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

Chapter 457: Illusion of Desire



The white crane twisted through the mist like a serpent of cloud, diving straight for Ethan again. Its aim was unmistakable—his brow. That meant only one thing: a direct Soul attack. In this world of awakened powers, the brow acted as the gateway to one's spiritual consciousness. Vulnerable. Exposed. A precise hit could spell disaster.

"Hmph…" Ethan exhaled softly.

Then he did something no sane person would've dared.

He dropped his guard.

He opened his brow deliberately, parting the defenses of his spiritual gate. A pale white vortex bloomed there, swirling open like a third eye. If anyone had witnessed it, their jaw would've hit the floor.

And through that opening, the crane plunged straight in.

Just moments ago, the childish voice inside the Twilight War Spear had practically screamed in his mind:

"Master, let it in! Luna's hungry…"

Ethan had been dumbfounded. This weird spear was getting bolder—and smarter. It even named itself Luna now. But remembering how ravenous it had been for anything with Soul Sense before, he decided to take the risk and trust it.

The moment the crane—formed entirely from that dense white mist—entered Ethan's Mindscape, the Twilight War Spear was already there, lying in wait.

Whoosh—!

The spear pierced clean through the crane's spiritual form.

Ethan blinked in confusion. When he'd tried attacking it earlier, his hand had passed through its wing without causing the slightest damage. Had Luna's strike failed too?

Then he noticed it.

At the tip of the Twilight War Spear, something small and glimmering was impaled—a shard of deep violet stone. Just as he registered it, the crane shattered into fragments, dissolving into the air like dust blown away by wind.

A heartbeat later, the entire white mist that had made up the crane began to fall like rain inside Ethan's Mindscape—countless threads of pure Soul Energy descending gently, like a spring drizzle.

He stood there, stunned.

"Such pure Soul Energy" he whispered.

Each drop was saturated with dense spiritual energy—cleaner, more refined than anything he had himself. It felt like it had been through lifetimes of tempering. And there was something else too… something deeper. A strange, latent force woven into it. He couldn't quite explain it, but he knew—this would elevate his soul power to another level.

His eyes drifted to the Twilight War Spear again. That purple crystal shard was still lodged on its tip, though it had already shrunk—from fingernail-sized to barely a soybean.

"Luna, can I see it?" Ethan asked, coaxing the spear like one would a spoiled child.

"Hmm… okay! But Master can only look!" came the voice again, petulant and smug. "You're not allowed to steal Luna's snacks!"

He chuckled despite himself. With a simple thought, the tiny violet crystal appeared in his hand.

[Ding… System Notification: Obtained item [Damaged Wraith Shard] x1.]

Ethan frowned. Most of it must've been devoured by the spear already. That's probably why the system labeled it as damaged.

He pulled up its description from the Ethereal System:

[Damaged Wraith Shard]

Grade: None

Note: Formed from the lingering resentments of the dead. Prolonged possession may result in corruption by wraith energy.

That made his brows furrow.

"Luna, you absorbed all that wraith energy… are you going to be okay?"

"Wraith energy?" Luna sounded genuinely confused. "What's that?"

"The stuff inside this," Ethan said, holding up the shard.

"Master, give it to meee! Luna's still hungry!"

That was all he got.

With a sigh, Ethan returned the shard to his Mindscape. Luna pounced on it like a starved kitten, and in the blink of an eye, it was gone. But clearly unsatisfied, it began pestering him for more.

He ignored it and kept walking toward the center of the valley.

The white crane earlier had looked so real that without Soul Sense detection here, he'd almost mistaken it for a living magical beast. This whole area was strange. Everything looked real—but wasn't.

More of these creatures kept appearing along his path, attacking without warning. But instead of fighting them outright, Ethan simply let them pass through his spiritual gate, into his Mindscape. Luna waited patiently. One hit. One kill. Clean and fast.

Each creature's death brought Ethan a rush of pure Soul Energy.

What was supposed to be a deadly, soul-wrecking zone—according to Micah—was starting to feel like a training ground. Like a harvest.

Out of curiosity, Ethan tried slaying one of the wraith beasts directly in the real world. It dissolved upon death, and a thin wisp of spiritual energy did enter his body. But it was far less than what he got when Luna handled it inside his Mindscape. Maybe ten, maybe twenty percent at best.

No doubt about it. Soul-Wielders could benefit immensely from this place… if they survived.

He could feel the difference already. Within his Mindscape, the lake—his Soul Energy reservoir—was rising. Fast. That kind of growth would normally take months.

As he pressed deeper into the misty valley, the enemies grew stronger, more cunning. But none could match Luna. The process remained the same: open the gate, let them in, and let Luna devour.

After what felt like hours—though time here was difficult to track, Ethan finally stepped out of the mist.

A massive lake stretched out before him, calm and silver like molten glass. And along its edge stood buildings—ancient, abandoned structures, their roofs covered in moss, their doors slightly ajar.

Then, movement.

A figure flickered across his vision, vanishing into one of the buildings.

Ethan froze.

That back… he'd recognize it anywhere.

'Nora Vance…?'

What the hell was she doing here?

He advanced quickly, crossing nearly a hundred feet in seconds, stopping in front of the building where the figure had disappeared. He hesitated, something uneasy stirring in his chest, then stepped inside.

Voices echoed faintly from deeper within.

He moved toward the sound, passing through a beaded curtain. A soft clatter followed as he entered the inner chamber—and what he saw next made his breath catch in his throat.

Nora Vance lay across an elegant lounge, clad in a sheer, pale violet gown that clung to her like mist. The fabric was nearly invisible, thin as a whisper. Her body—long, toned, radiant—was bathed in golden light that danced across her tanned skin.

Her legs shifted, brushing against each other with a slow, sensual rhythm. Her body twisted slightly, her hips tilting, her back arching as if in the throes of some inner storm. Her skin flushed with desire. Her breathing—ragged and heavy.

"Ethan…" she moaned, her voice low, thick with longing. "Come to me… darling…"

Her eyes found his, glazed with lust and heat. That same seductive glow that always threatened to undo him.

Ethan stepped closer, frowning.

She reacted immediately. Her body rose, slow and liquid, like a snake made of silk. She slithered upright, her movements fluid, deliberate. Her arms looped around his neck, her legs around his waist, drawing him in.

"Ethan…" she whispered again, her lips brushing his as her breath grew hot.


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