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

Inside the command tent, Ethan surveyed the crates strewn across the ground, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. The two old-timers hadn't held anything back—every last supply box was accounted for. He ordered his men to move the crates outside for sorting, then leaned in to whisper something to one of the battalion leaders. With a wave, he invited Vogemoth and Gilded Blaze to sit, before turning his full attention to the roasted beast sizzling at the center of the tent.

It was no ordinary meal. This was a rare delicacy from Earth, a breed of lamb none of the others had ever seen. The whole creature was roasted to a perfect golden-brown, its charred skin glistening under the tent's soft lighting. Ethan, sleeves rolled up, was carefully brushing a glaze of honey across the crisp surface, his motions practiced and precise.

Julian, Priestess Dana, and Bongo sat nearby, quietly watching Ethan at work. The aroma that filled the tent was intoxicating—thick with cumin, sesame, and the unmistakable richness of slow-roasted meat. Vogemoth and Gilded Blaze, both seasoned warriors of immense stature, were stunned speechless. It was unheard of for a City Lord, especially one like Ethan, to personally prepare food for guests.

"Just a little longer," Ethan said cheerfully, flashing them a grin. "Almost there!"

That smile—warm, welcoming—was jarring when contrasted with the man who, not long ago, had issued the command that wiped out the Blackscale Serpent tribe in a single, decisive strike. Their underground city alone had housed over a hundred thousand pure-bloods. On the surface, another two to three hundred thousand hybrids. And now… all of it was gone, reduced to a smoldering crater.

And yet here Ethan was, humming as he seasoned the meat.

With a final flourish, he sprinkled on chili powder, gave the spit a few last turns, then began carving the lamb, slicing it into even cuts and handing pieces out on wooden platters. The moment the meat touched their tongues, everyone's eyes lit up. Even the usually stoic Vogemoth nearly groaned aloud with pleasure. Gilded Blaze looked like he was about to cry.

"Elders Vogemoth, Gilded Blaze," Ethan said, grinning. "How is it?"

"Delicious," they said in unison, barely managing to swallow first. "Absolutely divine…"

Ethan chuckled. He knew most beast tribes ate their meat raw—or worse, swallowed it whole. Even humans in Beastfall City had crude habits when it came to food. Grilled, maybe. Salt, if they remembered. Seasoning? Unheard of. "If you like it, come visit Beastfall more often."

The words froze them mid-chew.

Beast tribes—especially those of Sovereign rank and above—were strictly forbidden from approaching the vicinity of Beastfall City. Even powerhouses like Vogemoth and Gilded Blaze wouldn't dare get close.

The reason? The Wild Legion's Sigil.

When within Beastfall's borders, the Sigil's power surged dramatically. A Sovereign-rank warrior could wield the force of an early War God-rank just by being in proximity. It was a massive deterrent, enough to keep the most prideful beast clans at bay.

And now Ethan was casually inviting them in?

Was this permission? Or a provocation?

Before they could ask, a soldier's voice rang out from outside.

"Report!"

"Enter," Ethan replied without turning.

A squad entered, carrying several boxes. The battalion leader, catching Ethan's subtle nod, motioned for the men to place the boxes at Vogemoth and Gilded Blaze's feet.

"Elders," the leader announced, "these are the freshwater resources we promised. Please verify them. There are eighty-seven more outside."

The two beasts, mid-bite, froze. Then they quickly set their food down and stood. They'd already counted the supplies once, underground—ninety-two boxes in total, each containing a colossal eight thousand tons of pure freshwater. Back then, they'd been tempted. They'd been offered a thousand tons to betray Ethan. And for a moment… they'd considered it.

But Vogemoth had resisted. He'd convinced Gilded Blaze to walk away from that deal.

Now, not a single box was missing. Ethan had made good on every word.

The implications were massive. With this freshwater, their tribes would no longer need to trade beast cores just to survive. They could grow stronger, refine more cores, and train without constraint. In the Sea of Death, water wasn't just survival—it was power.

Julian and the others looked on, speechless.

Finally, Vogemoth stepped forward, voice solemn.

"I, Vogemoth, Chief of the Thundercloud Mystic Tortoise tribe…"

"And I, Gilded Blaze, Chief of the Gilded Flame Crocodile tribe…"

"…hereby pledge our friendship to Ethan, City Lord of Beastfall. Should you ever call for aid, our tribes will respond with our full might."

[Ding! System Notification: Quest "Shifting Allegiance" progress +10%.]

Ethan's eyes lit up at the familiar sound in his head. So that's how it worked—winning loyalty counted more than raw extermination!

"Haha, you're both too formal. Just call me Ethan," he said, waving a hand and pulling out a barrel of cheap, grape-infused liquor.

"Come! Let's drink!"

---

Fifteen days later.

