Level 1 to Infinity: My Bloodline Is the Ultimate Cheat!-Chapter 871: No One Survives the Night

Ethan returned to his assigned den and wasted no time pulling out his VR capsule. The metal shell unfolded with a familiar hum, and he slipped inside without hesitation. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to hope he might run into Lyla or the others in Ethereal, even if only to exchange a few words before everything became complicated again.

The system booted up, soft light washing over the interior. But instead of the usual glowing gateway, he was met with something that made him frown.

The "Enter Ethereal World" button was dark.

The only option illuminated was "Arena." Above the inactive Ethereal portal hovered a countdown timer, ticking steadily, marking the time until the servers would come online.

"What the hell? It’s pitch black already," Ethan muttered, irritation creeping into his voice.

He checked the system clock.

4:00 PM.

He stared at it for several long seconds, as if the numbers might rearrange themselves into something more reasonable. Ethereal would not open for another two hours. In August, darkness was supposed to fall around eight in the evening. That was how he remembered it.

"Why is it only four..." he began, then stopped mid-thought as the realization hit him.

He was inside the polar circle.

"The polar circle... damn. Midnight sun. Polar night."

The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. Earth’s poles endured six months of uninterrupted daylight, followed by six months of endless night. When Patriarch Xakier had said, "when it’s light," and instructed him to head to the Vale then, it had not meant later tonight.

It had meant half a year from now.

Ethan exhaled sharply, a low groan escaping him. Six months was an eternity in his current situation. Too many things were already in motion. Waiting was not an option.

He shoved the capsule hatch open and stepped out, dismissing it with a wave of his hand as it compacted and vanished into storage. Then he bolted from the den.

With a quick glance to orient himself, he launched forward. He could not truly fly, not here, but with solid footing and enough force behind him, his leaps were nothing short of monstrous. Snow and ice shattered underfoot as he bounded across the terrain, covering impossible distances in seconds. A handful of thunderous jumps later, he landed once more on the mountain peak where the feast had been held earlier.

The bonfire still smoldered, embers glowing faintly against the creeping darkness. Around it sat seven or eight figures, their silhouettes outlined by firelight.

When Ethan dropped down among them, every head turned.

For a heartbeat, both sides simply stared.

"Young man," Xakier said at last, rising slowly to his feet. His tone carried a hint of confusion, as though Ethan’s presence disrupted an expected order of things. "Shouldn’t you be resting?"

"You all are...?" Ethan let his gaze sweep across the group.

These were not the younger warriors from the feast. These were the elders, the true power behind the clans. The cat-eared patriarch from earlier. The broad-shouldered Cloudfang Tiger elder. Several others whose beast-kin lineage Ethan could not immediately place. Each of them held one of his bottles of clear liquor. Their faces were flushed, their eyes slightly glassy. The official feast might have ended, but this was clearly the real gathering.

Xakier’s expression stiffened with embarrassment. He had ended the feast precisely because he knew this would happen. The elders were notorious drinkers. Clearing out the younger generation had spared them the indignity of being seen bickering over bottles like a pack of mischievous old men.

Ethan’s lips twitched, but he spared him further discomfort.

"You said ’when it’s light.’" His voice turned direct, all humor gone. "Does that mean I’d have to wait six months for the cycle to change?"

Xakier hesitated, then nodded grimly.

"I can’t wait that long," Ethan said plainly. "I’m leaving now."

The words cut through the firelit air like a blade.

"What?" Several elders straightened at once, their earlier lethargy vanishing. "You’d enter the Forbidden Vale during the Night?"

Ethan frowned slightly at their reaction. "Is there that much difference between entering during the Day and the Night?"

"Difference?" The cat-eared elder shook his head so vigorously his ears quivered. "During the Day, the dangers are merely... survivable. During the Night, no one who enters has ever come out alive."

The others chimed in at once, overlapping warnings filling the air. Their earlier drunken ease was gone, replaced by unmistakable tension.

Ethan watched them for a moment, then gave a crooked, knowing smile.

"You’re afraid Blackie will be in danger if he goes with me, aren’t you?"

The fire crackled.

Their protests died instantly.

Uneasy glances passed between them, including Xakier.

"So I’m right," Ethan continued, patience thinning. "Blackie is the key to breaking some kind of seal for you. That’s why you’re so nervous."

Silence reigned, then their widened eyes.

They stared at him as if he had reached into their chests and pulled out a secret none of them had spoken aloud.

"Well?" Ethan said. "Are you going to keep staring at me, or are you going to explain?"

"I..." Xakier began, rubbing his brow. "I will explain."

"Explain what?" another voice cut in, deep and edged with restrained irritation. "You’ve never been inside."

It was the Cloudfang Tiger elder.

He appeared younger than the others, but when he spoke, the shift in atmosphere was immediate. Even Xakier fell silent. Authority radiated from him, not loud, but unquestioned.

To Ethan’s mild surprise, the other elders suddenly looked... excited.

They dragged over small stools, sat down in a semicircle, reopened their bottles, and produced snacks as though settling in for entertainment.

"Three hundred years," the cat-eared elder muttered with glee. "We asked him for three hundred years, and he never told us a word. Finally, we get to hear it."

The Cloudfang elder shot him a sharp look before releasing a long, heavy sigh.

"Three hundred years ago," he began, voice steady, "I was not clan head. I was young. Arrogant. I believed there was nothing in this world that could truly threaten me."

He gestured toward the cat-eared elder.

"Nightclaw and I were consumed by curiosity. So we did what fools with power often do. We snuck into the Forbidden Vale."

The fire popped softly as he continued, and for the first time that night, not a single elder interrupted.

...

An hour later, two dark figures streaked across an endless white expanse. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

"Boss, where are we going?" Blackie asked, keeping pace just behind Ethan in humanoid form, his breath barely visible in the freezing air.

They were not flying.

They ran.

Their feet skimmed across the snow’s surface, light but deliberate, following the Cloudfang elder’s strict warning. No flying. No shortcuts.

Ethan focused on the faint pull deep within his chest, that subtle but persistent tug on his soul. It aligned perfectly with the direction the elder had described. Whatever was calling him, it was ahead.

"The Forbidden Vale of the Sacred South," Ethan replied, his voice calm but firm. "Don’t touch anything. Don’t wander off. You follow my lead exactly."

Blackie flashed his usual careless grin. "Sure. You’re the boss."

Ethan did not return the smile.

The Cloudfang elder’s story still echoed in his mind, vivid and unsettling. The place he had described made the Sea of Death seem almost harmless by comparison. Entering during the Day offered a slim chance at survival, one in ten at best. Entering during the Night was not considered bravery. It was suicide.

And yet here they were.

As they advanced, the terrain shifted. The flat expanse gave way to jagged rises, and soon they stood before a towering ice peak that loomed into the darkened sky.

Without hesitation, Ethan began climbing.

His fingers sank into the frozen surface, carving holds into the ice. Blackie followed close behind, claws digging deep for purchase as they scaled thousands of vertical meters.

"Boss," Blackie called out after a while, voice echoing faintly against the mountain face, "can’t we just fly up?"

Ethan did not slow.

According to the Cloudfang elder, the Vale lay beyond this mountain range. Flying over it would accomplish nothing. You would see only endless white, reach nowhere, and eventually find yourself exactly where you started, as though the world had quietly folded in on itself.

The only path into the Forbidden Vale was to cross the mountains on foot.

Step by step, no shortcuts.