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

Just as Ethan was struggling to make a decision, a strange voice echoed in his mind. At first, it startled him—it wasn't his own thought, nor anyone nearby. Then the voice spoke clearly:

"I have a way to make them willingly follow you."

"What way? Tell me!" Ethan demanded without hesitation. He recognized the voice—it was the Dragon Child, the one who had taken the form of a dragon egg and merged into his Mindscape. Ever since that moment, his Soul Sense had evolved, granting him the Blue Dragon's Intimidation skill. Afterward, she had fallen silent, slipping into a deep slumber.

"Do you remember when I asked you to do something for me?" she asked, her tone calm yet layered with intent.

Ethan nodded. "Is this about the Violet Lightning Cloud Beasts?"

"Not directly," she replied, "but it's the perfect chance to make use of something that would otherwise go to waste…"

While Ethan communicated with her internally, he stood silently atop Ormund's head, unmoving. Behind him, Julian, Uncle Jed, and Dana watched his back warily, unsure what he was planning.

Then a booming, ethereal voice echoed from below. "Yoing one, hurry up and leave. It's very impolite for you to stay on our heads! You—"

"I never thought," Ethan cut in, a faint smile tugging at his lips, "that the once fearsome Illusionary Qilin of ancient times would fall to such a state. What? Still hoping to use the remnant soul of that little broken dragon underground to patch up your bloodline? That's just pathetic."

Boom!

The ancient Violet Lightning Cloud Beast instantly surged upright. A tremendous pressure burst forth—far stronger than even Uncle Jed's—causing the surrounding cavern to tremble and crack under the force. Yet just as quickly, the beast withdrew its aura, restoring itself to peak Sovereign-level calm.

"Young one," the voice said again, now low and edged with coldness, "I don't know what you're talking about. Leave our territory. Now."

Ethan smirked inwardly. Finally angry, huh? That burst of power had been overwhelming. If he had acted recklessly earlier—charged in with bravado—he might've been reduced to ash. Even Uncle Jed wouldn't have stood a chance.

"Well then," Ethan said casually, "forget it. That thing under Beastfall City... I'll just refine it myself. Let's go."

Ormund paused in midair, then turned, wings folding briefly before twisting back toward their original path.

Whoosh!

A massive purple figure, far larger than Ormund, suddenly materialized and blocked their path.

"Wait…"

"Uncle Jed, get him!"

The instant the figure spoke, Ethan snapped out the command. Uncle Jed didn't hesitate. He stepped off thin air, appearing in front of the creature's face, and delivered a devastating punch.

Pop!

The giant figure shattered like glass. It was only an illusion. Uncle Jed hovered mid-air, fist still extended, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"If you want to talk," Ethan said flatly, staring down, "then come in your real form. What's the point of hiding behind illusions?"

There was silence. Then the ancient voice responded again, cautious now.

"First, tell me—how do you plan to refine that thing? For millions of years, it's remained sealed under Beastfall City. Even weakened, it's not something a mere human can deal with. Why should I believe you?"

There was a crack in his tone—doubt and hope all mixed together.

Ethan didn't reply immediately. He could sense the gears turning in the old creature's mind. It was weighing risk versus reward.

If Ethan could truly refine the sealed entity—and if the Qilin tribe could gain a share of the result—they could finally abandon their facade. No longer living under the borrowed name of the Violet Lightning Cloud Beasts, they could rise again.

The Illusionary Qilin had once been among the most revered of the beast clans. A million years ago, they chose the wrong side in a great war. Defeated and disgraced, they were sealed into a spatial rift. Even worse, their bloodline had been extracted and tampered with by divine laws. They had suffered there for eons, generations born and dying in a place with no light.

Only ten thousand years ago had the rift finally cracked. As patriarch, he led tens of thousands of tribesmen through the breach and discovered this remote hill. Beneath it, they found the corpse of a young dragon—its soul fragment still lingering. Desperate to restore their fractured bloodline, the Qilin had stayed, drawing on that remnant soul.

Ten thousand years of hiding. Ten thousand years of pretending.

And now this human boy threatened to upend it all.

Ethan saw the hesitation fade. He raised his hand, and with a soft pulse of green light, summoned the dragon egg.

"I can't deal with that thing," he said. "But she can."

Whoosh.

A streak of purple light flashed before him. The true form of the old Qilin emerged. Smaller than expected—barely three metres tall—but unmistakably real.

"Blue... You actually have a master?" it said in disbelief, eyes darting between Ethan and the glowing egg.

Clearly, the Dragon Child had begun speaking to it. Ethan watched silently as the Qilin's expression shifted. First disbelief. Then understanding. Then something like reverence.

Whatever was said, it ended with the old Qilin making its decision. It gave Ethan one long, searching look… then turned and descended, vanishing underground.

"I'll stay here," came the Dragon Child's voice in Ethan's ear. "There's still life essence in that dragon corpse. I need time to absorb it. Once I'm done, I'll help you deal with the other thing."

The Qilin's form flickered, returning to its illusion.

Moments later, the ground trembled. From the distance came the sound of hooves and armored footsteps—Bongo and the Central Dominion Guard had arrived. They stopped below, eyes wide as the desert landscape shimmered, fading into mist.

When the haze cleared, a massive hill stood in view, honeycombed with caves. From within, countless figures emerged, rising into the sky in a silent procession.

At the head was the old Qilin, its fur now streaked with white.

"I entrust these twenty thousand children to you," it said solemnly, voice echoing with a deep, ancient pride. "Treat them well."

Ethan blinked. "What about the contract? If you're not bound, what's stopping you from turning on us?"

"We don't trust humans," the old Qilin said bluntly. "But we trust her."

Ethan opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again. 'Damn it... I don't trust you either.'

The Dragon Child spoke again, her voice like a whisper behind his thoughts. "He's right. Humans are… disappointing. But you're not so bad. Don't worry—the Illusionary Qilin keep their word. They've made their decision. They won't betray you. But you... you should show them some sincerity. They don't know you yet."

Ethan sighed. 'Is our reputation really that bad?'

Still, when he met the old Qilin's eyes, clear and steady, he made his choice. He raised his hand and summoned a glowing parchment from thin air.

A Divine Contract.

Buzz...

The sacred energy it emitted was unmistakable. The old Qilin's eyes narrowed slightly. Like Ormund, it recognized what this was.

"I, Ethan," he began, "as long as I live on the Umbral Star, will aid and never betray the Illusionary Qilin tribe."

A bead of blood surfaced from his brow and floated into the contract.

Buzz...

Half the scroll's ancient patterns turned a vivid red.

The Qilin watched silently. During its exchange with the Dragon Child, only mutual benefit had been discussed. But now...

A Divine Contract wasn't something trivial.

And the Qilin understood its weight far more than most.