Level 1 to Infinity: My Bloodline Is the Ultimate Cheat!-Chapter 841: A Death Sentence

In the cramped earthen chamber, there was barely enough space to turn around, let alone fight. Packed soil pressed in from all sides, the low ceiling rough and uneven, the air thick with dust and the metallic tang of blood.

Inside his VR Capsule, the Mad Engineer had somehow propped himself up just enough to peer through the narrow reinforced viewport. His eyes were wide, darting back and forth as the battle unfolded, caught between shock, disbelief, and an unmistakable glimmer of fascination. Strangely, fear was absent. Not for the man who had fallen from the sky, at least. That much was obvious. The newcomer was not struggling. He was dismantling his opponent piece by piece.

The wolf-man tried to abandon defense entirely, throwing himself forward in a desperate exchange of blows, but it only hastened his defeat. Ethan had already layered his Iron Hide. The first layer was torn apart by a savage claw swipe that shredded his shirt and traced a thin red line across his skin. The wound was shallow, barely more than a scratch, yet it proved a critical point. The beast could hurt him.

So Ethan reinforced himself again, adding a second layer and settling into the fight with renewed focus. Bear Form flooded his body with brute strength and resilience, and in real combat he discovered something that Ethereal battles had never revealed. His offensive techniques in this form did not consume Rage Points. They drained stamina instead, unless he deliberately fused them with Energy. Rage built naturally as he fought, filling steadily with every exchanged blow, and was only spent when he triggered defensive abilities like Iron Hide.

It was an ideal balance. Bear Form was made for sustained violence, for overpowering an enemy through relentless force. Panther Form existed for speed and surgical precision, for killing quickly and cleanly. Owl Form, on the other hand, felt ill-suited to close combat. Spellcasting in the middle of a brawl was slow and awkward, too detached from the raw immediacy he preferred. Ethan trusted his fists and claws.

Yet he knew better than to underestimate it. Owl Form, bound directly to the deeper forces of nature, was arguably the most terrifying of them all. The memory surfaced unbidden, the Forbidden spell he had once cast in the Sea of Death, the celestial mass he had nearly dragged into orbit. If not for the dimensional barriers there, the consequences would have been unthinkable. That power was not a weapon. It was a catastrophe waiting for permission.

Here, buried in a hole in the ground, Bear Form was more than sufficient. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

The fight dragged on for a full ten minutes of bone-crushing brutality. In the beginning, Ethan’s movements were slightly rigid, his responses measured and deliberate, as though he were flipping through old manuals in his mind. He was shaking off rust. As time passed, the stiffness bled away. Drilled sequences dissolved into instinct, his body adapting fluidly to every swing and lunge. He parried the wolf-man’s reckless attacks with minimal motion, answering each one with crushing counters that sent shockwaves through the chamber walls.

He was steel in a forge, each impact hammering impurities out of him, raw strength merging seamlessly with refined technique.

By the end of those ten minutes, something fundamental had changed in his opponent. The blazing crimson frenzy in the wolf-man’s eyes dimmed, draining away into something far more human. Shock surfaced first, followed swiftly by fear.

Ethan had beaten the madness out of him.

The shift was immediate and devastating. Without berserker rage to prop it up, the Mutant faltered. Hesitation crept into its movements. Pain asserted itself. Several ribs were clearly broken beneath the dark bruises spreading across its torso, and each breath came harder than the last.

"Stop. Stop hitting me!"

THWACK.

Ethan’s fist slammed into its jaw. The wolf-man spun helplessly before collapsing onto the dirt floor in a tangled heap.

The transformation unraveled in seconds. Bestial features receded as if pulled back by an unseen tide. The elongated snout shortened, coarse fur sinking into pale skin. Claws withdrew, leaving behind trembling fingers tipped with blunt nails. What remained was a young man, slender and fair, his delicate features almost pretty beneath the swelling and vivid bruises that painted his face.

He curled inward, arms raised in a futile shield. "Don’t hit me anymore. I yield. I yield."

He did not try to stand. He simply sat there, shaking.

Ethan loomed over him, fist still half-raised, conflicted. The truth was uncomfortable. This had been excellent practice, a durable and aggressive opponent who had pushed him just enough to be useful. Part of him did not want it to end. But continuing to beat someone who had surrendered, who now looked more like a battered university student than a monster, crossed a line he was not willing to step over.

He lowered his fist and took a single step back, though his posture remained guarded. With a thought, energy shimmered and condensed around his hands. The Twilight Warspear shifted, metal flowing and reforming until it became a pair of brutal, clawed gauntlets. Ursar’s Claws locked into place with a sharp metallic shink, eight wicked talons gleaming in the dim light.

The fight was finished. The man had nothing left.

’Time to end it.’

Ethan’s voice was flat, stripped of any lingering heat from battle. "You failed to report to the Ninth Division. You attacked a civilian. You don’t get to live."

The young man recoiled at the sight of the claws, terror flashing openly in his eyes. But when he spoke, his words did not match the fear.

"Report? Ninth Division? What are you talking about?" His confusion sounded genuine, cutting cleanly through the panic.

Ethan frowned. "The Energy saturation in Magnolia Valley. Any Mutant who stays here to absorb it reports to the Ninth Division. If you don’t, you’re marked for execution." He let the sentence hang, convinced the man was pretending ignorance.

Instead, the young man scoffed, immediately regretting it as pain rippled across his bruised face. "Energy saturation? Here?" He let out a short, humorless laugh. "This place is watered-down trash. I wouldn’t waste my time. Why would I report for this?"

He pointed shakily toward the VR Capsule. Inside, the Mad Engineer flinched as though the finger itself were a weapon. "You’re strong. I’ll give you that. But that thief stole something from us. He took our Moonfrost Direwolf clan’s princess. Make him return her. Because whether you kill me or not doesn’t matter. My people will come from the Extreme South."

The anger in his voice sharpened as he continued, indignation spilling out with every word. Then, abruptly, his tone shifted. He straightened as much as his battered body allowed, lifting his chin despite the pain, pride blazing through his fear.

"They will sweep north like a tide. This region, this entire place, will be buried in blood and ice."

He met Ethan’s gaze without flinching, as though daring him to strike. Everything about his posture spoke the same message. His death would not be an ending. It would be a signal. A declaration that would call something far worse down upon this land.