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

Dana's actions left Ethan completely bewildered.

She called him her benefactor? She wanted ten Thousand Ants to gnaw the mole's bones?

What the hell was going on?

"You… you're a Beastmaster too?" Ethan finally blurted out after struggling with the question for far too long.

"No," Dana said, brushing the dust from her robe, her mood clearly lifted after handling the giant mole named Gorr. Her voice softened. "I'm a Spirit-Summoning Priest."

"Spirit-Summoning Priest? You deal with ghosts?" Ethan's mind instantly conjured images of so called spiritualists back on Earth—charlatans in flowing robes, muttering incantations to invisible spirits.

"Ghosts?" Dana gave him a puzzled look, then smiled faintly. "Is that what you think this is?"

She stepped closer, brushing past him. "And now, Master Ethan, are you still going to deny it?"

"I… deny what?" he retorted stiffly, jaw tight.

He knew they must've figured out Gorr's death long ago. The City Lord had remained far too calm when his men reported it—completely unconcerned.

What Ethan hadn't expected was that Dana, this seemingly sweet and delicate girl, was actually Gorr's biological sister. And now that he looked more closely, the resemblance was obvious—especially their shared pale complexion. Good genes, apparently.

But this wasn't the time to confess anything. Whether she hated Gorr or not, this could all be an elaborate trap. And that mole—what was the deal with that giant mole anyway? That's what truly bothered him.

Dana pouted and huffed. "Hmph. So stubborn."

"Alright, Dana, why dig deeper? He helped you get your revenge, didn't he?" the City Lord interjected smoothly, stepping in before the conversation could spiral further. "Let's handle the more pressing matter first. Dana, is the west side of the city clear?"

As he spoke, the old man lifted the sound-insulating barrier surrounding them.

The moment it dropped, a flood of noise returned. Everyone outside, who had been watching the silent exchange like a pantomime, could finally hear again. Their eyes turned immediately toward Dana.

"The small ones aren't a problem," she replied, glancing toward the horizon. "But the big one…"

Everyone followed her gaze. In the distance stood a colossal figure—a Pincer-tailed Sand Badgers King, towering over a thousand meters tall. The beast wasn't moving. It simply loomed, eerily still, its gaze seemingly locked on the city wall.

Regis gave Ethan a half-smile.

"The big one will be handled by us old-timers… and you, Master Ethan."

"What the hell does that have to do with me?" Ethan blurted, completely thrown off.

The sheer audacity of Ethan's statement left the others on the wall stunned. One of the older men, almost Regis's age, stepped forward, his face darkening.

But before he could say a word, Ethan snapped.

"You want to talk down to me? Think twice before saying anything, or I'll knock your teeth out ."

The man's face turned a dangerous shade of red, his eyes bulging with fury. If Regis hadn't been standing right there, he would've lunged. For someone of his standing—a man used to being bowed to, fawned over by juniors—Ethan's defiance was a slap in the face.

He had been savoring the moment earlier, watching Gorr the Elder get taken down a peg after years of being pushed aside. This was supposed to be his chance to climb back up. But now, just as he stepped forward to reassert his presence, Regis casually patted Ethan on the shoulder and said:

"Brother, would you mind helping me hold the line later?"

The entire wall went still.

"Brother?" The Vice City Lord's face went dark purple. Just a second ago, Ethan had been "Master." Now he was "Brother"?

And then Regis added, "Hold the line." Against that thing? Was Regis serious? That beast wasn't just a powerful mutant—it was an anomaly. A nightmare from the forgotten corners of ancient history. No one even knew its true strength.

Ethan's eyes narrowed, thoughts racing. He'd been trying to find the City Lord's limits, but now it seemed like his standing had somehow risen several ranks.

"Fine," Ethan said, slowly. "I'll hold the line. But the core—it's mine."

Regis blinked. Then, understanding, he chuckled. "As long as you help Beastfall City through this, not only the core… I'll give you the Sigil of the Wild Legion to play with. What's the harm?"

His tone was light, but to those on the wall, his words hit like thunder. The Sigil of the Wild Legion—the symbol of the City Lord's authority.

"Seriously?" Ethan's eyes lit up.

"Of course."

"City Lord, no!"

"Master—please reconsider!"

"Even if we die, we'll protect the city ourselves!"

"There's no need to bring in an outsider!"

"Exactly! That kid hasn't even grown his hair out. You think he can take on a King?"

"Star Priests are rare, sure, but there've been three in ten thousand years—and not one of them lasted!"

"Kid, I'm telling you—turn it down, unless you want to die."

