Level 1 to Infinity: My Bloodline Is the Ultimate Cheat!-Chapter 405: The Sigil Stirs

Ethan, seething with rage, stormed through the city streets with a full unit of guards in pursuit. From the west side all the way to the heart of the city, he ran like a man possessed. Up ahead loomed the massive inner wall of the city center. Above the arched gate were three words he couldn’t read, but they didn’t need translation—this had to be the City Lord’s manor.

Moments ago, he’d spotted a shifty-eyed old man slipping through that gate. The man radiated the unmistakable aura of a Priest and was flanked by four Transcendent-rank warriors. High-ranking, no doubt. While Ethan didn’t recognize the old man from the West Gate Tower, the four warriors were familiar—they were the commanders of the City Guard.

Chaos erupted behind him. The echo of boots and shouted commands followed his trail.

"Stop him!"

"Don’t let him through!"

"Block the gate!"

The guards posted at the City Lord’s manor spotted the commotion and scrambled to form a defense. But they hadn’t expected Ethan to charge straight at them.

He launched himself off the ground, soaring more than ten meters through the air, and extended his leg mid-flight.

BOOM!

The impact was thunderous. The gate, made from some strange, durable alloy, didn’t break apart—it flew inward whole, crashing through like a battering ram.

"Regis! Uncle Jed! Get your asses out here!" Ethan bellowed as he landed and stormed through the now-ruined entrance.

---

Regis was just about to take a sip of his wine—an indulgent mix of chilled grape juice and strong spirits—when the explosion rattled the room. His hand jerked, and wine splashed across his robes.

"Heh heh," Uncle Jed chuckled, not even trying to hide his amusement. "Told you. Promise the kid your support, then sneak off for a drink? He’s got every reason to be pissed. Once he’s fired up, even a heard of mammoths can’t stop him."

Jed raised his glass in a casual toast toward Hank, the Fire Priest, and took a leisurely sip. Regis flushed, half from embarrassment and half from the creeping realization that Ethan might actually tear the whole manor down.

He hadn’t expected Ethan to return this soon. Sure, he’d promised backup—but reconnecting with Jed, an old friend he hadn’t seen in more than a decade, had derailed that plan. The age gap between them was wide, but in the Sea of Death, strength—not age—defined seniority. Even a child with real power could be hailed as a Master.

And Uncle Jed? Already an apex-level existence.

The second reason Regis had delayed was more complicated. The prophecy. It was finally unfolding. Ethan was the chosen one. The legacy his family had protected for generations could now be passed down. He could shed the burdens of rulership and finally chase the freedom he’d longed for.

More importantly, he could avenge his wife and sons.

"Dana, would you mind heading downstairs for a moment?" he said quietly.

"Of course," she replied, already turning.

BOOM! CRACK! THUD! THUMP!

Four thunderous impacts shook the elevated palace like an earthquake. Glass trembled. Floorboards groaned. Regis, Jed, Hank, and Quinn leapt to their feet and rushed to the edge of the high platform.

Buzz...

Two overwhelming Soul Sense signatures flared up from below. One was instantly familiar: Priest Gorr.

The other... was not.

It was weaker—much weaker—but incredibly focused. Sharper, denser. It radiated authority far beyond its apparent power level.

"It’s Ethan," Uncle Jed muttered before anyone else could react. His tone wasn’t questioning. He knew.

"Impossible..." Hank and Quinn echoed, eyes widening.

"Is this kid even human?" Hank said, spinning toward Jed.

"A Soul Sense Priest... a Star Priest... and that Battle Embodiment..." Quinn murmured, more intrigued than shocked now as he stepped closer to the edge.

Regis remained silent, but inwardly, his thoughts churned. ’If they knew the Star’s descent shattered the Sea of Death’s barrier... if they knew what he really is... their jaws would hit the floor. Ethan... truly, he’s beyond comprehension.’

---

Down below, Ethan’s entrance had been nothing short of a declaration of war. The massive gate he’d kicked in smashed straight into the five figures who’d just entered the manor moments earlier—Priest Gorr and the four commanders of the City Guard.

They hadn’t come for a friendly visit.

Gorr’s son—publicly introduced as his nephew—had been killed. The Central Dominion Guard, led by Julian, had returned the body. Given the long-standing feud between Julian and Gorr Jr., the Priest saw this as murder, plain and simple. He wanted revenge.

But more than that, Gorr had come to seize power.

Nearly three decades ago, after the brutal death of Regis’s wife and both of his sons, Regis had withdrawn from public duties. Priest Gorr and Vice City Lord Lowe had taken over. Over time, Gorr had consolidated power, outmaneuvered Lowe, and even swayed Regis’s loyalists. On paper, he was still the Vice City Lord. In truth, he was Beastfall City’s ruler.

He only needed one thing: the Sigil of the Wild Legion. With it, he could drop the "Vice" and claim his destiny.

After all, hadn’t he and Regis been disciples of the same master? Gorr was the senior disciple—it should have been his right. But the old man had passed the Sigil to Regis instead, leaving Gorr with years of swallowed pride and quiet resentment.

And now, he was being told the Sigil might go not to him, but to some no-name kid?

He’d come to stop that—forcefully, if necessary.

But all that ambition screeched to a halt when a massive gate came flying through the air and nearly took his head off.

The four commanders reacted instantly. "Priest! It’s him! The kid!" the Western Commander yelled, pointing in panic at Ethan. His entire Western Guard had been wiped out earlier. He had nothing left but the armor on his back.

"You insolent brat! How dare you force your way into the City Lord’s—"

SLAP!

Ethan blurred forward. A thunderous slap sent the Northern Commander flying. With a boom, his bulky body smacked into the wall like a watermelon dropped from a roof.

Despite his Transcendent rank, the man had no real combat instinct. Ethan’s slap—deceptively casual and devoid of killing intent—slipped past all his defenses.

"You’re dead meat!" the remaining three roared. But they didn’t move fast enough.

SLAP! THUD! THUMP!

Each one fell in quick succession. One flew into the wall. Another had his head buried in the ground. The last commander got the worst of it—his skull was rammed into a water tank, legs flailing in the air.

Upstairs, those were the exact four impacts Uncle Jed and the others had heard.

Ethan turned, eyes locked on Gorr, hand cocked back for another slap.

But the old Priest was faster.

A wave of immense Soul Sense burst forth. Ethan was blasted off his feet. At the same time, a ghostly figure—a goat-like creature with long, spiraled horns—materialized and charged.

"So strong? A Soul Sense manifestation?" Ethan’s eyes widened in shock.

Without hesitation, he gathered his will and unleashed his own Soul Sense.

ROAR!

A dragon’s roar erupted through the room like a storm unleashed.

Everyone felt it—deep in their bones.