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

Inside Beastfall City, panic thickened in the air like smoke.

The City Lord's command had echoed from the walls, but instead of bringing comfort, it only deepened the fear of the already terrified crowd. They knew what it meant: the city gates were opening.

Then, a low tremor rolled beneath their feet.

Even within the fortified city walls, the ground seemed to groan, as if something vast and dreadful approached. Dirt and shattered wood began to tremble, twitching in warning. Far beyond the horizon, shadows began to stretch—swelling like a wave ready to crash.

It came.

A tidal surge of Pincer-tailed Sand Badgers—a horde so vast it blanketed the land—rolled forward with unstoppable momentum. Their armored bodies churned the mud and sand into frothing sludge as they advanced, countless beyond measure, gaining speed as they barreled toward Beastfall City's outer gates.

At the forefront of the chaos, the fleeing civilians screamed and stumbled.

"Save us…!"

"Please! My child—someone, help!"

A mother tripped. Her child flew from her grasp, landing helplessly in the sludge. No one stopped to help. A few even trampled the woman as they ran, desperate to save themselves.

Thud!

Suddenly, the ground before them caved inward, a sandpit erupting in a geyser of earth and filth. From it, a slender figure rose.

"Damn it, move!" someone yelled, seeing the man in their path.

They charged him blindly, not stopping.

A whisper escaped the man's nostrils. "...Die."

Crack. Crack. Crack.

Three heads burst open like overripe fruit, skulls rupturing in perfect unison. Their bodies took a few sluggish steps forward before crumpling at his feet.

The man didn't flinch. His cold eyes swept across the scene. He bent down, lifted the crying child from the sand, and walked to the woman still crawling for breath. Kneeling, he placed the child back into her arms.

"T-thank you… thank you…" she whispered between sobs.

"Go," the man said, waving her off.

High above, on the towering city wall, Uncle Jed swore loudly. "Damn that brat!" he barked, slapping the stone wall with an open palm.

Then, without warning, he seized a rope ladder and began sliding down from the thousand-yard-high battlements. Ormund and Inugoro gawked in stunned silence. Jed wasn't built like Ethan—he lacked the insane physical power. So instead of leaping, he used the ropes abandoned by the City Guards who'd descended before.

Ethan, however, had simply jumped.

From the same thousand-yard height, he had leapt from the wall like a madman. But in truth, he wasn't suicidal—he had activated his Wingbeat skill at intervals during the fall, reducing his speed and softening his landing. He'd canceled the skill a hundred yards above the ground to make it look like a raw jump, far more dramatic than any rope descent.

But this was only one scene in a war stretching dozens of miles. Ethan couldn't save everyone. It was only chance that had placed that woman and her child in front of him.

And besides, Ethan wasn't the kind of man who could just look the other way.

Raised in the values of Earth, he couldn't not act. To ignore someone in such a desperate moment would've been, in his mind, unforgivable.

Still, from the city walls, many onlookers—local warriors, foreign powerhouses, old masters, and young elites—sneered at what they saw.

What's he showing off for? Stay inside the city like everyone else.

If Ethan could've heard them, he would've laughed and shouted: No, you idiots!

Moments before leaping, he had secretly examined an item in his inventory. A demon core.

---

[Fire-Elemental Demon Core (Tier 4)]

Type: Gem

Attribute: Increases fire damage by 40%

Description: Can be socketed into a gem slot.

---

Ethan's eyes had nearly popped out of his skull.

What kind of god-tier bonus is that?!

In Ethereal, only weapons of Silver-tier or higher could be socketed, and the skills to do so were rare. Most life-skill practitioners were still stuck at the Intermediate level. The crafting tier system was long: Apprentice, Novice, Intermediate, Advanced, Expert, Master, Grandmaster.

Getting to Master was hard enough. But Grandmaster? That required a brutal quest-exam from a professional trainer—and you only got ten attempts. Fail all ten? You were locked out forever.

Ethan figured once the Fortress Wars ended, he'd power-level his clone's crafting skills. With the Blessed Seal of Crafting he'd passed to the Mad Engineer, he could push into Advanced-tier. That bonus alone gave +2 levels, allowing him to start opening gem slots on gear.

And with this Fire-Elemental Core's insane stats? He couldn't ignore it. He wouldn't.

Even the Tier 2 demon core he'd begged off Ormund—though lacking an elemental affinity—increased defense by a full 20%. Compare that to a Divine-tier gem, which only offered 35%... and those were legendary.

Ormund had explained: demon cores were different from beastfolk cores. Not every beast had them. Tier 1 beasts had a low drop rate, but they were easier to kill. Higher-tier beasts had better chances, but often self-destructed before death—making their cores rare, valuable, and extremely risky to harvest.

The Pincer-tailed Sand Badgers, once fully grown, were all Tier 3 beasts.

Ethan's eyes practically glowed. 'They're treasures—every single one of them!'

With a grin, he leapt headfirst into the fray.

---

He landed hard in front of the Western City Guards, a blur of motion and blood as he crashed into the front lines. The Guards, however, were more cautious. They landed behind the retreating civilians, forming a mobile wall, redirecting people toward the open city gates and intercepting the fastest badgers closing in.

Three hundred thousand Guards spread into formation, creating a barrier that allowed for an orderly retreat.

"Four Quadrant City Defense Forces—prepare to engage!" came the booming command. "Attack freely! Don't hit our own!"

Inside the city, the City Lord's voice rang out again, calm and steady.

The City Guards and City Defense Force were separate military bodies. The Defense Force operated the massive structures—arrow towers, siege ballistas, rotating launchers. Normally, city defense didn't require boots on the ground. Only when enemies breached the walls would the City Guards be sent in.

But this—this was different.

Beastfall City hadn't seen true battle for generations. Not in any living memory. Even City Lord Regis, who'd ruled for over a century, had never commanded in war. And yet now, his weathered eyes gleamed with anticipation, as though he'd waited his whole life for this.

Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said of his troops.

The City Guards and Defense Force, though trained, had never fought a real war. Their bodies obeyed, but their hearts trembled.

Then Regis gave the order.

"Fire!"

From atop the thousand-yard wall, the commanders bellowed, and the city responded like a living weapon.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Enormous bowstrings snapped as siege crossbows fired. Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh— arrows as long as spears hissed through the sky.

Flaming arrows from the towers turned the sky red with sparks.

Then came the boulders—wrapped in oil-soaked straw, lit and launched like meteors. Fire trailed behind them as they screamed through the sky.

The Pincer-tailed Sand Badgers below—vast in number but mostly Tier 1 and 2—were torn apart. Limbs flew. Blood soaked the sand. The air filled with smoke and the iron scent of gore.

But these beasts had no fear. No pain. No cries.

The smell of blood only fueled them.

Roarless and mindless, they surged harder.

"Move! Into the city! Faster—go, go, GO!"

The gates were wide, but not wide enough. Tens of thousands of civilians couldn't funnel through at once. The Guards hacked down badgers as fast as they could, but it was like holding back a tide with a broom.

There were just too many.

Even this "small" force of sand badgers still numbered in the billions. And the City Guards, trained but untested, were barely holding their lines. Just not fleeing was a feat on its own.

Above, the Defense Force reloaded.

A single breath of stillness passed before the next volley.

But in that brief gap…

From the dunes beyond, another surge crested the hills.

Millions more Pincer-tailed Sand Badgers charged—unstoppable and unafraid—bearing down on the thinning front lines.