Level 1 to Infinity: My Bloodline Is the Ultimate Cheat!

A milky-white chain materialized around Slashblade, coiling like a serpent. At the same time, a glowing white orb formed at the tip of his staff, resembling the harmless Radiant Illumination spell. With a flick of his wrist, he launched the orb toward Marcus Skeiner.

The projectile flew at incredible speed, tracing a perfect arc through the air before striking Marcus. Instantly, chains identical to those around Slashblade wrapped around Marcus's body.

Ding…

[System Notification: You have been bound by Holy Chains. You cannot move more than 150 meters away from the caster. All teleportation skills and items are disabled. The effect will only be lifted upon the death of one party.]

Marcus, who had been organizing his troops for a counterattack, froze at the notification. What kind of skill is this? He had never heard of it before.

Holy Chains was an exceptionally rare skill for the Priest class. Even in the late game, very few Priests ever learned it. The skill locked down all of the target's teleportation abilities and items, including Teleportation Stones, and restricted their movement to a 150-meter radius around the caster. Once cast, even the Priest couldn't undo the effect—it would only disappear when one of the two parties died.

The problem was, Priests were healers with almost no offensive capabilities. If a Priest used this skill, there was a 99% chance they'd be the ones to die. Additionally, the skill's targeting orb would bind the first enemy it touched, making it nearly impossible to aim accurately in large-scale battles.

But Slashblade wasn't just any Priest. In real life, he was a top-tier sniper. For him, the skill's limitations were trivial. He could calculate trajectories and hit moving targets with pinpoint accuracy. The fact that the skill's visual effect resembled Radiant Illumination, a harmless spell that most players ignored unless they were stealthed, made it even easier for him to land the shot.

Marcus, who had been watching Slashblade cast the spell, hadn't thought much of it when he saw the glowing orb. By the time he realized what was happening, it was too late.

"Rear guard, switch to the front! Fall back into Meatball's spell radius!" Slashblade shouted.

The twenty-nine members of Renegade Alliance immediately halted their advance and turned around, charging back toward the dark green magic clouds of Apocalypse.

Marcus, who had just escaped the spell's area of effect, suddenly felt his body stiffen. It was as if an invisible rope had yanked him backward, pulling him back toward the deadly magic. Holy Chains had one small mercy for the caster: it allowed them to forcibly drag their target within the 150-meter range.

"Kill that Warlock!" Marcus yelled, his body moving against his will as he was pulled back into the Apocalypse zone. Taking down Slashblade was impossible—he was surrounded by over twenty elite players. The only option was to target Meatball and try to interrupt his spell.

But Meatball had been standing on a hilltop for quite some time, and Marcus's troops had been too busy running to notice him.

Marcus couldn't believe it. His own guild members were so clueless that without direct orders, they were completely useless. No one had even thought to interrupt Meatball's spell. Are they brain-dead? he fumed. There were times when he seriously considered stepping down as guild leader. It was exhausting.

He couldn't help but compare his situation to Renegade Alliance. Their guild leader was practically a ghost, rarely seen or heard from, yet everything ran smoothly. Meanwhile, Marcus was stuck micromanaging every little detail, constantly stressed and overworked.

'Why did I even want this position in the first place? he wondered, regretting his decision to fight for control of Blade Syndicate.'

When Marcus shouted for his guild to attack Meatball, the players finally sprang into action. They glanced at Marcus, then at Meatball standing on the distant hilltop, and charged en masse. Two hundred players surged forward, their momentum awe-inspiring.

Meatball glanced at the approaching horde, a smirk playing on his lips. When the fastest players were about fifty meters away, six figures suddenly appeared beside him—three Rogues and three Druids. The moment they materialized, the leading Blade Syndicate players dropped dead, their bodies hitting the ground before they could react.

What followed was a wave of ambushes. Small teams of Druids and Rogues, part of the Enforcement Squad Ethan had tasked Celia with assembling, emerged from the shadows. This highly mobile force consisted of five hundred Druids and five hundred Rogues—a thousand players in total. For this operation, a hundred of each had been stationed near Meatball, totaling two hundred elite fighters. Their mission was simple: protect Meatball so he could complete the casting of his newly acquired special skill, [Apocalypse: Curse].

In the first moments of the clash, Blade Syndicate lost over fifty players to the ambush.

"Apocalypse… Curse!" Meatball raised his staff and brought it down with a decisive motion.

Within the dark green magic clouds, countless bolts of lightning crackled. A pillar of violet-black energy descended from the sky. At that exact moment, Marcus, still bound by Holy Chains, was dragged into the spell's radius. Meanwhile, Slashblade and the rest of Renegade Alliance had already moved beyond the cloud's reach, emerging on the other side.

Marcus looked up at the descending pillar of darkness and thought, 'This is it.' But he wasn't overly panicked. At worst, he'd lose a level. Even if he hadn't been pulled into the Apocalypse zone, he wouldn't have stood a chance against Renegade Alliance's elite team alone. Besides, all four of their top players were here.

What puzzled him was why they had gone to such lengths to drag him into the spell's area. His question was answered almost immediately.

Ding…

[System Notification: You have been hit by [Apocalypse: Curse]. Random curse effect applied: All attributes reduced by 80%, all gains reduced by 80%. Cannot be dispelled. Duration: 15 days.]

Ding…

[System Notification: You have been killed by Meatball. Your corpse has been destroyed. Level -1.]

Marcus's heart sank as he read the curse effect. The attribute reduction was bad enough—he could live with that, since his guild members did most of the grinding for him anyway. But an 80% reduction to all gains? Did that include experience, gold, and loot? If so, he'd be effectively useless for the next fifteen days.

'What kind of broken skill is this?' he thought, horrified.

And since when did Apocalypse have a curse effect?

Standing in the graveyard, Marcus's mind was a whirlwind of confusion and frustration.

"Fall back!" Meatball shouted.

The members of Renegade Alliance disengaged from their opponents and scattered, leaving the remaining Blade Syndicate players standing in stunned silence.