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

The sudden turn of events left Ethan, a modern young man from Earth, momentarily stunned.

"Ma… Ma… Master?" Julian stammered, his voice trembling.

"Good disciple!" the youth shouted with a booming laughter. "Come with your Master! Let's conquer the lands, make the world kneel before us! Hahahaha!"

As the words left his mouth, the man shimmered with a dark light. In an instant, he swept Julian off his feet—literally—whisking him away in a blur. The next second, his true form emerged: a towering Black Qilin, with Julian now riding on his back like a knight on a mythical steed.

"Let's move out, boys!" the Black Qilin roared, his voice rolling like thunder.

The other beasts reacted quickly. The purple-hued Illusionary Qilin carrying the Central Dominion Guard soared after him, its body trailing a ribbon of light. But there was no denying it—compared to the Illusionary Qilin, this Black one exuded a dominant, primal energy.

Black Qilin weren't a separate race. They were rare mutations—born once in a generation, if at all—within the Qilin clans. And once one appeared in a tribe, another wouldn't emerge for centuries. The creature that had been pretending to be a Swift Lightning Spotted Deer was none other than the Illusionary Qilin tribe's black-sheep genius. Literally.

He was the younger brother of the elder patriarch and, back in the day, had stirred quite a bit of chaos. A century ago, around the time Regis first arrived, the Black Qilin had started itching to explore the world beyond. When the elder patriarch disagreed, he didn't hesitate—he "sneaked out," though everyone in the tribe had known exactly what he was doing. His escape had been so clumsy it became a running joke. In truth, the patriarch had just let him go, knowing there was no containing a restless spirit like his.

And there was another reason.

Black Qilin could only grow through battle. Keeping him cooped up would've been a waste of his potential. So, while the younger one thought he'd pulled off a brilliant escape, the whole tribe had simply looked the other way.

Now, he returned, issuing commands with pride, and the Illusionary Qilin obeyed without hesitation.

"Hey, you there— Purple, shift left, yeah, right there. Perfect."

"And you… Purple on the end—move to the right a bit."

"You, behind them—fly a little higher. Good, good…"

Ethan watched in disbelief as the Black Qilin directed them like a band conductor. Every one of the Qilin, regardless of individuality, was being called "Purple."

He slapped his forehead. This guy… he had seemed almost sane before transforming.

Why does he remind me of Leo? Ethan thought. And seriously… does he not know their names?

"Hey! Ethan!" the Black Qilin called out with a smirk. "We're heading off first. You guys can catch up and clean the battlefield behind us!"

With that, he burst into motion again, streaking across the sky like a comet, Julian holding on tight. The Illusionary Qilin followed swiftly behind.

Ethan's face turned a shade darker.

"Wait—does he even know where we're going?" he muttered, already turning to chase after them.

The elder patriarch let out a low chuckle. "Little Black's just afraid of getting his butt kicked. If you beat him down once, he'll behave."

Ethan winced. "He's ridiculously strong. What if I can't beat him?"

The patriarch's smile widened. "Wind, Fire, Water, Earth… sounds terrifying, doesn't it?"

Ethan nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"But if he can't cast them? He's nothing."

The elder Qilin raised one paw and shink!—claws snapped out like blades. "See? Hooves, not claws. He's not made for close combat."

Then, with a sly grin, he vanished in a streak of purple light, disappearing into the illusions below.

Ethan was left dumbfounded. What kind of explanation was that?

"Ethan," Ormund called, "should we go after them? At this rate, we'll lose sight of them!"

He wasn't wrong. The Black Qilin had returned their earlier mocking line word-for-word: you guys can eat our dust. And now… they truly were.

Ethan gritted his teeth. "Yeah. Let's go."

"Hang on tight!" Ormund warned.

Uncle Jed and Bongo quickly crouched down, grabbing fistfuls of Ormund's thick fur. Ethan, still lost in thought, reacted half a second too late. He tumbled back—only for Uncle Jed to catch him before he hit the ground.

