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

Ethan glanced over his shoulder. Julian and Micah were still somewhere around the three-hundredth step, far from the summit. It would be a while before they caught up. With time to kill, he drifted toward the center of the massive platform.

There, ten glowing orbs floated in a loose circle, each one giving off a soft, eerie light. Ethan wasn't sure what they were for. Curiosity got the better of him—he reached out, brushing one with his fingertips. The outer layer resisted, like pushing into a taut membrane, but his hand slipped through. Around the orbs, the stone floor bore ugly reminders of violence: smears of dried blood… and human teeth. Judging by the scene, there had been a brutal fight here not long ago.

Maybe these spheres had once held treasures for those who could claim them. Trials like this usually rewarded the victors. That was his best guess—though he couldn't be sure.

Beyond the orbs loomed a colossal stone gate, its weathered surface disappearing into the clouds above. The gap between its two massive slabs was narrow, but still wide enough for hundreds to walk through shoulder to shoulder. That had to be the entrance to the second level. Peering into the opening, Ethan saw nothing but pitch-black darkness, as if the void beyond swallowed every trace of light.

He circled the platform, but found nothing else of note. By the time he returned to the stairway, Julian and Micah had split apart. Julian was on the five-hundred-and-fiftieth step, Micah trailing about ten behind. Both sat slumped, catching their breath. It would still be a while before they reached the top.

Ethan picked a clean spot and sat cross-legged. His fight with Eamon had left him with a few internal bruises—not serious, but not nothing either. The Tree of Life's five root-like branches connecting his organs had taken a shake, but the damage was minimal. After a quick internal scan confirmed nothing serious, he shifted his focus to restoring his stamina.

When his energy returned, he began moving—slow, deliberate motions taught to him by Uncle Jed. Under the crushing weight of thirtyfold gravity, the sequence felt heavier than he remembered. Maybe it was rust from disuse, or maybe this place simply amplified every strain. He started in meditation, his hands resting at his sides, his spine straight as a spear.

That single adjustment—just settling into posture—took him an entire hour.

Meanwhile, Julian and Micah had only managed to climb a hundred more steps between them. They were now thirty steps apart, Julian still slightly ahead.

Ethan's own movements, if played back at forty times the speed, would have flowed like a slow, ancient dance. After another hour, his arms lifted outward, a great bird stretching its wings. Another hour later, they reached high above his head, like a titan supporting the sky.

By then, his clothes were soaked through with sweat, white steam curling up from his head in the cold air. His mind drifted into a half-conscious haze. In that deep focus, faint whispers rose in his ears:

"Beyond the organs, the sinews and bones govern; beyond the sinews and bones, the muscles govern; within the muscles, the blood vessels govern; and that which drives the body into vibrant motion—this is governed by energy…"

The words were cryptic and heavy, carved deep into his mind without permission.

He didn't know how long he stayed like that. But at some point, he opened his eyes and realized he had completed the final posture Uncle Jed had shown him.

Julian and Micah were now only three steps from the platform, leaning on each other for support. Ethan rose, joints popping, muscles alive with fresh strength.

"Careful, both of you! The last step… the pressure's at least thirty times normal!" he warned.

Before he could finish, the air above him tore apart.

Boom!

A lightning bolt—twice as thick as the one before—materialized out of nowhere and came straight for his head.

"Holy crap—again? I can't even say it out loud this time?" Ethan swore, moving on instinct. In a blur, he shot ten meters to the side. To his shock, the suffocating gravity hardly hindered him at all.

He barely had time to marvel at it before the lightning twisted in mid-air, homing in on him.

Thwack!

The impact drove straight into his skull.

"Hhhss—! Damn, that hurts!" he hissed, eyes watering. The agony was raw, electric, and unfiltered.

Julian and Micah froze on the step below, eyes wide. Whatever they'd been about to do, they immediately stopped, retreating a step to recover.

A few minutes later, Julian rose again. "… I'm going ahead," he said hoarsely, and stepped onto the platform.

The moment his foot landed, his body hunched under the invisible weight. A strained grunt escaped him, and his face turned purple, veins standing out on his neck. Still, he planted his other foot on the stone.

Ethan darted forward instinctively but stopped halfway. Helping now would only harm him. Julian had to bear the strain himself—endure it, adapt, and push past the limit. That was the whole point of the Stairway to Heaven.

Micah, seeing Julian endure, gritted his teeth and followed. The instant his boot touched the platform—

Pfft!

Blood sprayed from his lips, splattering the stone in crimson. Ethan winced at the sound of bones grinding under pressure.

When he had climbed up earlier, the oppressive force had nearly knocked him backward, but it hadn't injured him this badly. Seeing them now, he realized he might have underestimated how brutal the final step really was. The rewards, if they could survive it, would probably outshine his own gains.

Julian suddenly let out a roar. His hunched frame straightened in defiance.

Buzz!

A low vibration pulsed from his body. Muscles contracted sharply, as if he'd just shed a layer of dead weight, his once-broad frame tightening with newfound density.

Micah tried to follow, forcing himself upright without even a shout. His jaw was clenched so tightly it creaked. The instant he stood, the same transformation began—but then a sickening crack split the air. His lower leg gave out. He crumpled, a jagged shard of bone tearing through skin and fabric.

"Ugh…" he groaned through gritted teeth. Even with an injury that would've made most men scream, he refused to let the pain break him.