Level 1 to Infinity: My Bloodline Is the Ultimate Cheat - Chapter 673

Chapter 673: The White Tiger Awakens

“It’s you…?”

Whoosh…

A figure shot out from the distant cluster of elaborate buildings, his arrival cutting through the air like a blade.

Hundreds of mutant creatures followed in his wake. The puppets that had been lying in wait for Ethan’s group instantly broke formation and gathered behind the newcomer, as if he were their master.

He was dressed in a dark purple robe dyed with wild grass, tied at the waist with a dark emerald sash patterned like lightning. His long black hair rippled like a storm cloud, and his eyes were bright and sharp. There was an effortless grace about him—handsome, refined, almost otherworldly.

The moment Ethan saw him, he knew this man had to be the main antagonist.

And yet, he couldn’t help but curse inwardly.

‘Damn you… pretty boy…’

“Are you jealous of how handsome he is?”

Ethan flinched. The teasing voice came from behind him—Princess Star, her delicate hand half-covering her smile.

“Bullshit! Jealous of him? Never! Pfft… what’s there to be jealous of in some pretty boy?”

Ethan’s temper flared like a cat with its tail stepped on. His shout drew every pair of eyes in the area. Even Lyla, sealed inside her mech, turned to stare at him with a look that could only be described as… strange.

Realizing what he’d just done, Ethan’s face turned an alarming shade of green. He glared at Princess Star like she was the root of all his problems.

“Uh… I was using telepathy just now!” Princess Star said, her tone innocent, almost too innocent.

“You—you… couldn’t you have warned me before doing that?” Ethan sputtered, his voice cracking under the weight of sheer embarrassment.

“Oh…” Princess Star pouted lightly.

“Don’t ‘oh’ me! And stop reading my mind!” Ethan shot back, this time through telepathy, his tone sharp and indignant.

Princess Star only rolled her eyes in response.

Ethan’s little outburst, however, had completely dissolved the tension that had been hanging in the air before the fight.

He coughed, straightened his shoulders, and tried to recover some dignity. “Ahem. Pretty boy— I mean, Alaric Seredin, right? Hand over Amber Zane, now!”

“Hm…? That aura…” Alaric’s brow twitched at the mention of Amber’s name. His eyes locked onto Ethan and the beast beneath him. “So, one is the man I’ve been searching for, and the other… the creature I intended to capture. I hadn’t even started hunting, and yet you walk right into my path. In that case, none of you are leaving.”

Alaric’s tone was calm, but the fury behind it was unmistakable.

Ethan caught the shift instantly and, in that moment, made a quick assumption. Alaric must have sensed Amber’s aura on him—he probably recognized it from when Ethan and Amber had spent two days together at the Flying Dragon Inn. She would still carry traces of his scent, after all.

But Ethan was wrong.

What Alaric recognized wasn’t Ethan’s scent, but the unique aura of the Sacred Body—the very same power that Amber Zane had been born with. Her Sacred Body wasn’t ordinary; she was a living vessel, a vessel fated to empower another. Her entire existence had been meant to complete someone else—the man who would claim her.

Alaric had known this long ago. For years, he had been nurturing her growth, preparing for the day he would claim the fruits of his labour and ascend to the next realm. But in the end, Ethan had taken everything from him.

Twenty years of careful planning, wasted overnight.

How could Alaric not hate him?

Now, seeing Ethan again, that buried fury burst free. His elegant robe billowed as the air around him twisted with killing intent.

Ethan saw the murderous look in Alaric’s eyes. His hand dropped to stroke the fur on Blackie’s head, his body tensing low like a coiled spring.

“Prepare for battle,” Ethan shouted.

“Ethan… Astrid is gone!”

Lyla’s voice cracked through the communicator on Ethan’s wrist.

Ethan froze mid-charge. His instincts flared, and he immediately expanded his Senses, sweeping the battlefield. Sure enough, Astrid’s presence had vanished.

She had been right behind them earlier in her Golden Falcon form. The mist had rolled in, Princess Star had dispelled it, and in the confusion, Astrid must have slipped away unnoticed. Lyla had been the first to realize she was missing.

Ethan’s brows furrowed for a moment, but as his Senses reached farther, his tension melted away. He exhaled and even let a grin tug at his lips.

In the sky behind Alaric’s forces, a cluster of large, unfamiliar birds circled lazily, unbothered by the chaos below. Among them, a flicker of gold flashed like sunlight on water.

There she was—a tiny Golden Falcon, no bigger than a sparrow, darting among the flock. It was the smallest, fastest form of her clan. Ethan’s grin widened.

“I know where she is. Don’t worry,” he said through the comm. “Attack them!”

BANG… BANG… BANG…

Three consecutive shots cracked through the air before he even finished speaking. Victor had already opened fire.

His modified Barrett M82A1—Shatterstar’s heavily upgraded version of the classic sniper rifle—spat three bursts of concentrated energy aimed straight for Alaric’s head.

“Hmph, a petty trick,” Alaric said coldly. His gaze flicked across the battlefield, taking in the mechs surrounding Ethan’s group. “I see… you have ties to the Divine Sea Temple.”

He reached for the sword at his waist, blade with intricate runes etched along its fuller. With a fluid motion, he twirled it once.

CLINK! CLINK! CLINK!

Three crisp sounds rang out as the energy bullets were deflected effortlessly, scattering light across the air like sparks from a forge.

“You all handle the fodder. I’ll take him myself,” Ethan said sharply. He patted Blackie’s massive neck. “Blackie, let’s move!”

“Ethan, he’s strong…” Regis warned from behind.

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing,” Ethan shot back, his voice steady.

Blackie’s jaws curled into a grin. “Relax, boss. The two of us can handle one overgrown peacock.”

“Boss, count me in.”

The deep, calm voice came from behind them. Ormund, who had been silent until now, stepped forward in his human form. In a flash, he leapt up and landed on Blackie’s back, right behind Ethan.

“Huh?” Ethan blinked in surprise.

“Heh… just trying out my new skill,” Ormund said, his expression unreadable. He spread his arms, moving as if to embrace Ethan.

“Whoa, hey, what the hell—” Ethan jerked back, heart pounding. If Ormund hadn’t looked so dead serious, Ethan might’ve kicked him off on reflex. Being hugged by a giant man mid-battle was not his idea of strategy.

But before Ethan could say more, Ormund shouted:

“White Tiger… Armor Manifest!”

HUM…

Ormund’s body shimmered and turned translucent, his form phasing like mist. Then, energy surged outward, wrapping around Ethan like a living force.

CLANK! CLANK! CLANK!

The phantom solidified into gleaming white armor that covered Ethan from head to toe. The plating was pristine and powerful, striped with deep black patterns that glowed faintly. A roaring tiger’s head emerged from his left shoulder, its eyes burning with pale light.

SHING!

Wings of pure white metal unfurled from Ethan’s back, catching the battlefield’s light as they spread wide.

The armor pulsed once, alive with power. Ethan could feel it—Ormund’s strength flowing through him, merging with his own.