Level 1 to Infinity: My Bloodline Is the Ultimate Cheat!-Chapter 378: The Hunter and the Hunted

Author’s Note:

Hey guys, just a heads-up! Because of a network issue, I accidentally posted the next Chapter before this one. Unfortunately, I can’t delete or reorder the Chapters, so please read the next Chapter first, then come back to this one—it’ll make a lot more sense that way. Thanks for bearing with me!

—-

Ethan nearly laughed aloud at their antics.

He had intended to deal with this little group after packing up his things, but now they were surrounding him, shouting demands like overconfident children. Ethan was confident he could swat all of them down with a single hand. And yet, here they were—brimming with arrogance, demanding he kneel.

"Well, well, Young Master," Ethan said, feigning polite surprise. "My apologies. My eyes must be failing me. I hadn’t realized I was in the presence of such... nobility."

His expression was all theatrics, a perfect mask of astonishment.

Before the so-called Young Master could reply, one of his followers stepped forward and shouted, "Kid, listen up! This is Hunter—the eighth in line to become chieftain of the Cloudwing Tribe! He carries the noble bloodline of the Cloudwing Falcon—eleven percent pure! You’re nothing but a human. Kneel now if you know what’s good for you!"

Cloudwing Falcon? Noble bloodline?

Ethan gave Hunter a thorough once-over, scrutinizing him from head to toe. A hybrid... calling himself noble?

Hunter, hearing the mention of the Cloudwing Falcon, lifted his chin, chest puffed with pride. He practically radiated arrogance, as if he were looking down on the world through his nostrils. That Falcon lineage clearly fed his ego—it was his badge of honor.

Ethan nodded slowly, wearing an expression of deep admiration.

"Impressive," he murmured. "Truly impressive... Remarkable, indeed."

Hunter’s stiff expression eased slightly, pleased with the praise. But Ethan wasn’t finished.

"I really do admire you," Ethan continued, voice light, tone laced with irony. "A hybrid, parading around as noble. And eighth in line, no less. That’s some ambition. You planning to kill off the first seven heirs ahead of you? Is that why you’re flaunting your status?"

He tilted his head and added with a cold smile, "Tell me—has your audacity grown thicker than the feathers of your Cloudwing Falcon?

That was the last straw.

"You’re asking for death!" Hunter snarled.

Boom!

Before the words had fully left his mouth, there was an explosive sound. No one even saw Ethan move. In an instant, Hunter was on the ground, eyes rolled back, body convulsing.

His mount—a creature of unknown species—had been reduced to a heap of mangled, bloody flesh.

The dozen or so people standing with him blinked in stunned confusion. None of them had seen what happened. One moment, Hunter was posturing—then he was sprawled on the ground, twitching. His neck was twisted unnaturally, bones shattered, his body completely limp.

"You... you... what are you doing?" someone stammered.

Ethan looked down at Hunter, now beneath his foot. Though his body was wrecked beyond recognition, strangely, he wasn’t dead. That piqued Ethan’s interest.

The others screamed, drawing their weapons, but none dared approach. Instead, they slowly began backing away.

Ethan stepped harder on Hunter’s face, then pointed at the young woman holding Little Empty.

"Release the chains," he ordered, voice dark and heavy.

The woman flinched and trembled. She didn’t hesitate. With shaking hands, she undid the restraints.

"Squeak, squeak, squeak!" Little Empty scampered free, bounding in a few leaps before springing up onto Ethan’s shoulder.

Just then, among the retreating group, someone fumbled in their robes and suddenly yanked a string.

"A firecracker?" Ethan muttered. "No... a flare!"

But it was already too late.

Whoosh!

A sharp, eagle-like cry tore through the sky. A flare burst into the air, exploding into the shape of a fiery bird. The dark sky lit up. The flaming creature hovered, majestic and unmistakable.

It was the Cloudwing Falcon symbol—their call for reinforcements.

"Kid!" the man shouted triumphantly. "I’ve already sent the signal! Powerful backup is coming, so you’d better surrender—"

Crack!

He didn’t get to finish.

A stone the size of a fist struck him squarely in the mouth, knocking out all his teeth and sending him flying off his mount. He hit the ground hard and didn’t get up.

Ethan had casually kicked the stone in annoyance. It was bad luck for the guy—stones were rare in the Sea of Death, yet one just happened to be there at Ethan’s feet.

Now, the rest of them stared at Ethan in horror. It finally dawned on them—they’d provoked the wrong person.

They glanced at the monkey perched on Ethan’s shoulder and cursed their own stupidity.