BOOM!

A sonic boom erupted as Ormund took off like a rocket.

They flew for nearly two minutes before the distant purple dot began to grow. Then, as Ormund's boost ended, his speed slowed and the distance began to stretch again.

Ethan seethed silently. This was humiliating.

Half an hour passed.

"Ethan… they've stopped," Ormund said.

Ethan gave a noncommittal grunt through his nose. Uncle Jed, however, was grinning ear to ear.

'This is gonna be good.'

Sure enough, they closed in. The Black Qilin turned, eyes meeting Ethan's.

"Hey, kid," he shouted, "do you know where we're going?"

Ethan's eye twitched.

"You… don't know?" he snapped.

Julian, sensing trouble, leapt off the Qilin's back and landed on Ormund. He opened his mouth, but Ethan raised a hand to stop him.

"If I knew where we were going," the Black Qilin said smugly, "would I have stopped and waited for you?"

Without another word, Ethan raised his hand.

Buzz…

A golden sigil burst into the air—Sigil of the Wild Legion: Anti-Flight.

The light spread across a ten-kilometer radius like a dome. Immediately, everyone felt themselves dragged downward by an unseen force. The Illusionary Qilin bucked and flailed, but no use—they were falling.

The Black Qilin hit the ground with a loud thud. Ormund, who had been flying low, landed smoothly. Everyone was fine. Well… everyone except Bongo. She tumbled like a sack of potatoes, but Julian caught her midair just in time.

The Black Qilin groaned. "Kid… what's your problem?"

Ethan didn't reply.

He simply pulled a golden staff from his backpack—and wham!

The strike hit the Black Qilin square on the head. Even bracing for it, he couldn't dodge fast enough.

"You wanna know what I want?" Ethan said coldly. "I want to teach you some damn discipline."

The beast staggered, visibly shaken. His eyes glowed—and then sparks began to fly.

Crackle… hiss… whoosh…

Lightning danced around his body. Winds howled. Fire and water spiraled around his form in a chaotic aura. He was pissed.

The Black Qilin dug his hooves into the sand, glaring at Ethan with murder in his eyes.

"Who are you baring your fangs at?" Ethan said calmly.

"Battle Embodiment—Panther Form… Bear Form!"

"Heavy Strike!"

His body surged forward, panther-fast. Then, with a bear's raw strength, he brought the staff down in a crushing blow.

WHACK!

The strike landed on the Qilin's neck, sending him reeling backward.

Ethan winced. 'Damn, this guy's hide is thick. That was a full-power hit.'

"ROARRRR!"

Everyone braced for the Black Qilin to charge back with fury.

Instead… it turned tail and bolted.

It bounced twice—trying to take off. No luck. The sigil was still active.

"Oh no you don't," Ethan muttered. He moved a finger, and the golden sigil above shifted with the fleeing Qilin, keeping him grounded.

He chased behind him, striking again and again. The Black Qilin kicked back like a furious mule, trying to land a blow, but Ethan dodged deftly.

He finally understood what the elder patriarch meant. This guy had no close-range skills. Every time he tried to cast something big, Ethan would cut him off with a strike.

He was basically a glass cannon mage… with no instant-cast spells.

In Ethereal, players like this were a joke. Real PvP fighters had fast, combo-based abilities. This guy? He was like one of those noob mages who only knew how to grind low-level monsters.

"Kid!" the Black Qilin screamed. "If you've got guts, drop the sigil and fight me fair!"

"You can fly, I can't," Ethan replied coolly. "Drop the sigil? What do you think this is, a charity match?"

He struck again. "Now, say it—do you admit you were wrong?"

The Black Qilin kept running. Ethan kept chasing. Behind them, everyone—humans and Qilin alike—watched in awe.

The two weren't even in the same league in terms of power. The Black Qilin was just a step from Elysium rank.

And yet… he couldn't even fight back.

It was like watching a lion being swatted around by a housecat with attitude.