The wall erupted into shouts and protests. Some even threatened him outright.

"Shut up."

Boom.

Two roars—one verbal, one physical—shook the wall.

Regis's voice cut like a blade through the chaos. The air itself trembled.

"I am the City Lord," he said coldly. "And while I still breathe, none of you have the right to speak."

It was the first time anyone had seen the kindly old man truly angry. His tone left no room for debate. The murmurs died down instantly. All they could do now was glare at Ethan, hoping he'd be eaten alive by the King the moment he stepped out.

Ethan turned to Regis, studying him carefully.

"Why?" he asked. "Why me? Why hand over your Sigil?"

Regis looked him in the eye, then a whisper tickled Ethan's ear. A Soul Technique—direct communication between minds.

"There's a saying in this Sea of Death," Regis said, his voice ethereal.

"Celestial fire descends upon the dome…

When the ancient barrier breaks open…

Blood King arrives, the Dead Sea perishes…

Only a sliver of hope remains."

Ethan frowned. The words echoed strangely in his mind. He vaguely remembered omething like that among the soul sense techniques taught to him by Morzan. Trying it out, clumsily, he replied, "What kind of melodramatic nonsense is that?"

Regis chuckled. "The Celestial fire—that was your doing, wasn't it? Don't bother denying it. When you cast that spell earlier, I recognized it immediately. That night, I was stargazing from the eastern tower. I saw the pillar of light descending from the sky. It matched your magic exactly."

Ethan cursed silently. The damn spell had too many special effects. So flashy that even an old man thousands of miles away had spotted it. He didn't deny it.

"So what?" he said. "If three out of four lines are saying I'll bring doom, why give me the Sigil? You're not afraid I'll destroy the city myself?"

Regis smiled, then spoke again—still through Soul Technique.

"Everyone knows those first four lines. But there are four more, passed only from one City Lord to the next:

Four seals unite, the King appears.

The sand sea unified, now at hand.

Eight years to break the void and return to the sky. One hundred years, the sand sea becomes a forest."

Ethan froze.

Eight years. That matched exactly the duration of his mission. With the severe time dilation in this world, it wouldn't be a surprise spending 8 years in this place.

And the next line: Break the void and return to the sky—wasn't that his ultimate goal? To return to Earth, to Ethereal?

The final line spoke of a transformed desert—a sand sea turned to forest. That had to refer to the World Tree's Nirvana, which would bring life back to this barren wasteland in a century.

If Regis had made this up, it was far too accurate. And if he hadn't made it up… then someone, somewhere, had predicted Ethan's arrival with terrifying precision.

He shivered involuntarily, as though someone had slapped him across the back of the head. Snapping out of it, Ethan asked, "What do the first two lines mean? How do you know I'm the one?"

Before Regis could answer, Dana's urgent voice broke in.

"Master, the City Defense Force is out of ammunition! The City Guard is about to collapse!"

Ethan turned. The wall was under siege.

Pincer-tailed Sand Badgers had broken through the defenses. The guards were fighting tooth and nail, but too many had already fallen. Even the support forces had taken up blades and joined the fray.

Regis nodded once.

"Dana, this side is yours."

"Qinn—take the East Gate. I imagine it's in the same condition."

"Hank—you handle the South Gate."

Ethan noticed the men he named were the only ones who hadn't insulted him earlier. Neither argued. They simply stepped onto a formation platform behind them and vanished in a flash of light.

Teleportation arrays. Ethan had noticed them earlier, wondering what they were for.

Now he knew.

"And the North Gate…" Regis paused, frowning.

There was no one left to send.

Of the city's five Priests, the Gorr family had held three. With Gorr the younger dead, that left one—his father, Priest Gorr the Elder. But that old bastard was worse than useless in battle. A predator dressed in piety, he was likely more focused on political games than actual war.

Regis knew the truth.

Gorr—nominally his nephew—was actually his own biological son. Dana, though from the same mother, was four years younger. Her real father had been Gorr the Elder's older brother, a man too weak to resist the monstrous tyranny of his family.

When Dana was sixteen, that old man took her innocence.

And Gorr jr… her so-called brother… raped her as well.

They thought their secrets were hidden, but with the Sigil of the Wild Legion, nothing escaped Regis. It was no magical artifact. It was hyper-advanced tech—millions of years ahead of Earth. And it recorded everything.

Dana never spoke of it. But she remembered the night Bongo—her companion—broke in during one of the attacks. She had told her to run. When she woke, Bongo was beside her, thankfully unharmed and untouched.

Since then, Priest Gorr the Elder mysteriously avoided her completely whenever she was in the company of Bongo.