Why didn’t we believe what that monkey said? they thought. We should’ve just grabbed it and run. Why did we come here to die?

In the Sea of Death, many people could understand beast speech—especially those with Beast Tamer talent. The young woman who had been holding Little Empty was a Beast Tamer apprentice. When they spotted Little Empty playing in the distance earlier, they’d surrounded and captured it. But the monkey had started screaming.

It had forced the girl to translate.

Little Empty had warned them: let him go, or his boss would wake up—and they would all regret it. It even boasted that his boss could slap them all to death with a single palm.

They had laughed.

The monkey had cursed them, daring them to try if they didn’t believe him. And because none of them had ever been mocked by a monkey before, they got angry. And so... they went looking for Ethan.

Now, thinking back, the monkey hadn’t exaggerated a bit.

Their strongest fighter, Young Master Hunter, had been flattened by a single slap. They hadn’t even seen the strike. And now, there he lay—limp, broken, face pinned under Ethan’s boot.

What now?

They could only pray reinforcements arrived quickly. If something happened to Hunter, none of them would escape punishment—not even if they made it back alive.

"Don’t kill me! Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you!" Hunter suddenly cried.

Though his body was broken, his mind remained sharp. He was trying to buy his life.

"Relax," Ethan said coolly. "I’m not going to kill you. I don’t care to. Just behave—and don’t resist. Or I’ll slap you again, and this time, you will die."

He lifted his foot from Hunter’s face.

Hunter shuddered, eyes darting toward his dead mount. Doesn’t care to kill me? he thought. Liar. If my bones weren’t so tough, I’d be a bloody pulp too.

Ethan crouched beside him, then raised a single finger and touched it to Hunter’s forehead.

He activated a skill he’d picked up from the Soul Sense technique. He had originally meant to use it on Priest Gorr, but that guy had died too quickly. Hunter, however, seemed like a better candidate. Someone with value—someone who might know things.

"Soul Search," Ethan whispered.

[Ding... System Notification: Reading information. Constructing game background history.]

"...What the hell?" Ethan muttered.

’This is my Soul Sense. Why is the system interfering?’

Sea of Death... Southwest Domain...

Beastfall City... Cloudwing Tribe... Greatfang Tiger Tribe... Earthsplitter Rhino Tribe... Long-Arm Ape Tribe...

Humans: lowest, most despicable race.

[Ding... System Notification: Reading complete. Game background history constructed.]

[Ding... Side Quest Triggered: Turn the Tide. Reward: Human Reputation +2000.]

The information Ethan pulled from Hunter’s mind stunned him.

Uncle Jed had once told him that humans were considered second-class citizens outside the Sea of Death. Ethan had assumed the Sea of Death was some kind of sanctuary—a protected zone created by a powerful being to shield humanity.

But now, he saw the truth. The same low regard for humans existed here in the Southwest Domain of the Sea of Death, ruled by Beastfall City.

Beastfall City...

Ethan stood up slowly, thoughts swirling. His eyes narrowed with quiet intensity.

What shocked him most was how deeply ingrained this belief system was. From birth, these tribes had been taught that humans were inferior. He also discovered that within this region, humans could intermarry with Beastfolk, and many tribes had evolved into hybrid societies over generations.

But the Beastfolk hadn’t always been here.

According to what he saw, ten thousand years ago, a massive earthquake shook the Sea of Death. From the chaos, the Beastfolk emerged—no one knew from where. At first, they were unwelcome. But over the millennia, they gained power... and influence. Now, they dominated the Southwest Domain—and shaped the minds of the hybrids born here.

Ethan finally understood Hunter’s arrogance.

It came from that sliver of Cloudwing Falcon blood in his veins—one of the rare flying races among the Beastfolk. That gave their lineage a status boost.

As for the human young men and women in Hunter’s group, they were sons and daughters of human tribe chieftains—sent here to curry favor with the hybrids. To serve them. Entertain them. Be used by them.

Among the group, the young woman named Clara—the one who had held Little Empty—was the only one Hunter hadn’t yet managed to claim.

According to Hunter’s memories, she seemed to pursue him constantly. But every time he tried to make a move, she would slip away with clever excuses. That either meant she was cunning... or that someone had given her strict orders... or that she had no choice in the matter.

Ethan’s thoughts were interrupted.

"You lowly human brat! How dare you lay a hand on our Young Master Eight!"

A thunderous voice cut through the air.

Ethan’s eyes shifted. His Soul Sense suddenly picked up dozens—no, hundreds—of figures closing in fast. Mounts kicked up clouds of dust in every direction.

Five kilometers was nothing for elite riders.

In the blink of an eye, Ethan was surrounded.