Level 1 to Infinity: My Bloodline Is the Ultimate Cheat!-Chapter 849: Who’s Next Steps Forward

The arena was dead silent, the kind of silence that pressed against the ears and made even breathing feel loud. Ethan stood alone at its center, relaxed but immovable, his presence filling the space far more completely than his size should have allowed. His three-word question, "Who’s next?", lingered in the air like something solid, heavy enough to settle onto the chest of every spectator and dare them to answer.

Up in the stands, the Feral Druid who had leapt to his feet earlier was still standing, though now his posture had gone rigid. He muttered under his breath, eyes wide and unfocused, replaying what he had just seen again and again. "Wild Charge... used like that? The timing has to be perfect. You have to hit the exact millisecond their skill commits, when they can’t cancel or counter." His voice shook with disbelief. "I thought I was strong. I thought I just needed better gear. But compared to Druid God..." His words faded out, replaced by silence, and then something sharper flared behind his eyes. Determination. "I’ll get stronger."

He did not stay to watch what came next. Without another glance at the arena, his avatar vanished from the stands as he logged out, already chasing a new goal. Ethan never noticed. He would never know that a casual three-second demonstration had just reshaped the ambition of a future legend in the Feral Druid world.

Two full minutes passed with no movement. No challengers descended from the stands, no bold volunteers answered the unspoken challenge. The silence began to feel less tense and more awkward. Ethan’s interest dulled, and he exhaled softly, already preparing to close the arena and return to the main servers of Ethereal.

Then a familiar sound chimed.

[Ding! Skyblade has entered the arena!]

"Huh?" Ethan looked up.

A wooden cask flew down from the spectator stands and hit the sand with a heavy thump, rolling once before coming to a stop. A heartbeat later, a figure followed it. Leo flipped through the air with easy confidence, a long staff balanced across his shoulder, and landed neatly atop the barrel as if it had been placed there just for him.

"Hey, boss," he called out, grinning broadly. "Mind if I give it a go?"

Ethan laughed despite himself. "Everything settled on your end?"

He had not seen Leo since returning. The moment Ethan left Ascension Isle, Leo had departed with Celeste, called away by an urgent summons from the Ninth Division.

"After your little... demonstration," Leo said, his grin turning crooked, "everyone suddenly learned how to behave." He did not need to explain. The broadcast, the mountain of thirteen thousand heads, and the message it sent were still fresh in everyone’s mind. "The rest is just paperwork. She should be fine."

The ’she’ was Celeste. The Ninth Division was overwhelmed, with lines of newly awakened Energy Users wrapping around outposts as people rushed to register. The operatives were exhausted, wary, and more than a little shaken. Yet the long shadow of Ethan’s purge kept things orderly. It was crude, brutal coercion, and it was working.

Ethan nodded once. "Good. Let’s do it. I haven’t fought your new class yet. Should be good practice."

Leo’s eyes lit up. "Heh. You’re in for a treat, boss. This class is something else."

"Less talking," Ethan said dryly. "Get ready."

Leo chuckled and tapped the Ready button. The duel countdown began, and the moment his status updated, the spectator stands exploded with noise.

"It’s Skyblade!" "An internal duel!" "I’m so glad I logged in early!" "This is gonna be good!" "He’s not a Shield Tank anymore, right?" "Yeah, I heard he unlocked Monk through a hidden quest." "Anyone else switch yet?" "Not me. Still deciding." "Same. Let’s see how it actually plays."

Curiosity buzzed through the crowd. Plenty of players were interested, but few wanted to commit to a new class without proof. Nobody wanted to end up trapped in something overly niche or painfully difficult, the way Druid was often rumored to be. Leo’s match was more than entertainment. It was a live demonstration.

Inside the arena, Ethan was just as curious. Even in his previous life, he had never fought a Brewmaster Monk. He stayed alert, ready to dissect every movement.

The countdown ended.

Ethan shifted smoothly into Bear Form, his body expanding and muscles thickening beneath dark fur, but he did not charge. He held his ground, deliberately giving Leo the initiative. He wanted to see how the class opened a fight.

Leo did not disappoint. Energy Burst flared beneath his feet as he shot forward, momentum carrying him low and fast. Before closing the distance, he hurled the wooden cask ahead of him. The arc was slow and obvious, a clear area-of-effect skill. Keg Toss. Ethan sidestepped casually, moving just outside the marked impact zone without breaking rhythm.

That was when the staff came screaming toward his ribs.

The keg had been a screen. Leo had used it to block Ethan’s line of sight, predicted the dodge, and then burned a second charge of Energy Burst to close the gap in an instant. The staff strike followed immediately, sharp and precise, aimed straight at Ethan’s flank.

Ethan felt a flicker of approval. Good mobility. Good instincts. This class fit Leo far better than anything he had used before. Leo had always been aggressive and impulsive, a brawler at heart. The old Shield Tank role had forced him into patience and restraint that never sat right with him, and even Berserker lacked the agility and flow he craved. In real life, Leo favored overwhelming offense at close range, pressing the attack without hesitation.

Monk suited him perfectly, combining speed, heavy strikes, and deceptive durability, along with the self-healing Ethan had glimpsed earlier. It was a class meant for staying in the fight, trading blows head-on instead of hiding behind a shield or waiting in the shadows.

There was something else, too. In the fluid arc of the staff, in the subtle footwork beneath the attack, Ethan saw traces of Uncle Jed’s influence. The principles of spear and staff work overlapped more than most people realized. Leo must have picked up a few lessons while Ethan was away.

The staff was about to connect with Ethan’s bear-form torso. Unlike most Druids, his Bear Form stood fully upright, making his midsection a higher but still valid target.

Leo’s grin stretched wider. The feint, the burst of speed, the clean follow-up. It had all been for this. Just one solid hit on the boss. One clean strike was enough for bragging rights.

Then his eyes met Ethan’s.

There was no surprise there. No concern.

Only a slow, knowing, unmistakably predatory smirk.