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

Ethan swept his gaze across the chaotic crowd, searching for any sign of Julian and the others. The teleportation had dumped everyone from the different layers of the spirit realm into this place at the same time, which meant his friends had to be somewhere among them. But there were far too many people—far too many kinds of people. Even in the short time he'd been here, he'd seen more strange races than he could name.

Then the ground rumbled.

The deep, guttural roar rolled through the earth, and the volcano beneath them shuddered like a living beast. Far below, the lake of molten rock began to churn, glowing veins shifting and surging as if something massive was about to break free. The sound swelled until it seemed to claw at the inside of his skull. Ethan's instincts screamed at him to run.

'No way… is this thing about to erupt?'

A pillar of fire suddenly tore through the crater, spearing into the clouds.

"Holy—! It's actually erupting!"

Ethan didn't wait to think. His wings snapped out in a flash of light, his Swift Flight Form kicking in, and the next second he was tearing through the air.

"Julian… Micah… Blackie… wherever you are, don't die here."

He couldn't see them. He couldn't help them. All he could do was pray they were alive and moving. Around him, the air boiled with lethal heat. Anyone who could fly took to the skies; anyone who couldn't sprinted for their life. The crowd scattered like startled birds, the air filled with the sound of desperate wings and pounding feet.

The fire energy in the air was so thick it was like breathing in burning oil. Some people simply burst into flames mid-flight, their bodies flashing into ash before they could even scream. The survivors pushed themselves harder, knowing there was no way back—only forward. Ethan's gut tightened as he saw faces contorted in panic, teeth clenched as people ran until their legs failed.

The column of molten rock reached its peak, hung for a moment like a crimson sword suspended in the sky… and then came pouring down. The air grew heavy, crushing the breath out of his lungs. Even the Dreadlord—one of the terrifying powerhouses brought here from the Fifth Layer—looked shaken. His vast black wings beat furiously, but even he struggled to keep his speed as the superheated air thinned. Ethan could feel the strain too—every beat of his wings met resistance, every breath burned his chest.

"No… I don't want to die…" someone wailed nearby.

They weren't alone. In the two short minutes since the eruption began, the million people teleported into this trial had been cut in half. Those whose strength couldn't resist the fire's erosion had been reduced to ash. The rest were barely holding on, trapped in a narrowing circle of survival.

Ethan's pulse thundered. This wasn't a battle. This was nature's wrath, and nature didn't care about strength or pride.

What he didn't know—what no one knew—was that this disaster had started because of him. While trying to reclaim his lost memories in the illusion, Ethan had pushed too deep, too hard, almost bringing the City of Life and Death into reality. That act had torn open a thread of power from the Underworld itself. The force had swept through the Spirit Realm, obliterating its first seven layers. In desperation, the realm's own rules had teleported every living thing here, to the Eighth Layer. But even this layer wasn't safe—the volcanic eruption was nothing more than an aftershock of the cataclysm he'd unleashed.

If the people here knew the truth, they would rip him apart and scatter his bones to the wind.

A roar—raw, animal, and deafening—shook the sky. From the horizon, a wall of flame surged upward, meeting the falling lava and holding it back like a colossal shield. Below it, spells and abilities flared as people added their own attacks and barriers to keep the molten rain at bay. But one section of the shield drew Ethan's attention immediately—it was huge, far larger than any single mage should be able to maintain.

He narrowed his eyes, spotted the source, and changed course.

"Reddie… can you even keep that thing up?"

The girl in red stood at the center of the barrier, her hands weaving constant sigils as she poured energy into the flames above. Lava slammed against the shield, making it shudder violently.

"I told you, I'm not Reddie! And no, I can't hold it forever—why don't you try it?" she snapped at the black-clad youth grinning at her shoulder.

Blackie rubbed his nose, unfazed. "I'm just saying, maybe don't make the shield so huge? There's only four of us here, you know."

Her glare could have melted steel.

"Don't you dare shrink it!" someone yelled from inside the safety of the barrier.

"Yeah, if you shrink it, we're dead!" another added in panic.

"Not my problem!" Blackie shot back, his eyes flashing.

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

"Knock it off, Blackie. Help Reddie out," Julian said grimly.

Ethan's heart skipped when he saw Julian—alive, and with Micah right beside him. The four had clearly found each other quickly after arriving here.

"I'm not Reddie!" the girl barked again, glaring at Julian this time.

"Uh… right," Julian muttered, caught off guard.

"I don't even know how to help her," Blackie said, throwing up his hands.

"You idiot—transfer your fire energy to her," Julian groaned.

"That means I have to touch her. She won't let me," Blackie said, though the way he rubbed his palms together made his real feelings pretty clear.

"Try it and I'll cut you into pieces," the girl warned without looking up.

Julian pinched the bridge of his nose. This girl's temper was going to get them all killed. And why was Blackie so attached to her, anyway? Was he…? Julian glanced sideways at his friend.

"Julian," Micah murmured, leaning close. "Look at the mark on her neck. Doesn't it look like Blackie's?"

Julian looked again. Not just similar—identical. He'd seen Blackie's mark before, when he took human form, and he knew what it meant. Blackie's true body was a Black Qilin, a creature so rare most people thought them myths. If this girl was what Micah implied—a Fire Qilin—then suddenly Blackie's act made perfect sense.

"Julian," Micah said again, tugging on his sleeve.

"What now?"

"They stole my spatial pouch. If my runic scroll's still inside, I can open a Grand Teleportation Array and get our people out of here alive."

Julian followed his gaze to a figure edging into the shield.

"You sure?"

"Yes," Micah said firmly. "If it's there, I can do it."

Julian's mouth twisted. "And you're sure I can beat him? You're not trying to get me killed, are you?"

Micah blinked, then swore under his breath. "Damn it—he's War God rank now? When he robbed me, he was only Elysium!"

He recalled that the guy had just descended from the sky and flown into the protective shield.