My attributes are increasing infinitely Chapter 505: Meeting the 7th hero

Ethan’s face grew taut as he absorbed the freshly delivered intel. His eyebrows furrowed, and a hint of irritation tinged his voice as he questioned,

"Beyond the five-hundredth level? Wasn’t it established that individuals from either of the Infinite Worlds couldn't surpass that mark?" he inquired, his frustration bordering on palpable.

[They originate not from those two specific worlds, but are instead ascended beings currently inhabiting the lower realm.]

Ethan paused, his gaze sharpening as he contemplated the implications. The answer, rather than clarifying, had only deepened the mystery.

"What precisely do you mean by 'ascended beings'?" he probed, his tone more measured now, though an undeniable curiosity burned beneath the surface.

[Beings who have transcended the thousandth level, achieving a higher plane of existence.]

A slow exhale escaped Ethan’s lips. The explanation was concise, yet it carried a gravitas he wasn't ready to fully confront at this juncture, with more pressing matters occupying his thoughts.

"Let that matter rest for now," he stated dismissively. "Inform me of my family members' whereabouts."

The system readily obliged, and Yumiko began relaying the information. One by one, the precise locations of his kin were divulged.

His parents, alongside Rose, were currently situated in the Upper Realm. Elizabeth, Rose’s mother, remained in the Lower Realm. Rose’s father resided in the God Realm. Zara was absent, and his parents from Earth were also in the God Realm.

Ethan processed this intel in quiet contemplation. A brief silence followed before he shifted gears, his focus pivoting to an entirely different subject.

"Tell me," he instructed, "how might I assume command of this tower?"

[You must reach level one hundred and thirty with your main body. Upon achieving this, you will likely gain the capacity to access the tower's core and undertake the necessary trial for control.]

A soft sigh escaped Ethan. The timeline was less accelerated than he desired, but no swifter path presented itself.

"Then my priority will be locating my family," he resolved.

Without another moment's delay, he exited his chamber. His movements were deliberate and steady, yet underscored by an unmistakable sense of determination. He began to walk, his apparent destination ambiguous to any casual observer.

Elizabeth, though originating from this world, had endured a life far from prosperous. Her existence was confined to a remote, undeveloped planet where the art of cultivation had never taken root. It was a desolate place where physical prowess conferred no social standing, and where frailty invariably invited subjugation.

Ethan dematerialized from his current location in the blink of an eye.

...

Elizabeth stood confronting a group of men, her posture rigid with tension and her countenance etched with distress. The men encircling her sported vulgar smiles, their malicious intent laid bare without a single word spoken.

"This territory is ours now," one declared, his voice laced with menace. "If you wish to continue residing here, you'll need to fork over one million silver. Otherwise, your continued presence will not be tolerated."

Elizabeth’s hands trembled subtly as she clasped them together. Her voice quivered as she attempted to appeal to their reason.

"Please, reconsider this," she implored. "My husband and I have lived here for two decades. This is the sole inheritance he left me before his passing. I have no other refuge. How could I possibly procure such a substantial sum?"

The men exchanged glances, and then one stepped forward, a lewd grin stretching across his features.

"Well now," he drawled, elongating the word, "there are alternative methods for settling a debt."

Instinctively, Elizabeth drew her garments closer, her body stiffening as dread enveloped her. Her throat felt parched, and her breathing grew ragged.

Nearby neighbors had congregated at a distance, observing the unfolding confrontation but refraining from intervening. Their collective silence amplified the profound sense of isolation that washed over Elizabeth.

"Please," she pleaded again, her voice now a mere whisper. "Grant me some time. I assure you, I will find a way to raise the funds."

"Time?" the man echoed derisively. "If your intention is to sell yourself regardless, why not begin with us? Treat us well, and perhaps we'll provide for you indefinitely."

His words struck her with the force of a physical blow. Elizabeth could no longer suppress her tears; they streamed down her face as she dissolved into open sobbing, her voice escalating into a desperate cry.

"Someone, please! Help me!"

Her desperate plea reverberated through the area, only to be met with an unnerving void of apathy.

The ruffian erupted in loud laughter and produced his mobile phone.

"Go on," he taunted, "make your calls. To any high-ranking official, law enforcement, or influential figure. I possess their numbers. Let's see who you can summon to your aid."

