Level 1 to Infinity: My Bloodline Is the Ultimate Cheat - Chapter 719

Chapter 719: Late-Game Powerhouses
Ten minutes later, Ethan scanned the assembled crowd, his eyes picking out familiar faces.

There was Heaven’s Dawn; Kiara Quinn in the real world—who he hadn’t seen logged in for a while.

Then his gaze landed on the three Chase siblings, who had, true to form, gotten three of the most… unique specializations in the game. At least their power-leveling was done, and their gear was no longer a complete embarrassment.

A Weapon Master, a Discipline Priest, and a Fire Mage.

Leeroy, the eldest, was the Weapon Master. He’d upgraded his gear into a respectable set of plate, and the massive two-handed greatsword on his back looked like it could cleave a man in half. The spec was a rare sight in Ethereal. While other classes used two-handers, like a Paladin’s Judicator path, they relied on magic. The Weapon Master was all about raw, physical commitment. Every swing was slow, deliberate, and punishing. Their strength bonuses could outclass a dedicated tank, and their area-of-effect abilities weren’t flurries—they were demolition work.

Take the warrior’s signature Blade Storm. When a Berserker spun up, they were a blender of steel, dangerous but interruptible. When a Weapon Master started spinning, it was a force of nature. You didn’t try to block it; you got the hell out of the way. The only counterplay was to stop them before they got started.

The second brother, Ryan, had gotten Fire Mage. It wasn’t a weak spec, but it was the undisputed king of long cast times. In the early game, it was a painful slog. These two brothers had effectively gotten the slowest melee and the slowest caster specs in the game.

But a max-level Fire Mage was a walking artillery piece. Their spells hit with apocalyptic force, dwarfing the damage of Frost or Arcane. The universal rule for facing one was simple: never let them finish a cast. A single [Inferno Blast] could vaporize a same-level tank who wasn’t specifically geared for it. Their [Flamestrike]—the spell Ethan had used scrolls of to power-level—was a nightmare: huge area, brutal initial damage, a nasty damage-over-time effect, and an armor-shredding component.

In short, both specs were clunky to play solo. But in a coordinated group? They were absolute gold.

Yet, the most unconventional buold of the three belonged to Evelyn, the Discipline Priest. While her brothers’ specs were late-game powerhouses with rough early games, Discipline was niche at every stage.

It wasn’t weak. In skilled hands, it was monstrous. It was widely considered the premier PVP healing spec. Its problem in PVE was its design: Discipline Priests had almost no direct heals. Their toolkit was almost entirely composed of damage-absorbing shields. This required insane foresight. A good Disc Priest didn’t react to damage; they predicted it. They had to watch the entire raid, identify who was about to get hit a second before it happened, and land a shield. A misjudgment, a shield wasted on someone who took no damage, was a catastrophic mana drain.

In PVP, it was a different beast. A Discipline Priest paired with any competent damage-dealer could feel utterly unkillable. They were always the first target, but they were also notoriously hard to take down. They received huge bonuses to shielding themselves, making them as durable as some tanks. And since most of their shields were instant casts, there was no cast bar to interrupt. Trying to focus one down was like trying to chew through a brick wall.

Ethan saw the Chase siblings but didn’t go over. He’d just fought alongside them in the real world a few hours ago; small talk felt redundant.

He did, however, notice Meatball practically vibrating with excitement, clearly looking for an opening to approach. Ethan pointedly ignored him. He knew exactly what the guy was after: another shot at his mech. Since Meatball’s memory hadn’t been wiped last time, he remembered the whole thing. Ethan wasn’t about to open that door. A mech wasn’t a toy; unless the guy was planning on becoming his permanent shadow, it wasn’t happening.

“Ethan, what’s the problem?” Lyla asked as she walked over. Seeing a gathering this size meant something big was going down, and she was practically buzzing.

“Gearing up for the expansion,” Ethan said, not hiding the broad goal but keeping the specific play to himself.

The final headcount came in two hundred over his request. Twelve hundred players now filled the hall.

Looking them over, a surge of pride washed over him. A quick scan of the raid interface showed name after name from the lists he’d written—the prodigies, the future stars, the legendary players from his past life that he’d tasked Leo and the others with recruiting.

Naturally, he’d been selective. He’d weeded out the ones known for toxic attitudes and had even created a blacklist for Renegade Alliance, filled with names of those who had made his previous life miserable, along with the most notoriously awful players from the server.

As his eyes drifted down the roster, one name in particular made him pause.

Leafshade.

“Huh. Leafshade? As in, the Leafshade? Leader of the Leaf Guild?” Ethan murmured, more to himself than anyone.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Victor said from beside him. “The guy’s the real deal. Celia had to work some serious magic to recruit him. Rumor was he was about to quit the game for good.”

Ethan nodded. In his past life, the Leaf Guild had been torn apart from the inside, betrayed by his own lieutenant. Leafshade had just logged off and never came back. The man was genuinely skilled, with near-clairvoyant raid awareness. In the early days of the Northern Frontier, his guild had snagged the server-first kills on most of the Master-tier dungeons.

This time around, Ethan’s foreknowledge had let Renegade Alliance eclipse the Leaf Guild’s progress. But in doing so, he’d also changed Leafshade’s fate. He hadn’t quit. He’d joined up. And the team he was leading now was already giving Leo’s and the other officers’ flagship squads—squads lavished with the best gear and levels—a serious run for their money.

Hearing Victor’s confirmation, an old idea, one he’d had when he first logged into Ethereal in this new life, clicked firmly back into place.

‘With Leafshade here… maybe it’s time to finally put that plan into motion.’