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

Julian's eyes lit up with sudden realization.

"Oh… I get it now! Six years ago, Father told me he was sending Swift Lightning Spotted Deer off to breed…"

He paused, scratching his head. "And it was gone for three years… I thought you'd bring back a litter of fawns when you returned! But nothing! So… you were secretly communing with the world's energy to summon that massive downpour?"

"Pfft…"

At Julian's words, nearly everyone within earshot choked.

"Breed…"

Regis had always been the king of ridiculous excuses.

Nearby, the Black Qilin stood frozen, its eyes distant, as if lost in deep thought.

Ethan glanced at it, half-smirking. Judging by the look, if the Qilin was in human form, its face would be darker than the bottom of a scorched pot.

"Alright, let's move," Ethan said. "Try not to make a big scene."

The Black Qilin's eyes narrowed into annoyed slits.

"Don't worry," it growled. "I'm a master of sneak attacks. Julian, go play distraction with the others. I've got prep to do."

With that, the beast launched itself skyward with a boom and vanished into the clouds.

Ethan turned. "Alright then. Let's get to work. Uncle Jed, care to join me for a little mischief down there?"

"Me? Hah. You wouldn't dare," Jed scoffed. "Can you even handle those two old War God-rank geezers lurking down there?"

Ethan just laughed it off, totally unfazed.

He looked over to Julian. "Your job—keep this entire zone masked with an illusion. No one sees this fight, understood?"

Julian gave a quick nod, then mounted with Bongo. Together with the Illusionary Qilin and twenty thousand cavalry, they galloped off.

The moment they were gone, Ormund rose high and revealed itself above the Blackscale Serpent's town.

Ethan made no effort to conceal their presence. He let Ormund hover freely in the open sky.

Whoosh!

An arrow glimmering with a sickly green light and reeking of rot shot up from below.

Ormund tilted slightly, dodging it with ease.

"This is Blackscale Serpent territory! No flying allowed! Get lost!"

A voice like rusted iron scraping over stone rang out from below. The guards on the arrow towers shouted with arrogant, entitled tones.

But Ethan? He wasn't mad. If anything, he looked pleased.

Soft, diplomatic types like the Illusionary Qilin were harder to deal with. These snakes? They were practically volunteering for a fight.

The guard who'd fired the arrow was just a low-level mixed-blood serpent.

Ethan unleashed his Dragon's Might through his Soul Sense—raw power focused directly at the guard's skull.

Pop!

No suspense. The serpent's head exploded like a melon, and the body tumbled off the tower.

Ethan's voice boomed across the city.

"I am Ethan, City Lord of Beastfall. I hear snake stew made from Blackscale Serpents is a delicacy. I've come to try it for myself.

Blackscale Tyrant! You hiding or just rude?"

His Soul Sense carried the words like thunder, shaking buildings and rattling bones.

Lower-ranked serpent-folk clutched their heads as blood dripped from their ears.

The once-quiet city exploded into chaos.

Swish... swish...

Countless serpent-folk flooded the streets, bows drawn, arrows nocked.

Glowing green poison-tipped bolts filled the air, streaking toward Ormund from every direction.

Even at this altitude—hundreds of meters above—the arrows flew with dangerous speed and piercing force.

"Hmph. I'm the ruler of Beastfall City and the entire Southwest Domain," Ethan muttered to himself. "And you worms dare shoot at me? You've signed your own death warrants."

Uncle Jed and Dana stared at him, speechless. He'd come here to provoke a fight—and yet he had the audacity to act like the victim.

"Sigil of the Wild Legion… Suppress!"

He didn't care what anyone thought. A reason to justify his wrath was all he needed.

BOOM.

The sky rippled. A colossal golden sigil formed from thin air, like a mountain miles wide. With an echoing roar, it plummeted toward the city.

Finally, fear broke through the serpent-folk's arrogance.

"The Sigil of the Wild Legion—it's really him!"

"Run!"

"I don't want to die!"

Ethan hovered, brow furrowed. His Soul Sense scanned the city. Every inhabitant below… mixed-blood serpent-folk. Over a hundred thousand of them.

Even though he'd prepared for this, wiping out so many in one strike left a sour taste.