Rumors exploded across the Southwest region of the Sea of Death.

Fifteen days ago: The Blackscale Serpent tribe, a Royal Bloodline clan, was utterly annihilated—including two War God-rank ancestors.

Twelve days ago: The Gale Wolf, Cloudsea Thornfang, and Skywing Bloodbird tribes, all of King Bloodline, wiped out—each with a War God-rank ancestor.

Eight days ago: The Howling Fire Dragon Beast tribe, Royal Bloodline, obliterated. Both early and mid War God-rank leaders… dead.

Three days ago: The Primordial Blazing Silkworm tribe and the Redfang Lynx tribe, a combined force of three early and one mid War God-rank ancestors… none survived.

The beast races were in an uproar. Royal and King bloodlines were being erased from the map. Who was behind it?

Fear took root. Each tribe began fortifying, expecting the storm to reach them next.

Julian barged into the war tent, face grim. "Message from the Gilded Flame Crocodiles. The beast tribes are furious. Forty-three early, twelve mid, and three late War God-rank warriors are assembling to siege us."

Ethan stood at the edge of the map table, eyes fixed on the enormous city looming ahead. His face betrayed no emotion. He'd expected this. In fact, the beast tribes had responded far slower than anticipated.

He had assumed they'd mobilize within ten days. Instead, it had taken fifteen.

"Tonight," Ethan said calmly, "we make one final strike, then retreat."

He looked to the sky, eyes darkening.

"It's time… to avenge Inugoro."

Silence fell. Even Ormund trembled. The name was like a curse.

No one knew the full story, but they could feel it. Inugoro's death had changed Ethan. Originally, he had planned to march on the Golden Falcon tribe directly. But after examining Julian's map and learning of the Four Domains Sacred Assembly, he shifted course.

Hurricane City had begun absorbing beast tribes. So Ethan decided to cut off their limbs—wipe out every single tribe they'd recruited. If the Assembly wanted the beasts present, he would make sure none remained.

This was his opening move. The first step in unifying the Sea of Death.

But not every tribe was destroyed. Some, especially those with good reputations or reluctant participation, were offered contracts—some of servitude, others friendship. The "Shifting Allegiance" quest had now reached 89%. Only 11% remained.

Curiously, friendly treaties granted no system progress. Annihilation gave 1–2%. But servitude contracts? Slightly more.

Ethan's gaze shifted to the great city ahead. This battle… would be the hardest yet.

"Brothers," he called out. "This is our last fight. Do you have confidence?"

"YES!" The roar shook the mountains.

They had begun this campaign twenty thousand strong. Every man among them was wounded… yet not one had died. Not while their City Lord stood with them. With a wave of his hand, he could restore their strength, reignite their will, breathe life into the dying.

Some whispered he must have come from Clearspring City, famed for its water and wood element priests.

Julian turned to him, serious. "Boss… what's the plan this time?"

The word boss caught Ethan's attention. He gave a small smile.

"This one won't be easy. According to Vogemoth and Gilded Blaze, Golden Falcon City has a defensive array."

He turned to Uncle Jed, still wrapped in bandages.

"Half a month, and you're still not healed?"

Uncle Jed managed a weak laugh. "Try recovering after almost triggering a heavenly tribulation. I had to seal my Energy Core just to survive!"

Most of their high-level kills over the last few weeks had been thanks to one creature—Black Qilin. Each time it attacked, Ethan had to deploy twenty thousand Illusionary Qilins to mask it. The thing could fly so high that once, Ethan had almost touched the edge of the sky.

No other Qilin could soar like that.

Their strategy was simple: Black Qilin unleashed its devastating attack, then the Central Dominion Guard swept in. After weeks of fighting together, the synergy between the two forces was terrifying. Their combined strike had once bisected a War God-rank beast in a single blow.

But that had been against tribes with no barriers.

Now… Golden Falcon City was fortified.

"Blackie," Ethan asked, "how long to flatten this place?"

The Qilin shook its tail. "My skills are area-based. I don't have single-point attacks."

Ethan frowned. "And if there's no barrier?"

"Ten hours."

Too long. Far too long. The falcons were born scouts, with aerial patrols and incredible eyesight. Black Qilin could be spotted long before it finished charging.

There was no clean way in.

"Everyone," Ethan said finally, "to the highest point. Activate the Illusionary Array—full power."

He climbed onto the Qilin's back.

"Blackie… I'll break the barrier. You bomb them into dust."

The Qilin snorted. "You? Break the array? Can you even do that?"

"Let's find out," Ethan said with a grin.

Truth be told, he wasn't sure either. But it had been three years. His Forbidden Skills had fully recovered. For the past fifteen days, he'd merely given orders from the rear.

Now? It was time to move.

It was time… to make war.h