Level 1 to Infinity: My Bloodline Is the Ultimate Cheat!-Chapter 884: The Hand of Time

Confident in his theory, Ethan allowed himself a small smile and stepped back onto the pale, chalky earth without hesitation.

Behind him, however, the bounty hunters trailing through the forbidden zone were having a far rougher experience.

When they had first crossed the boundary, many of them had been ecstatic. Years vanished from their bodies in an instant. Wrinkles smoothed out. Old injuries faded. Some, freed from the weight of a decade or more, found themselves restored to their physical prime. That initial excitement did not last long. In the second layer, several people were abruptly reduced to toddlers the moment they stepped forward. Panic erupted. Screaming and sobbing, they scrambled backward across the safety line, terrified to advance even another step. From that point on, only those with enough years to spare dared to continue.

Then they reached the chasm.

And then they met the hand.

The first person to rush forward barely had time to react before the massive palm rose from the void. One casual slap sent him tumbling back, transformed into a squalling infant before he hit the ground. The sight froze everyone in place.

"I thought this would be simple," muttered a man in his thirties, staring at the spot where the hand had disappeared. "Just a lot of competition." Judging by the earlier layers, he had to be at least fifty in real age.

A woman about his age shot him a sharp glance. She was blonde, blue-eyed. "Oh, look at you, Mike. Not bad-looking when you were young," she said with a mocking smile. "What, getting cold feet already? If so, take your squad and crawl back to Germany. Hehehe."

Her laughter was deliberately provocative.

Mike did not even turn his head. He treated her taunt like background noise. The woman’s laugh faltered, then died completely. When she realized he was ignoring her, her expression hardened, eyes narrowing with open hostility.

Before she could say more, another voice cut in. "Since nobody’s backing out, maybe it’s time we cooperate."

Several heads turned toward the speaker.

"Cooperate?" someone echoed.

The man stepped forward. "Look around. I’m the only wind-elemental mutant left here, right?"

"So what?" someone snapped.

"So I have a skill that can let everyone fly," he said calmly. "This chasm isn’t narrow enough for most of you to jump across. Gliding won’t cut it either. But that hand..." He paused, letting the memory settle. "That hand is something we can only deal with together. It’s the only way through."

Murmurs rippled through the group as people considered his words.

He was right. Without true flight, crossing the chasm was nearly impossible. Worse, without the ability to maneuver freely in midair, the hand was an unavoidable obstacle. But if they could fly like a wind-elemental, twist and change direction at will, they might be able to evade it or overwhelm it.

"How fast?" someone asked. "How flexible?"

"That depends on you," the wind-elemental replied. "My skill just converts your released energy into lift and control."

"I’ll try it," a man volunteered.

The wind-elemental nodded. "Go ahead."

With a casual wave of his hand, a ripple of invisible force wrapped around the volunteer. The man rose slowly off the ground, testing his balance. He twisted, spun, and darted through the air. A ripple of impressed murmurs followed.

"How long does it last?" someone asked.

"If I’m buffing this many people?" the wind-elemental said. "About five minutes."

His smile never wavered.

"I’m in," Mike said immediately.

Once he spoke, others followed in quick succession. One by one, nearly everyone agreed to cooperate.

Nearly.

Eight figures stood apart from the rest, draped in white robes, utterly still. The wind-elemental glanced in their direction, but they did not acknowledge him. Their backs remained turned. He shrugged. Cooperation was voluntary. He was not about to force it.

Not everyone shared his restraint.

"You there," a man from the blonde woman’s squad snapped, pointing at the eight. "Planning to freeload? Either join us or get lost, or I’ll—"

Ssshk.

"Ghhk..."

The man froze, clutching his throat. His eyes went wide as blood seeped between his fingers. He collapsed to the ground without another sound.

The blonde woman’s gaze dropped in horror. A single feather, stained red, drifted gently down and came to rest beside her fallen subordinate. The sight stole the breath from her lungs. Around them, the entire group went silent.

Everyone there recognized that feather.

The number one unranked force on the Dark Web. A team no one had ever encountered and lived to describe. The Feathers.

Their legend was short and brutal. Feathers fall. Blood follows.

No one knew whether they were truly angels, as some rumors claimed. Most believed they were fallen ones. Angels were meant to bring light and salvation. Only the fallen killed without hesitation, treating human life as something expendable.

This was the first time the Feathers had ever revealed themselves in public. Whatever lay in this forbidden zone, those energy crystals must have been worth an unimaginable fortune to draw even them out.

As the blood-soaked feather settled on the ground, a chill seemed to crawl up every spine present. Anyone who had ever seen the Feathers before was rumored to be fertilizer by now. Were they about to join them?

The urge to run was overwhelming.

But after that single, precise kill, the eight white-robed figures made no further move. Slowly, painfully, the tension began to ease. People exchanged wary glances, afraid to speak too loudly, or at all.

Finally, the wind-elemental broke the silence. "Let’s just... get across first."

He moved his hands in a series of practiced gestures. One by one, the sensation of flight settled over the assembled group. No one argued. Everyone was eager to put as much distance as possible between themselves and those eight silent figures. Standing near the Feathers felt like standing beside an open grave.

They rose into the air, clustering together as planned. The strategy was simple. The moment the hand appeared, they would strike with everything they had. Overwhelm it. Break it.

BOOM.

The instant the first person drifted out over the chasm, the dormant hand erupted upward from the void.

WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!

Spells detonated midair. Mutants unleashed their abilities. Energy users drew weapons and swung. A storm of violence converged on the massive palm, filling the chasm with light, sound, and raw power.

Back on the cliff’s edge, nine figures remained. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

The eight white-robed members of the Feathers, and the wind-elemental who had just given everyone else the power to fly.