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

Among the gathered spectators, Julian slowly covered his face with his hand. His mind wandered back to his tenth birthday—when a black-clad youth had suddenly descended from the sky, stepping through the air like a god. At that age, Julian hadn't known enough to gauge the man's power, but even then, his presence was staggering.

That youth hadn't just descended from the sky—he'd quite literally walked through it, the wind parting around him like a curtain. And when he landed and laid eyes on Julian, he'd immediately tried to take him as a disciple. Julian had been thrilled. What child wouldn't want to learn how to fly?

Of course, he said yes.

But just as the deal was struck, Regis—Julian's father appeared. The youth panicked, turned into a streak of grey lightning, and bolted across the horizon. Later, when Julian told his father about the amazing master he'd gained, Regis had just stared at him in speechless disbelief, then strictly forbade him from taking that man as a teacher.

At the time, Julian didn't understand. Now, though… now it all made sense.

That master had disappeared without a trace for twenty years. And it turned out, he'd been right beside Julian all along—masquerading as the Swift Lightning Spotted Deer he'd been riding. Except… it wasn't a deer. It was the Black Qilin.

Apparently, Regis had warned the creature not to cause trouble, which probably explained why it had stayed hidden all these years.

Now, though, the chaos had fully broken loose.

---

The chase raged on.

Explosions rocked the earth as the forces of wind, fire, water, and earth collided in the sky. There were no flashy spells—just raw elemental energy tearing through the battlefield. Within seconds, the terrain beneath the sigil of the Wild Legion had turned into a scorched, apocalyptic wasteland.

Everyone could see it: the Black Qilin was out of options.

Its power flared spectacularly—but lacked precision, finesse… or actual danger.

The so-called destructive energy surged toward Ethan, but a silvery shimmer pulsed across his body. A thin layer of metallic light spread over his skin, reflecting his figure like a set of silver scales. It was his Bear Form's Iron Hide—a defense technique that made him look like a living suit of armor.

He kept walking forward.

Step by step, Ethan approached the rampaging Black Qilin.

"That's it? Still trying to run?"

Thump, thump.

Two solid strikes landed across the Qilin's flank.

"I'll teach you some manners."

Thump, thump.

"And some humility…"

Thump, thump.

"I'll teach you…"

At this point, Ethan wasn't even pretending to need a reason. He just kept hitting the Qilin while making up excuses on the spot.

"RAAAH! I'll fight you to the death!"

The Black Qilin shouted furiously and stomped the earth with all four hooves before launching itself at Ethan. It clearly intended to throw down.

Seeing the shift, Ethan smirked. It had finally stopped running. About time.

In the next moment, his muscles began to pulse with a rhythmic, internal vibration. He activated his Force Resonance technique.

As the Black Qilin barreled toward him, Ethan lunged forward as well.

"Heavy Strike… Heavy Strike… Heavy Strike!"

Three consecutive skill charges surged into the staff in his hand. A soft cracking sound echoed from the weapon—it was gold-tier, but even it couldn't handle that much raw power.

It didn't matter.

Ethan charged.

The two collided—one massive, the other deceptively small. The three-fathom-tall Qilin raised its front hoof and brought it crashing down like a meteor.

Ethan tilted sideways and spun fluidly around it.

"Too slow."

In the blink of an eye, he was behind it—then suddenly riding it, crouched low on its back.

"Now then… where do you think you're going?"

He lifted his staff, still charged with energy, and brought it down hard on the Qilin's rear.

THUMP.

The staff landed. The Qilin's entire body stiffened.

"OWWW!"

It let out a strangled cry.

THUMP.

"OWW!"

Thump… THUMP.

---

Minutes passed.

The mighty Black Qilin was thoroughly dazed from the relentless beating. Its body twitched involuntarily before it finally collapsed and transformed back into its human form. A black-clad youth now lay face-first in the sand, and Ethan was casually sitting on his back like it was a chair.

"Stop hitting me!!"

The fearsome beast cried like a scolded child.

Ethan raised an eyebrow. Then, without hesitation, he stood, grabbed the youth by the armpits, and yanked his pants halfway down.

