and crouched low, then sprang into the air with a swish of his powerful limbs.

"Damn it..." Even the stoic Ormund couldn't help letting out a low groan as he soared above the onrushing formation. Below, Bongo led her troops past him like a raging tide. She even raised a fist at the airborne group, full of fire and challenge.

Ethan chuckled. His last remark about cleaning up the battlefield had clearly lit a fire in their hearts. And Bongo... he'd truly underestimated her. She commanded the Dominion Guard with unexpected authority.

In truth, Ethan hadn't known that for the past three years, Julian had left most of Beastfall City's management to Bongo. As captain of the Central Dominion Guard—and wife of their commander—she had long since earned the soldiers' respect. When she spoke, it was as good as Julian giving the order himself. If it had been anyone else, this proud unit would've resisted cooperation altogether. That included their previous coldness toward Ethan.

"Let's go too!" Ethan grinned. "Ormund, you better show some spirit."

"Don't worry, Ethan. Not only can I fly now, even back then those Cliffstriders couldn't outrun me."

Ormund beat his wings, carrying Ethan and the others into the sky in a burst of speed, chasing the twenty-thousand-strong force streaking across the desert below.

In less than an hour, Ethan leaned forward and patted Ormund's ear. The beast slowed, then came to a hover in the open sky.

"We're here," Ethan said, eyes narrowed at the barren sands below.

"Here?" Julian asked, glancing down with a frown.

A vast stretch of undulating dunes lay beneath them, quiet and lifeless.

Ethan called out in a clear voice: "Ethan, City Lord of Beastfall City, greets the Patriarch of the Violet Lightning Cloud Beast Tribe. I request an audience!"

His tone was respectful—more than respectful, in fact. The Violet Lightning Cloud Beasts were known to be a peaceful race. Ethan had never heard of them doing anything cruel or savage. If they had been, he'd have gone in swinging without a second thought.

But after his greeting, only the desert wind replied. Not a single sound came from the sand.

"Hmph..." Ethan exhaled, narrowing his eyes. He'd come offering courtesy first. But apparently, they planned to ignore him.

"Did we come to the wrong place?" Dana asked, frowning.

Ethan didn't answer. With the system map's pinpoint accuracy, there was no way they were in the wrong place. Besides, this patch of desert—unlike the rest—was oddly untouched by wind or heat. To others, it looked like just another dune-covered stretch of land, but Ethan's heightened senses painted a different picture.

What lay below wasn't a sandy wasteland at all.

It was a massive hill, obscured beneath an intricate illusion. The terrain was solid, layered with mist, and riddled with countless cave mouths—each one home to a slumbering Violet Lightning Cloud Beast.

When Ethan had announced his name earlier, the beasts had merely stirred, blinked groggily... and gone back to sleep.

Did they really think their illusions could fool him?

Ethan focused his Soul Sense and honed in on a particular cave, nestled near the top. Inside was a massive, aged beast—its once-vibrant violet fur now faded to a silvery white. Of all the creatures, it was the only one that hadn't returned to sleep after hearing his voice.

"So you're the one..." Ethan muttered, narrowing his gaze.

He surged his Soul Sense forward, projecting a forceful, oppressive pressure that locked tightly onto the ancient beast. It shuddered, and after a brief moment, slowly rose to its feet.

"Roar...!"

The beast's cry echoed throughout the hill, shaking the air itself. Instantly, other Violet Lightning Cloud Beasts stirred in their caves, poking their heads out and staring warily at the white tiger in the sky.

Of course, only Ethan could see all this happening through the illusion.

"Well, old-timer," Ethan said coldly, "are you coming out, or do I have to fight my way in?"

There was a tense silence.

Then a deep, ancient voice resonated across the desert: "You say you're the City Lord of Beastfall City?"

Finally, some progress.

Ethan flicked his wrist. A golden sigil burst into existence mid-air, expanding rapidly until it glowed like a miniature sun—the Sigil of the Wild Legion, radiating crushing power.

"I am the new City Lord—Ethan. I seek to borrow twenty thousand of your Violet Lightning Cloud Beasts as mounts for my Central Dominion Guard. I ask that you make this convenient."

Julian, Dana, even Ormund—everyone around Ethan silently raised their eyebrows.

Twenty thousand?! The number alone was staggering.

The Violet Lightning Cloud Beasts probably numbered only a little over fifty thousand in total, yet Ethan had come asking for nearly half of them—without offering a single bribe or negotiation, just a polite command.

And calling them 'mounts' to their faces?

Even Ethan's "borrowing" didn't sound like borrowing. It sounded like demanding.

A cold snort echoed in response. "Hmph... New City Lord? You're even more arrogant than your predecessor! A hundred years ago, that brat Regis came here, begging me for a thousand of my kin. He groveled, promised gifts, benefits... and I still turned him down."

The voice sharpened. "And now you show up—young, brash, and without manners—asking for twenty thousand like they're yours to take? Do you take us for fools? Or cowards?"

Ethan remained unfazed, but Julian turned to him in surprise. "Wait, my father came here a century ago?"

"Apparently," Ethan said, curious. "Is that true?"

Julian frowned, then slowly nodded. "A hundred years ago, Father had just become City Lord. Back then, the Central Dominion Guard only had a thousand men. He must have wanted to build an aerial force."

So the old man had tried the same thing Ethan was now attempting. Great minds think alike, it seemed.

The voice below spoke again. "That young man... is he dead? Why wasn't the position passed to his son? Instead, they hand the title to you, stranger? If you had come, boy, I might've considered our past relationship and sent one or two of my kin to aid you. For a few years, at least."

Ethan let out a dry chuckle. "Trying to sow division, are we? You're smarter than you look, old beast. But maybe too clever for your own good."

He raised the glowing sigil higher. "Aren't you afraid I'll just level this whole hill with the power of the Wild Legion?"

The beast chuckled darkly. "Hot-headed little human. That sigil might cow other tribes, but it won't work on me. Regis tried it too. You're welcome to give it a go."

The voice grew colder. "And when it fails, perhaps you'll return to your city and leave us be. We want no war. No conquest. We simply want to live our lives in peace."

There was no hostility in the voice—only an unwavering calm. That unnerved Ethan more than if they'd chosen to roar and bare fangs.

This tribe really was different.

They didn't thirst for blood or domination. They weren't cowards, but they were done with wars. They simply wanted to exist.

Ethan exhaled slowly, biting back his next threat. These beasts bore a striking resemblance to pictures of Qilins from myths back on Earth—majestic, noble, untouched by malice. They lacked the scales and horns of a Qilin, but their violet fur shimmered with the same regal aura.

He didn't want to break them. He didn't want to force them.

But the Central Dominion Guard needed flying mounts—and not just any mounts. The illusions these beasts could create were critical to Ethan's next plan. He scanned the system map mentally, looking for other candidates—any other flying race strong enough, fast enough, and large enough.

There were none.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling—if he forced this peaceful tribe into his army, how was he any different from the monsters he wanted to destroy?

He wasn't a saint. But he wasn't a tyrant either. And just as Ethan stood at the crossroads of force and diplomacy...

A new voice echoed in his mind.