Level 1 to Infinity: My Bloodline Is the Ultimate Cheat!-Chapter 902: The Well That Refused the World

Ethan surfaced right behind Blackie, water sliding off his shoulders as he took in the scene ahead of them. Blackie was not moving. He hovered there, completely still, eyes locked on the island at the center of the lake. His expression was focused, serious in a way that felt deeply wrong on him. Blackie was never serious. That alone set off alarms.

"What’s up?" Ethan asked, following his line of sight.

The moment his gaze settled on the lland, that familiar pull stirred again, the same sensation he had felt the instant he stepped into the Extreme South. A strange, inexplicable summons, a wordless call tugging at something deep inside him.

"That thing over there," Blackie said slowly, eyes flickering once, then again. "Something’s calling me."

Ethan’s focus sharpened instantly. "Calling you?"

The Moonfrost Direwolves’ warning surfaced in his mind, unbidden. Before they had left, they had hammered the instruction into him relentlessly: get Blackie to the center of the Forbidden Vale. No matter what.

"You didn’t feel it before?" Ethan asked.

Blackie shook his head. "No. Just now. When I came out of the lake, It feels old and familiar. Like... the same species. And..." His voice dropped. "It feels like a farewell. Like it doesn’t have much time left."

There was real sadness in his eyes, unguarded and raw.

Then he moved.

Blackie blurred across the water toward the island without another word. Ethan shouted for Garm and took off after him. The lake that had once been pitch black was now completely transparent, the water clear enough that the lakebed was visible even at speed. They crossed the distance in seconds and landed on the edge of the island together.

The fog there was thick, dense enough to feel solid, swallowing sound and light alike.

The pull was stronger here. Much stronger. Neither of them stepped forward right away.

Especially Ethan.

The faint sensation he had felt before was gone, replaced by something sharper, something heavy with resentment. This presence was aware. It was hostile. And it was aimed directly at him.

So this was it. What she had taken from him back then.

But the more he thought about it, the less it added up. Logically, whatever lay ahead should have been part of him, a fragment of the same whole. That explained the connection and pull. And yet it had developed awareness. A consciousness. He could tell it hated him and It did not want to return.

That complicated things.

One fact was clear, though. Taking it back was not going to be simple.

It did not matter whether it had its own will now. It was still his. A piece of him. And it would return.

Ethan’s eyes hardened.

Garm landed beside them, silent. Blackie suddenly turned and pointed. "This way."

He started walking into the fog. Ethan followed without speaking. He did not tell Blackie about the pull he himself felt. There was no need. As they moved deeper, a realization struck him.

They were heading in exactly the same direction. The same destination, as if they were aiming for the same thing.

Questions piled up in Ethan’s mind, but nothing tried to stop them. There were no traps, ambushes, or resistance of any kind.

Then Blackie stopped, so did Ethan.

An ancient well stood before them, its stone rim worn smooth by time.

"I have to go down there," Blackie said quietly, peering over the edge.

Ethan nodded without hesitation. He had already reached the same conclusion.

They both leaned over the rim. Garm, still in his massive black dog form, reared up on his hind legs to look down as well.

"Are you two out of your minds?" Garm demanded.

Neither answered. The well was deeply wrong and they could feel it.

They could not see the bottom. Not even close. Their vision might as well have been blind past a certain point. The shaft was narrow, barely shoulder width, a straight vertical plunge into nothingness. There was no way to anchor a rope, even if they had one, which they did not. And even if they did, it would never be long enough.

Blackie swung one leg over the edge. Ethan grabbed his arm. "Me first."

His body was stronger now. If something went wrong down there, he would have a better chance of reacting.

Blackie hesitated, then nodded.

"I’m not going," Garm said flatly. "I’ll keep watch up here, above ground like a sane creature."

Ethan smiled and did not argue. He swung himself over the edge and let go.

Blackie followed immediately after. Garm watched them disappear into the darkness.

Ethan fell, one hundred meters, two hundred... He glanced upward and saw Blackie framed in the circular opening above, about fifty meters behind him. Sunlight streamed down the shaft, illuminating the stone walls.

That was strange.

They had fallen far too long for the light to still be there. Thousands of meters, at least. The light extended downward for perhaps another two hundred meters below Ethan, then stopped abruptly. Beyond that was absolute darkness.

But when he looked up, the opening was still there. Still visible and still the same size.

It seemed physics did not apply here.

Ten thousand meters passed. More. His speed kept increasing, gravity and the pull below stacking on top of each other. Even with his strengthened body, the pressure began to weigh on him like a mountain.

He looked up again.

Blackie was far above now, easily a kilometer away. He must have found a way to slow himself down. The descent was taking a toll on him.

Ethan tried to fly but nothing happened. Whatever ability he had gained earlier was completely suppressed in this shaft.

The walls were smooth, polished to an unnatural degree, with nothing to grab onto. And even if there had been, hitting it at this speed would have torn him apart.

"Bear Form."

Ursar’s Claws.

His hands transformed, four long blades extending from each. He slammed them into the walls.

The sound was deafening, a shriek of metal against stone that echoed endlessly. Pain tore up his arms as the force nearly ripped his shoulders from their sockets.

But he slowed, just a little.

The claws were too sharp. They sliced through the rock instead of catching, carving deep grooves and offering barely enough resistance to bleed off some speed.

He was still falling, just not as fast.

Above him, Blackie was closing the distance. When he drew near, Ethan saw that Blackie’s arms had transformed as well, massive qilin claws extending from his hands, this was he real thing, a true Qilin Arms.

Blackie dug into the walls and shouted down, "Boss, how deep is this place? When do we hit bottom?"

"No idea," Ethan shouted back. "At this rate? Twenty thousand meters at least. Any deeper and we’re heading for the planet’s core."

Ethan scowled as they continued their descent. He was officially very annoyed.