Elizabeth's countenance turned ashen, the final ember of hope within her extinguishing. For months, she had endured relentless torment, but this day, the ordeal had surged beyond her capacity to bear it.

Then, amidst the suffocating tension, a subtle sound pierced the air.

Footsteps.

Though understated, their clarity was undeniable. Ignoring the daytime clamor and the distant murmurs, every assembled individual discerned the approach.

Heads swiveled in unison toward the origin of the sound.

A young man was advancing toward them.

He moved with an air of unhurried grace, his expression serene, almost detached. No overt threat emanated from him, yet his very presence commanded immediate attention.

He reached Elizabeth, positioning himself between her and the menacing group.

"Aunty," he addressed her politely, "might I trouble you for a glass of water?"

The sheer inconsequence of his request, given the dire circumstances, struck a chord of absurdity. Yet, the moment Elizabeth recognized his voice, a profound alteration occurred within her.

The fear, the gnawing anxiety, and the oppressive tension that had moments before consumed her began to dissipate. It was as if his mere proximity had conjured an impregnable sanctuary.

She responded with an instinctive nod.

"Please, follow me," she replied.

One of the ruffians advanced, his visage contorted with fury.

"Who in the blazes do you think you are?" he snarled. "Don't you see we're in the middle of speaking with this—"

His insolent proclamation was abruptly silenced.

In a singular, fluid movement, his head was severed from his body with immaculate precision.

There was no precursor, no discernible exertion. The act was so swift that, for a fleeting instant, a stunned silence prevailed.

Ethan lowered his blade incrementally, his gaze devoid of emotion.

"What was it you were saying?" he inquired.

An unnerving quiet descended upon the scene.

The remaining thugs gaped at the fallen corpse, their faces etched with sheer horror. They had courted trouble before, often relying on their connections to evade repercussions, but they had never directly confronted the abyss of death.

"W-who..." one stammered, his voice choked by terror.

Ethan offered no quarter for his unfinished utterance. With another fluid, effortless motion, he dispatched the rest of them.

Their lifeless forms crumpled to the ground in rapid succession.

"Such a bother," he murmured under his breath.

His attention then reverted to Elizabeth.

She remained frozen, her mind grappling with the staggering reality of the preceding moments.

"Aunty," he called out, his tone gentle.

She started slightly, then seemed to draw herself back to the present.

"Yes?" she answered, her voice trembling.

"The water," he gently reminded her, a subtle smile gracing his lips.

For reasons she couldn't articulate, a sense of dread did not accompany his presence. Despite the grim execution he had performed, no discernible threat emanated from him.

She nodded, ushering him into the dwelling.

As Ethan crossed the threshold, he spoke softly, a private utterance.

"Two secured. The Upper Realm is next."

...

Within Elysium, Ethan materialized inside a structure succumbing to decay. The edifice stood abandoned, its walls weathered, and its environs surrendered to neglect.

He proceeded towards the rear of the property, where a dense thicket concealed something beneath its leafy shroud.

"I ought to depart this continent first," he mused internally.

However, ere he could advance, a sharp, alarming sensation coursed through him. Every primal instinct screamed of imminent peril.

"So, he has indeed arrived," Ethan mused internally. "I had surmised he would hesitate to act unilaterally, especially with Veldanava operating so openly in this region."

Notwithstanding his thoughts, his external composure remained utterly unruffled. He continued his traverse towards the concealing bush as if no anomaly had occurred.

"Hello, big brother. From whence do you hail?"

The voice, light and imbued with childish innocence, inquired.

Ethan turned his head to the right.

A young boy stood there, seemingly no older than seven or eight years. His gaze was filled with curiosity, his eyes bright and keenly observant.

[Name: Lucious Augustus

Title: Seventh Hero

Level: 200]

Ethan assessed him briefly before offering a reply.

"I was evading an adversary," he stated calmly. "I stumbled upon this locale whilst seeking refuge from sight."

It wasn't entirely a fabrication.

The boy appeared to ponder his words attentively. Subsequently, he nodded, seemingly appeased.

"This place is perilous," Lucious declared. "You should accompany me instead. Should you prove not to be a malevolent individual, I can offer you employment and guarantee your security."

His delivery possessed a sincerity that belied his tender years.

Ethan regarded him for a sustained moment, his expression unreadable.

The circumstances had just taken a decidedly more intricate turn.