Level 1 to Infinity: My Bloodline Is the Ultimate Cheat!-Chapter 345: The Desert’s Embrace

As the figure, spear shouldered, strode toward him, Ethan’s mind echoed with something he had read, words once spoken by a famous historical General from ancient times.

A man, a spear, a steed—dominating the battlefield. Breaking through enemy lines, relying solely on unwavering loyalty.

A commander’s duty: to serve with utmost devotion. Alone, spear in hand, he cuts through the siege, his fierce spirit chilling the enemy’s heart.

Where does the soul return? He asks the heavens, two, three times.

Though he had no steed, nor was he a general, that aura—that presence—reminded him of a man unyielding against a thousand foes.

Ethan stood there, stunned.

The figure approaching from the opposite side looked equally startled. Ethan was positioned on a rise, with what looked like a sand dune separating them. From a distance, the man had assumed Ethan was simply sitting on the dune. But as he drew closer and crested the slope, his eyes widened in disbelief.

Ethan wasn’t sitting on sand. He was perched atop a mountain of dead Deathstalker Scorpions.

By sight alone, there had to be at least four or five hundred scorpion carcasses piled there. So much food—enough to sustain them for months. If only they could take it all back, maybe they wouldn’t have needed to flee and seek refuge with the larger tribes.

But transporting that many scorpions was impossible.

"Brother, catch the spear!" the man called, raising it to throw.

"No, no!" Ethan quickly waved both hands. He could barely stay upright, let alone catch anything.

Uncle Jed—his face weathered but eyes bright—burst out laughing. "Brother, you’re incredible! I bet those who were escorting you weren’t eaten by scorpions. More likely, you took care of them yourself!" Even now, he still believed Ethan was some kind of exile.

"Heh heh." Ethan chuckled weakly.

"Those scorpions were already fleeing. Why were you still chasing them so relentlessly?" Uncle Jed asked, shaking his head. He’d seen Ethan tossing his spear earlier but hadn’t understood why he’d kept after the retreating creatures.

Ethan sighed. "I wasn’t chasing them. I was just too tired to stand up."

Uncle Jed clicked his tongue. "You’ve only just arrived in the Sea of Death. You don’t know what matters most here." Seeing Ethan’s puzzled look, he continued, "First is water. Second is food."

"Oh!" Ethan nodded, as if he’d learned something profound. In truth, ever since he discovered he could access his Mindscape in this place, neither food nor water had worried him. Before coming to the Whitmore family territory, he’d swept through MapleMart’s store, filling his spatial storage with enough supplies to last over a decade.

Jed’s gaze lingered on the mountain of scorpions, an almost desperate longing in his eyes. Then he turned, squinting at Ethan, and asked, "Brother...do you have spatial storage?"

Ethan froze for a moment, then realized he’d slipped up. He hadn’t been carrying a weapon before, yet had suddenly produced one. Of course the man would be suspicious. There was no point denying it, so he simply nodded.

Excitement flickered across Uncle Jed’s face. "What’s your name, Brother? My surname’s Jed. Everyone calls me Uncle Jed."

"Ethan," he replied. Just as he was about to nod toward the scorpion carcasses in agreement, the sky above them dimmed again. Of the eight suns remaining, only seven still hung overhead.

Uncle Jed looked up, then suddenly grabbed Ethan’s arm. He pressed the spear into Ethan’s hand and said, "We have to hurry. If we don’t move now, we won’t make it in time."

Confused, Ethan took the spear. At his touch, it shrank into a streak of white light that vanished between his brows.

"The Sea of Death is most dangerous at night," Jed warned. "We have to reach the next safe point before dark!"

---

[Ding... System Notification: Side Quest [Deathstalker Scorpion] completed.]

As Ethan recalled the Twilight War Spear, the system message appeared. But there was no reward. He scowled.

’What a piece of junk. Everything’s been weird since I got here. Even the quests don’t give rewards anymore. At least give me some experience...’

But he had no time to dwell on it. Jed was already hauling him up and pressing a water skin into his hands.

"I’ve got water—" Ethan began.

"Drink it. It’ll restore your stamina," Jed interrupted.

Ethan hesitated, then sniffed. A fragrant aroma drifted up. His eyes lit up, and he tilted his head back, taking a large gulp.

It hit him instantly—spicy on the tongue, bitter going down... and a horrible fishy stench that blasted into his nose like a punch.

"Ugh..." He gagged and opened his mouth to spit it out.

What the hell was this? It smelled delicious but tasted like death!

Before he could react, Jed slapped a hand over his mouth.

Ethan tensed. He was completely drained. In this state, he was no match for Jed. The man clamped his nose, forcing him to swallow.

"Glurk..." Ethan gulped the foul liquid and staggered back, furious.

"You son of a—!" he snarled, lunging forward. He triggered his Heavy Strike skill and threw a punch.

Jed’s eyes narrowed. He circled his arms and deflected the blow with a smooth, practiced motion, stepping around Ethan and stopping behind him without retaliating.

Ethan froze mid-turn.

’He deflected my skill with just that?’ His arms trembled slightly.

This guy wasn’t just good with a spear—his hand-to-hand combat was top-notch. He had completely underestimated him.

He checked his stamina. Not full, but halfway there. Clearly that weird liquid had worked.

Ethan looked down at the water skin still in his hand. He brought it back to his lips.

"Hey! Hey, hey—!" Jed lunged to stop him, but it was too late. Ethan had already gulped down two more mouthfuls.

He swallowed hard, resisting the urge to vomit.

"Uncle Jed," he said, panting. "What the hell is this stuff?"

Jed groaned, holding the half-empty skin like it was his last gold coin. "It’s good stuff, alright... and now it’s a total loss."

Ethan grinned, then activated his Soul Sense. One by one, he began collecting the scorpion carcasses into his Mindscape. There were just too many.

He’d barely gathered half when the sky dimmed again.

"No time!" Jed shouted. Still looking pained, he dragged Ethan and took off running.

---

They joined up with a group of thirty-some people.

Ethan spotted them lugging dismembered scorpion limbs and stingers. He stepped forward to help—but Jed stopped him with a firm hand and shook his head.

That’s when Ethan realized: Jed didn’t want the others to see what he could do.

He scoffed at himself. He was still too naïve...

He joined the group silently, moving as the sky turned a sickly yellow. The heat of the desert faded as the final sun dropped lower on the horizon.

Eventually, they caught up with the group that had fled earlier.

Along the way, Ethan learned their story.

They had once been a small tribe, now forced to migrate due to circumstances beyond their control. Their only hope was to find a larger tribe willing to take them in.

In this Sea of Death, every so-called "tribe" was made up of exiles or their descendants.

Dot—the little girl—and even her father had been born here.

But her father... hadn’t made it. He’d been struck down by a scorpion’s tail during the first wave. He died in the desert.

When the two groups reunited, relief quickly gave way to grief. Eight people had died. Over a dozen were injured. One man had lost his right arm to a scorpion claw and was now permanently disabled.

Still, seeing three full scorpion carcasses dragged back gave the survivors something to hold onto.

Here, human life was cheap.

Food and water mattered more than tears.

Ethan watched Dot and her mother hurrying forward, both quietly crying. He walked up beside them and discreetly handed the girl a water bottle.

Dot snatched it from his hand and clutched it tightly to her chest.

Ethan blinked.

’Hey... I’m giving it to you. You could at least say thanks. That’s seriously rude...’

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