Level 1 to Infinity: My Bloodline Is the Ultimate Cheat - Chapter 679

Chapter 679: The Order Keeper’s Gambit

The young boy’s expression was one of profound, almost sorrowful, benevolence.

“Violation of the natural order, my ass,” scoffed the old man standing beside him, a wine gourd hanging from his belt. “You are the order. Since when do you believe in that crap?”

“But…” the young boy began to protest.

“No ‘buts’,” the old man, none other than Morzan, cut him off. “Going to prattle about cause and effect? He exists outside of cause and effect. You’ve lived longer than I have. Tell me, in all your eons, have you ever known a being from a Super-Realm… that one… to bear a child?”

The youth, caught off guard by Morzan’s bluntness, could only offer a bitter smile and a slow shake of his head.

“Then stop overthinking it,” Morzan said, his own gaze turning distant and somber. “Even without him, when that one arrives, won’t this all just become a barren wasteland anyway?”

He had to admit, despite all his scheming and his efforts to guide Ethan’s growth, he held little real confidence in facing the crisis he knew was coming. The being he feared was simply too powerful. And Ethan remained unaware that the path Morzan had set him on—beyond his training in the game “Ethereal”—and many of the abilities he’d gained, mirrored those of his mother and, as Morzan often hinted, of “that one” himself. Even this power of Consumption, “that one” possessed it too, and by all accounts, his version was far stronger. It all came down to how much Ethan could grow before the confrontation.

“Ah… In that case,” the young boy said, seeming to reach a resolution as he watched Morzan’s pensive face. “We might as well go all in. Burn the boats.”

“Go all in?” Morzan’s eyes widened in understanding. “You mean…?”

“Yes,” the boy affirmed with a firm nod.

“This is…” Morzan was genuinely shocked.

He had expended great effort initially to persuade this being, this Order Keeper who was as ancient as the Desolate Domain itself, to bend the rules—to give Ethan a “backdoor.” Only after spending time with him did Morzan see his true nature. This Order Keeper, who looked like a child, was a wily old man. He had been watching Morzan’s every move on Earth all along. He knew Morzan’s plans ultimately served his own interests, for he too had sensed the impending crisis and had even calculated his own inevitable extinction. Someone trying to change the outcome? He had been giving Morzan the green light from the start.

All those times Morzan had smugly thought the Order Keeper was slumbering… the truth was, those ancient eyes had never looked away. It wasn’t until Ethan’s journey beyond, where he gained the recognition of the Ancestral Dragon—the Fortune Dragon—that the Order Keeper could no longer remain a passive observer. He appeared before Morzan because he knew the Fortune Dragon of Earth had been lost for ages. Its reappearance signaled a potential turning point. The power of the Fortune Dragon was nebulous, something even he, the Order Keeper, couldn’t fully comprehend.

In all his countless years, every individual ever blessed by the Fortune Dragon had existed outside the established order. And Morzan himself, whom the Order Keeper knew full well, had once been favored by it. In the Order Keeper’s eyes, Morzan was something of a slacker, but damn, the wine in his gourd was the real deal. The man’s brewing skills were unparalleled.

The two of them stood there, one impossibly young, the other looking like a withered old leaf, locked in a silent stare-down.

“You’re serious?” Morzan finally breathed out.

“Naturally. Unless you’re afraid he can’t handle it?” the youth retorted.

“But that… that’s something only opened during the Mythic Age…” Morzan’s face, usually so carefree, was now solemn, a flicker of fear in his eyes.

“The one he must face has endured it nine times,” the Order Keeper stated flatly. “You know what that means.”

“I know, I know. I endured it once myself, you know?” Morzan replied, a shiver running down his spine as he recalled what happened when he’d left Earth, his ancestral home.

“Sigh… Can you control the intensity?” Morzan asked quietly.

“That lies beyond my jurisdiction,” the youth shook his head.

“Then why even suggest it?” Morzan said, exasperated.

“I said I can’t control it. I didn’t say I couldn’t open it.” With that, the Order Keeper grabbed Morzan’s sleeve.

Whoosh. The two vanished from the void.

…

Down below, Ethan continued his rampage, completely unaware he was being set up for something monumental. His clothes whipped around him, the White Tiger Armor gleaming brilliantly. He discovered that the energy he was absorbing could be consciously diverted, a portion of it funneling directly into the armor itself—into Ormund.

Ormund’s voice echoed in Ethan’s mind, buzzing with excitement as he reported that his own power was growing from the influx.

Hearing this, Ethan moved faster, his black hair flying, a fierce grin on his face. Where he passed, only drifting ash remained. He was the only one who could truly destroy the puppets. The others could smash the puppet bodies, but the parasitic things inside would always escape. But Ethan, with the Twilight War Spear in hand, was the embodiment of finality. A single touch from him, and a creature’s energy, life force, and even soul essence were utterly consumed.

At this moment, Ethan soaring through the air, possessed an aura that seemed to look down on all living things, domineering and absolute. The other mutants had long since fled in terror, scattering in a panic. In the blink of an eye, only the mindless, annoying puppets remained.

It was then that Ethan, strolling through the air as if it were solid ground, began moving back toward the ornate pavilions at the island’s center. He had killed his way out, and now he was casually killing his way back in, as nonchalant as a man taking a walk in his own backyard.

“Star, I’ll handle him!” he called out.

The Alaric Avatar, with his bow, was completely useless against the Third Princess. Every time he tried to rush from the high platform to get at Ethan, a massive bubble would materialize in his path. He didn’t dare touch the things; he’d recognized their nature—a glue far more terrifying than any industrial adhesive.

“Okay,” Star replied simply. All the bubbles popped and vanished.

Alaric seized the moment, launching himself from the platform. He shot a deep, wary glance at Star. In his mind, this girl was terrifying. She hadn’t used a single offensive skill, but her defensive bubble technique was utterly, infuriatingly effective.

“Ethan, this one’s the real deal!” Regis’s voice boomed from behind him, just as Ethan prepared to charge toward the descending Alaric.