Level 1 to Infinity: My Bloodline Is the Ultimate Cheat!
Chapter 289 - 289: The Obsidian Ridgeback's Wrath

The Obsidian Ridgeback, wounded and weakened, lay vulnerable—its massive frame shuddering with each labored breath.

A head-on skull bash from such a beast would be manageable for a main tank, but Ethan already knew Apex Predators Guild was about to suffer catastrophic losses.

The reason?

This creature shouldn't have possessed Dragon's Breath—a high-tier ability capable of incinerating anything caught in its path. Worse, draconic beings loved to swing their heads mid-exhalation, turning their lethal exhalation into a sweeping arc of annihilation.

Anyone caught in that frontal cone without an escape plan might as well start booking their trip back to the graveyard.

Still, the rewards made the risk worth it.

If Ethan had stumbled upon a level 60 draconic entity like this back in the Northern Frontier Region—injured or not—he would've mobilized Renegade Alliance's entire force, all fifty thousand players, without hesitation.

Because one rule held true in Ethereal:

Draconic kills always dropped Dark Gold gear, often far beyond the creature's own level.

This Obsidian Ridgeback wouldn't just yield standard loot—it would cough up a level 90 Dark Gold item.

Of course, "level 90" referred to the attribute requirements for equipping it. A min-maxed player stacking passive stat boosts, or someone who'd devoured every permanent attribute item from hidden quests, could wear high-tier gear far earlier than intended.

As Ethan assessed the Ridgeback's condition, a rustling echoed behind him.

He pressed flat against the cavern wall, slipping deeper into the vast, open chamber.

Right on cue, Apex Predators' forces poured into the passage.

Thankfully, the cavern was enormous—otherwise, moving this many players through would've taken ages.

It was already 6 PM. Ethereal's servers would shut down in two hours, and Ethan had to log out early. The Noble Eight Lineages' Decennial Ranking Tournament started at 8.

The Ridgeback had less than 17% health left.

"Hurry the hell up!"

Apex Predators clearly felt the pressure.

The moment they flooded in, they fanned out—warriors forming ranks, casters planting their staves into the stone.

The beast, roused by the intrusion, let out a guttural snarl, its massive head swaying as it glared at the ant-like figures invading its den.

But it didn't attack.

Not immediately.

Injured, exhausted—it relied on intimidation, hoping to drive them back with sheer presence.

Under normal circumstances, the first trespasser would've been reduced to paste.

"Attack—!"

The threat failed.

GapInDefense, Apex Predators' guild leader, barked the order.

"Kill it!" Melee fighters surged forward behind berserker shield tanks, while ranged units anchored themselves, spells crackling to life.

The cavern thrummed with volatile magic. Yet the first strikes to land weren't spells—they were arrows.

A hail of projectiles rained down, clattering harmlessly off the Ridgeback's armored hide.

Ting-ting-ting!

Not a single point of damage. Not even a scratch.

A flurry of MISS indicators floated up like mocking snowflakes.

Ethan, still stealthed, muttered a curse and bolted sideways.

"You idiots—who told you to engage early? And aim for its wounds, not its damn scales!" GapInDefense roared from the rear.

Before his voice even faded—

ROOOOAR—!

The Ridgeback's head snapped up, jaws parting.

A sickly, ochre glow built between its teeth, piercing the dim cavern with an eerie radiance.

Ethan was already moving. He knew what came next.

The Obsidian Ridgeback's massive neck snapped downward like a collapsing tower, and the cavern trembled as a searing beam of molten earth erupted from its maw.

Even in its prone position, the beast stood taller than two-story buildings—its aim fixed mercilessly upon Apex Predators' hunter contingent.

"RUN—HUNTERS, MOVE NOW!"

MelancholyEgg had already been screaming the moment the Ridgeback's head reared back. He was the unluckiest of them all, stationed directly in the line of fire.

BOOOOM—!

The beam carved through stone and flesh alike, turning the cavern floor into a smoldering trench. Ethan, who had been lurking nearby moments earlier, had already slipped to the side, his instincts screaming at him to flee before the first spark ignited. The hunters weren't so fortunate.

Before their arrows could even nock, before their feet could find purchase, four thousand hunters vanished in an instant.

Gone. Erased in a single, catastrophic exhale.

Only a handful—those who had sprinted like hell the second MelancholyEgg shouted—managed to escape the devastation.

Ethan could only stare, his breath catching in his throat.

'This… is the power of a draconic entity?'

And this was just a level 60 Ridgeback—wounded, weakened, barely clinging to life. Yet one breath had obliterated an entire battalion.

The moment GapInDefense had ordered his hunters to aim for its wounds, Ethan knew Apex Predators had no idea what they were dealing with.

Draconic creatures, when not immediately threatened, defaulted to their most devastating ability: their breath.

Telling hunters to focus fire on its injuries? Amateurish. Suicidal.

But as the smoke cleared, Ethan noticed something else—the Ridgeback's attack had been cut short.

It hadn't unleashed the full force of its breath. If it had, the casualties would've been far worse.

And now, instead of pressing the assault, the beast remained motionless—still prone, still angry, but refusing to rise.

That was the most baffling part.

A Ridgeback's deadliest weapon wasn't its breath—it was its charge.

Once it built momentum, nothing could stop it. The earth itself would tremble, and anything foolish enough to stand in its path would be reduced to pulp beneath its gargantuan, horned skull.

Yet here it was, ignoring its greatest strength.

'Is it so badly injured it can't even stand?'

If so… Apex Predators might actually pull this off.

A slow grin spread across Ethan's face.

Then again… who's to say they'll be the ones walking away with the spoils?

The Ridgeback's strange behavior renewed his confidence. If he played this right, he could snatch his prize and vanish before the clock ran out. Otherwise, he'd have no choice but to log off early for the Decennial Tournament.

THUD—!

Three thousand berserker shield warriors crashed into the Ridgeback's flanks, their massive tower shields slamming against its hide with enough force to make the beast sway.

ROOOAR—!

It bellowed in fury, but its grounded position left it vulnerable. Instead of rising, it thrashed—rolling its bulk, swiping with its claws, lashing out with its spiked tail.

The first wave of warriors who reached its hindquarters learned the hard way.

WHAM—!

The tail strike sent them flying like ragdolls.

Those with weaker gear died instantly, their bodies crumpling against the cavern walls. The better-equipped survivors barely clung to life, their health bars flickering red.

Unfazed, they healed up and charged again.

WHAM—!

Another tail swipe. Another wave of bodies hurled through the air.

GapInDefense, still positioned at the Ridgeback's front, had no idea what was happening behind it.

By the third failed assault, someone finally screamed into guild chat:

"Boss! you can't tank its back! the tail knocks you back every time!"

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