He'd grown up on Earth, where despite the savagery, some moral lines still lingered.

But then he reminded himself: the Blackscale Serpents were infamous oppressors.

For years, they preyed on human tribes wandering through the Sea of Death. Entire communities wiped out. They slaughtered without mercy.

That thought steadied him.

Uncle Jed watched Ethan closely. When Ethan's expression finally eased, Jed let out a slow breath, smiling faintly.

Had Ethan continued to hesitate, Jed was ready to intervene. A fighter's path depended on their inner clarity.

If Ethan had doubts, if guilt festered… he'd face mind demons in the future. And those demons could destroy even a War God-ranl powerhouse.

Of course, Jed had no idea Ethan's strength came from a completely different source—the Ethereal system.

Experience points were all he needed. Mind demons? He'd never heard of 'em.

Thud...

Just as the Sigil was about to land, it shuddered violently—then stopped mid-air.

Ethan's eyes snapped wide. He reached out with his Soul Sense and saw it—

A massive humanoid figure holding the sigil up with both arms, muscles bulging, like Atlas bearing the weight of the sky.

"Roarrr!"

With a snarl, the man stepped upward, climbing the air itself as he pushed back against the sigil's crushing force.

"A War God..." Ethan murmured.

That was the mark—only War God-ranked beings could walk through the air without wings or magic.

Well… aside from Wind Priests and a few other freaks.

Thump. Thump.

Each of the man's steps reverberated through the atmosphere.

Ethan narrowed his eyes, then waved a hand.

The sigil glimmered and shimmered, folding in on itself. It glowed with earthen-yellow light and retreated back into Ethan's Mindscape.

And then—whoosh! whoosh! whoosh!

Three more figures surged into the sky.

Ethan's face darkened.

What the hell?!

Julian had told him a while back that the Blackscale tribe had two War God-rank elders. Now there were four.

"Julian, your intel is garbage..." Ethan muttered.

The leader—a thin old man with crane-white hair and a wrinkled face—stepped forward.

"I am Blackscale Tyrant," he announced, voice sharp. "When did Beastfall City get a new lord?"

Ethan stared him down, smile full of scorn.

"Do I need to file a form with you snakes?"

Tyrant's tongue flicked out in fury, but another elder quickly stepped in and gave him a warning glance.

Snorting, Tyrant backed off.

"I am Blackscale Earth-Eater," said the elder smoothly, bowing slightly. "My brother's temper gets the better of him. The Blackscale Serpent tribe is honored by your presence, City Lord. Would you care to descend and talk?"

His tone was respectful, face full of feigned sincerity.

If Ethan didn't know better, he might've believed the old snake.

"Blackscale Earth-Eater, huh?" Ethan looked unimpressed.

"That's right," the elder said, bowing deeper.

"Never heard of you."

Earth-Eater froze. From his lowered posture, his eyes gleamed venomously, but he quickly masked it.

"But it doesn't matter. Whether you're Earth-Eater or Dirt-Eater, it's all the same."

Ethan leaned forward, voice mocking. "You're all just crawling creatures to me.

This City Lord is very busy. I'm not coming down for a chat. Just send up a hundred thousand proper Blackscale Serpents. Don't try to fool me with those disgusting hybrids—I want the real deal. I've got a banquet to host."

A tense silence followed.

Then, suddenly—

"Hahahaha!"

One of the men—tall, broad, and wearing a grin—burst out laughing.

"You're something else, kid. I like you. I, Old Tortoise, truly admire that nerve."

Ethan blinked. "Old… Tortoise?"

This guy didn't seem like a Blackscale tribesman.

"You are…?"

"I'm from the Thundercloud Mystic Tortoise clan," the man said with a casual wave. "Name's Vogemoth. And this here is Gilded Blaze, chieftain of the Gilded Flame Crocodile clan."

Ethan's expression darkened.

The Blackscale Serpents were dangerous, sure.

But now the Thundercloud Mystic Tortoises and Gilded Flame Crocodiles were involved too?

These weren't minor tribes. They were apex predators in the beast-folk world.

And for some reason… they were standing with the Blackscale Serpents.