Level 1 to Infinity: My Bloodline Is the Ultimate Cheat!-Chapter 288: Bickering Shadows

Strategos’ expression darkened at the question.

Gritting her teeth, she hissed, "Bro... are you itching for a beating?"

Tearless chuckled. "Oh yes, absolutely. Maybe after we log off, Second Sister can scratch that itch for me?"

The words sent Strategos’ temper flaring, her face flushing with barely contained rage. He turned toward GapInDefense, who merely offered an amused smirk.

"Don’t look at me," GapInDefense said, raising his hands. "I’m not getting involved in your mess."

Nearby, MelancholyEgg stifled a laugh. Neither of them dared comment further.

The four of them had grown up together. Strategos and Tearless had become lovers during university. By the time they graduated, the so-called honeymoon phase had long since evaporated.

Soon, they began secretly flirting with strangers online, each unaware of the other’s escapades.

Then came the fateful day they arranged to meet their respective flings—only to discover, in a twist of cosmic irony, that the man Strategos had been chatting with was Tearless, and the woman Tearless had been wooing turned out to be Strategos.

From that moment on, they broke up and embraced their newfound, chaotic lifestyles.

Now, every encounter between them was a battle—verbal, physical, occasionally even horizontal, only for them to immediately regret it afterward and resume their bickering.

Their toxic dynamic left GapInDefense and MelancholyEgg utterly exasperated.

Right now, as the two began squaring off again, GapInDefense quickly intervened.

"Enough. We’re running out of time," he snapped. "We need to take that thing down before Ethereal’s servers shut down for maintenance.

Second Sister, Third Brother—you’re both ranged DPS. Once its health drops to the threshold, use the consumables immediately. Doesn’t matter who triggers it, just run like hell afterward.

I’ll hold the line with the others and keep it from chasing you."

The "Second Sister" and "Third Brother" he referred to were Strategos and MelancholyEgg.

"Fourth Brother," GapInDefense continued, "you keep leading the Shadowblades and guard the entrance. No one gets in."

Tearless slumped in disappointment.

In his mind, he groaned: Damn Shadowblade class. Can’t charge into team fights, can’t engage in boss fights—just stuck babysitting the perimeter. If I could switch professions, I’d delete this character in a heartbeat.

What they didn’t know was that while GapInDefense was busy strategizing, Ethan had already slipped past their forces.

Alone, he crept into the gaping maw of the cavern.

At the entrance, he activated Stealth, weaving past hundreds of Shadowblades lying in ambush.

These players were all around Level 37 or 38.

Ethan, at Level 46, moved like a ghost among them—utterly undetectable.

Conversely, thanks to the five-level advantage, their own Stealth was useless against him. The moment they drifted too close, their translucent outlines solidified in his vision, no matter how erratically they patrolled.

To him, their haphazard movements were child’s play.

A few deft maneuvers later, and he had bypassed the entire Shadowblade perimeter, slipping deeper into the cavern.

His curiosity burned—what could possibly compel a Level 6 guild to mobilize its entire force?

As he ventured further, the stench of decay thickened in the air.

The walls of the tunnel were unnaturally smooth, as if worn down by something massive over centuries. No branching paths, no deviations—just a single, winding passage leading inexorably forward.

Then, rounding a final bend, Ethan froze.

His breath caught.

Before him stretched a colossal open chamber, vast enough to hold a dozen football fields. Above, the inky void of the night sky loomed through a gaping hole in the ceiling.

The cavern floor glittered—piles upon piles of luminous objects casting an eerie, ambient glow.

And at the center of it all, a monstrous shape lay motionless.

The creature before him was, unmistakably, a gargantuan lizard.

Except—perched awkwardly on its back was a pair of wings, pitifully small compared to its hulking frame.

Ethan’s jaw slackened as he stared.

So, Apex Predators Guild was after a dragon.

This dragon looked hideous, bearing thick-bodied, leathery-wings, all brute force and jagged edges.

Except this thing’s wings were so stunted, so ludicrously undersized, that he couldn’t fathom how it ever took flight. Lyla’s pet dragon, tiny as it was, had wings three times the size of its body.

He activated Advanced Analysis.

Ding...

[Obsidian Ridgeback]

Rank: Rare Boss (Injured/Weakened)

Level: 60

Health: 1,000,000 / 6,000,000

Defense: 3,000 / 30,000

Attack: 6,000 / 60,000

Skills: Tail Whip, Charge, Crush, Cleaving Tempest, Skull Bash, Dragon’s Breath

Tameable: Yes

Description: The Obsidian Ridgeback is a living battering ram—no creature can withstand its frontal assault.

A new line in the analysis caught his eye: Tameable.

Ever since the pet system update, this tag indicated whether a creature could be captured.

No wonder Apex Predators mobilized their entire guild.

A wounded Ridgeback. Suddenly, Ethan felt a pang of envy for players aligned with the Carnage Faction.

Here, there were no borders—just an entire planet swallowed by darkness, teeming with danger and undiscovered secrets.

Countless uncharted zones hid wonders no one could predict.

Unlike the Survivor Faction’s neatly mapped territories, where only a few hidden areas spawned creatures like this.

The Northern Frontier had its own hidden bosses, of course—but nothing players could challenge yet.

In Ethan’s mind, even the weakest draconic entity started at Level 130.

He studied the Ridgeback closely. The stench of rot wafted from gashes along its ribs.

In Ethereal, draconic creatures were always high-tier.

This one might only be Level 60, but uninjured? It would’ve been deadlier than a Level 90 boss.

"Against a dragon, add thirty levels and one rank to its threat."

That was the mantra veteran raid teams lived by.

Somehow, Apex Predators had stumbled upon a Ridgeback crippled this badly.

Ridgebacks were weaker than true dragons, but still monstrous. Their strength lay in their frontal assaults—no tank could survive a direct Skull Bash from one at equal level.

Then there was Tail Whip, a universal draconic skill, which made positioning a nightmare.

Melee fighters couldn’t flank it; standing behind triggered endless tail swipes.

Dragons were worse, with Wing Buffet to knock back anyone on their flanks.

Just Imagine a frontline Obliterated by Skull Bash. By the sides,Wing Buffet launches you into next week. And by the rear, tail Whips came in loop.

At least this Ridgeback’s stunted wings meant no Wing Buffet.