"Ah! What are you doing?!"

The youth's face filled with panic.

Ethan gave a wicked grin. "Heh… what do you think?"

He raised a palm, once again channeling Heavy Strike.

SLAP.

The blow landed squarely on the exposed backside.

"AHHH!"

"Give up yet?"

"Don't hit my butt! I surrender!"

"Really? How do I know you're not lying?"

SLAP.

"I swear! I really give up!"

Ethan just smiled—devilishly.

---

Half an hour later…

Ethan finally grew bored and tossed the youth onto the ground like a discarded toy. For thirty full minutes, he'd asked the same question over and over:

"Did you really give up?"

Each time, the Qilin had answered, and each time Ethan responded with a spanking—just in case.

Now the black-clad youth lay face-down in the sand, moaning faintly.

"Don't play dead," Ethan muttered, giving him a kick. "Get up. We're moving out."

Then he turned and walked back to where Julian and the others had set up camp.

They'd already built a basic shelter and were in the middle of eating when Ethan returned. But instead of greeting him, they all just… stared.

Their eyes tracked him in eerie silence.

Ethan frowned. "What? Pack it up. We're moving again."

---

Two days later…

They finally stopped.

For two full days, Ethan had pushed the team forward—nonstop, day and night. Whether traveling or resting, twenty thousand Illusionary Qilin kept them cloaked in constant illusions. What should've been a half-day trip took them forty-eight hours, but they'd arrived at last.

Julian looked ahead uneasily.

"Ethan, that's the Blackscale Serpent Tribe's territory… Are we really doing this?"

By now, most of the team had a good guess about what Ethan was planning.

Standing atop Ormund's head, Ethan smirked.

"The Sacred Assembly… the Serpent Tribe has someone competing, right? If we kill him—and wipe out the whole tribe while we're at it—that's one less competitor."

Uncle Jed let out a chuckle. "Hah… this kid's got guts."

Julian, however, looked troubled. "Wipe them out? Isn't that… a bit much? The Blackscale Serpent Tribe isn't just anyone. What if we just take out their guy and move on?"

He wasn't wrong to be cautious.

The Blackscale Serpents were one of the royal beast clans of the Sea of Death. Their bloodline purity was extremely high, and their bodies were covered in nearly impenetrable black scales. Adult warriors in the tribe typically reached Peak Sovereign-tier in strength.

But their true danger wasn't in their strength—it was their poison.

Their bloodline ability gave them the most lethal venom in the entire Sea of Death. Even a trace—by touch, breath, or blood—could melt through flesh. The more pure the bloodline, the stronger the venom.

And this generation had produced a prodigy: a Peak Exalted-tier warrior with unmatched toxic arts. He'd even taken third place in the Beastfall Trials.

So Julian's concern was valid.

"They're just overgrown snakes," the Black Qilin muttered from under Julian. "I could wipe them all out in one hit."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. Did its butt not hurt anymore?

The Qilin shivered. "…I mean, in theory. I could level their whole camp with a single World-Ending Thunder."

That got Ethan's attention.

"Are you serious? No bluffing?"

The Qilin puffed up. "I don't bluff!"

Then immediately deflated.

"…But, uh… it takes time."

"How much time?"

"Depends on how big you want the blast," the Qilin replied, oddly sincere.

Ethan pointed down at the Blackscale camp. From above, it looked more like a fortified city than a campsite—fifteen kilometers across, massive walls, and clearly well-established.

"Can you cover that whole area? I don't care about intensity—just wipe them out."

The Qilin peered down, doing mental math. "I'll need at least half an hour."

"Half an hour? That's too damn slow. Are you doing a funeral march or something?" Ethan cursed under his breath.

The Qilin shrank down again. "Hmph. It took me three years to create that rainstorm three years ago—and Regis said it was impressive! Now I'm just 'too slow'? Unbelievable…"

The Qilin had spoken without thinking. But the moment he mentioned that storm…

Everyone froze.

That rainstorm? The one that covered thousands of kilometers three years ago?

That… was him?!

Stunned silence fell over the group.