Level 1 to Infinity: My Bloodline Is the Ultimate Cheat!-Chapter 850: The Dust, the Beast, and the Staff

Leo caught the grin tugging at Ethan’s face, and in that instant his own gaze sharpened, instinct screaming at him that his opponent still had room to move.

Can he still dodge? The thought barely finished forming before Leo poured more strength into his arms, muscles tightening as the sweeping staff accelerated with a low, hungry whistle through the air.

Just as the blow was about to smash into Ethan’s side, the enormous Bear form vanished as if it had never existed. In its place, a Panther pressed itself flat against the arena floor, body sleek and tight, hugging the dirt so closely that the sweeping arc passed harmlessly overhead.

"Holy shit, that works?!" someone gasped from the stands.

The spectators who had been bracing to see the so-called Druid God knocked sprawling stared in stunned disbelief. No one had expected Ethan to evade an army-level sweep with something as deceptively simple as a mid-strike form shift.

Leo’s heart skipped, but his hands didn’t falter. He had been swinging one-handed before, but now he clamped both hands around the staff, forcibly arresting its horizontal momentum. In the same fluid motion, he tilted the weapon downward and drove it straight toward the Panther’s exposed back, turning the miss into an overhead smash.

The muscles in Leo’s arms bulged as the staff descended. This strike carried even more force than the sweep, and from far closer range.

"You’re not getting away this time, boss!" Leo laughed, confidence bleeding into his voice. He’d deliberately held back on the first swing, keeping a trick in reserve.

Ethan felt a flicker of appreciation at the quick adjustment. The kid’s learning. Getting sneaky. Then he remembered where Leo’s training came from, and the surprise dissolved into something closer to fond irritation. Uncle Jed. Of course. That old fox had always loved layered tricks.

"We’ll see about that," Ethan shot back.

"Then do a lazy donkey roll! Let’s see if your reputation can take it!" Leo taunted, the grin in his voice unmistakable.

Technically, the smash could be dodged by rolling aside. But the look on Leo’s face made his intent obvious. He was baiting Ethan into looking ridiculous. For someone with Ethan’s fame and status, flopping through the dirt like a novice would be meme fuel for weeks.

Sure enough, a handful of spectators had already activated their recording functions, fingers hovering eagerly, hoping to immortalize the moment the Druid God humbled himself.

The corners of Ethan’s Panther mouth curled upward into a sharp, knowing smirk. You think you’re going to see me humiliated? Keep dreaming.

His body coiled, front paws anchoring firmly as his hind legs kicked violently to the side. The Panther pivoted like a compass needle snapping north, spinning a full 180 degrees in a heartbeat.

Leo’s staff slammed tip-first into the arena floor. The spot where it should have crushed the Panther’s hindquarters was empty, while the upper end of the weapon sliced through the air above Ethan’s head, missing by inches.

Seeing the opening vanish, Leo immediately pressed down, trying to pin Ethan to the ground with the staff’s shaft.

But Ethan’s rear paws scrabbled, found purchase, and then kicked back with brutal force.

Whoosh.

A dense spray of dust and grit erupted from the ground, blasting straight toward Leo’s face.

"Damn it, boss! That’s dirty!" Leo yelped, staggering back to avoid swallowing half the arena.

"You block my view with a damn ale cask, but I can’t throw a little sand?" Ethan snapped back, already shifting position.

Though Leo avoided the worst of the blast, the cloud lingered stubbornly in the air. Ethan’s kick had dug deep, compacting the ground and ensuring the dust rose thick and slow to settle.

Up in the stands, the would-be meme collectors found their excitement replaced with something closer to awe. The precise timing of Ethan’s initial dodge had already been impressive, a lesson in reading weapon arcs, and now this. The joke was on them. They were watching something genuinely masterful.

The Druid God lives up to the hype, many found themselves thinking.

Anyone who had bought a ticket felt the price was justified. This was likely the first public one-on-one match where Ethan had truly showcased his combat style and mastery of his class. For Druid players especially, it was eye-opening.

The arena’s fair-duel mode stripped away gear advantages, and what remained was proof that Druids were not inherently weak. Ethan’s movements made it clear that forms were not static templates but flexible tools, meant to be chained, bent, and abused creatively.

It also matched the personality people had glimpsed the day before. Ethan had a vindictive streak. Leo had blocked his vision with a cask at the start of the match, and the first chance he got, Ethan paid it back with a faceful of dust.

The technique itself was clever. Had Leo stayed put, the compacted spray would have hit him like a blunt projectile. By retreating, he avoided the direct impact, but the cloud kept moving.

Poof.

It blossomed outward, spreading like an umbrella directly over the point where Leo stopped, swallowing him whole. His figure disappeared into the ochre haze, leaving only a vague, shifting silhouette.

Inside the cloud, Leo narrowed his eyes but didn’t panic. His vision was gone, but he trusted that Ethan wouldn’t recklessly charge in. Even so, the staff began to spin around him in a tight, controlled whirl, forming a defensive barrier while also stirring the dust, thinning it bit by bit.

When Ethan spoke, Leo’s ears twitched. The sound gave him everything he needed. His body moved as one with the weapon, and he thrust the staff toward the source of the voice.

The reaction wasn’t just fast. It was instinctively brilliant.

Ethan regretted opening his mouth the instant the words left it, but regret came too late.

A dark point pierced through the dust, the tip of Leo’s black-iron staff emerging like a fang.

From the opening clash until now, aside from Leo’s two Energy Bursts to close the distance, neither combatant had used an active attack skill.

The moment that cold, dark point appeared, the fur along Ethan’s Panther spine stood on end.

Danger.

He was locked on.

Leo’s voice rolled out from within the cloud, deep and resonant. "Savage Charge!"

MOOOO—!

A deep, bestial bellow erupted from the staff’s tip as it swelled, expanding into something massive. A gigantic bovine head and torso burst forth, connected to a thick, serpentine tail. Half bull, half snake, the creature surged forward as a manifestation of the black-iron staff itself.

"No way... a Sky-Bull Serpent?!" someone shouted from the stands, disbelief thick in their voice.

Most of the spectators stared blankly until the name spread.

"A Sky-Bull Serpent? What’s that?" someone nearby asked at once.

"A mythical beast from legend! The embodiment of pure strength! You know those stories about the pillar of heaven that was shattered? They say the god who broke it took the form of a Sky-Bull Serpent. Let me tell you, the stories say that god..."

The man who had blurted out the name straightened with visible pride as attention turned his way, launching into an increasingly animated explanation, his words tumbling over one another as the crowd listened.