Level 1 to Infinity: My Bloodline Is the Ultimate Cheat!
Chapter 296 - 296: Into The Arena

Ethan had no idea whether Melinda was being intentional or not, but she'd told Maria to sit on the other side. Then, after taking a seat herself, she glanced at the chair, then back at Ethan.

Her look said it all: Well? Aren't you going to sit?

A jolt shot through him under her gaze. He was about to suggest to Markham, "Let's find somewhere else for the four of us!" But before the words could leave his mouth, a massive figure suddenly flashed past him.

The enormous body landed with a loud creak as it sank into the chair—just like that, someone had claimed the seat meant for Ethan.

"I'm exhausted..." the man muttered.

After sitting down, he leaned back, slumping into the chair.

"You..." Melinda's eyes widened. Then, with a blink, her expression settled, tinted with curiosity.

"It's you..."

"It's you..." Ethan echoed her words.

"You know him?"

"You know him?"

They turned to each other, speaking at the same time.

Matriarch Whitmore had also noticed the man. She furrowed her brow, thinking for a moment before speaking—not too quickly:

"Young Kane?"

The seat-stealer was none other than Mr. Kane, the man they had encountered at the foot of the mountain.

Matriarch Whitmore's "Young Kane?" nearly made Ethan laugh out loud. She had just called this hulking man like he was a kid.

"Matriarch Whitmore..." Mr. Kane quickly stood up and bowed formally.

She smiled. "Enough with the fake courtesy. You're just like your father."

Mr. Kane chuckled and sank back down. He truly did look exhausted.

Ethan stood nearby, listening. It was clear now—they were old acquaintances. The three of them started chatting casually, one sentence after another. Seeing that Mr. Kane wasn't including him, Ethan looked up at Markham, Bobby, and Rook. They understood the signal.

Excusing themselves to Matriarch Whitmore, the three quietly withdrew. They wandered around for quite a while but couldn't find a single open seat.

Markham muttered a curse under his breath in frustration.

Finally, with no better option, they returned to where the Whitmore family was seated and stood to the side, waiting for the event to begin. After all, once it started, they'd be heading onstage anyway.

As the clock neared eight, Ethan covered his ears.

Sure enough—

BOOM BOOM BOOM...

Eight thunderous blasts rang out, announcing the start of the Combat Trials.

Ethan snickered as he saw Markham flinch and cover his ears too.

Today, Liam Silverwood was once again the host onstage. Unlike the day before, he didn't waste time. He got straight to the point, announcing the rules for the first elimination round:

Everyone under the age of thirty could participate. There would be eight arenas, and the round would last one hour. The final eight remaining on each arena—a total of sixty-four—would advance.

He concluded with a warning: anyone who felt unprepared should forfeit now. Once in the arena, life and death were not guaranteed. Outside the arena, however, injuries were strictly forbidden, and any violations would have severe consequences.

The moment the rules were announced, the crowd erupted.

Everyone knew how many people had entered the Academic Trials—nearly three thousand. This elimination round would be a chaotic free-for-all. Once it began, the scale would be massive. Accidents, or even deliberate attacks, were inevitable. You could die without even knowing who struck the blow.

Some people began to waver. But even more were itching to give it a try.

Liam Silverwood ended with a final announcement:

"Everyone, get ready. The battle begins at the sound of the cannon."

"Eight of us… let's take one arena together!" Markham said, rubbing his hands eagerly, eyes gleaming.

Ethan, the three Chase siblings, Maria, Bobby, and Rook—counting himself, they were exactly eight.

Even though he and Maria currently had limited combat ability, Markham believed that with Ethan and the others, they could still claim a spot.

"You and Maria can still compete?" Ethan asked, surprised. Hadn't the Noble Eight families already submitted their competitor lists last night?

"Why not? It's not the final eight competition," Markham replied.

Apparently, only the final rankings required official family representation. That was why each family had filled their three slots. Nobody cared too much about the elimination rounds—especially now that independent practitioners could join.

If a Noble Eight family member was eliminated here, well… they were simply too weak. No one would make excuses.

"I see..." Ethan nodded. Eight of them working together—taking over an arena wasn't impossible.

But after hearing Markham's explanation, the pressure began to settle on Ethan's shoulders. He would be carrying the Whitmore family's hopes alone.

BOOM...

As they spoke, a cannon blast roared—signaling the official start of the Combat Trials.

A tidal wave of people surged toward the ten-foot-high arenas. Ethan pushed aside his doubts and looked forward, determination in his eyes.

"Let's... go up too!" he said.

Even Markham, usually laid-back, shed his carefree demeanor. It was his first time joining the Noble Eight families' tournament. Despite his injury, he was determined to give it his all.

Ten years from now, maybe he'd have another shot—but the Whitmore family didn't have the numbers. If they failed to place well, they'd lose their standing. Unlike other families that could compete every tournament cycle, the Whitmores might be shut out.

To keep receiving Energy Cores in off years, they had to secure a higher ranking. This time... it all depended on Ethan.

The Chase siblings, by contrast, were visibly excited. Bobby and Rook remained quiet. Their families weren't counting on them, and they'd only been added to the lineup last minute. They just hoped their Academic Trial scores would be enough to improve their standings.

In past years, only the Noble Eight could participate. Independent practitioners had merely been spectators. Looking at the surging crowd now, it was obvious how fired up the outsiders were.

But while others charged ahead, leaping toward the arenas, Ethan walked calmly.

For some reason, everyone in his group followed his lead.

Their slow, composed approach stood out amid the frenzy. Step by step, they approached. Ethan looked up.

Just when everyone thought he would leap onto the stage—

He turned, walking along the outer edge of the arena toward the back.

Bobby, Rook, the Chase siblings, and the Whitmore siblings looked at each other, confused. But they followed him anyway.

He circled halfway around, finally arriving at the stairs leading to the arena. Only then did he begin to ascend, one step at a time.

The others exchanged helpless smiles. Ethan really never followed the usual script.

While the crowd scrambled and shoved their way up, he took the long way, using the stairs.

Their group's odd behavior caught everyone's attention.

It was... just too bizarre.