Infinite Range: The Sniper Mage

Chapter 788: 788 There Is Still Hope

The war staff rose high, and the breath of chaos lit the night sky.

There was no pity in Orson’s eyes. Supreme Firepower opened wide and poured down an arcane tsunami.

Boom.

Boom.

Mountains cracked. Rivers changed course. Heaven and earth shifted color. He became an unfeeling machine of slaughter.

Fight back, my people.

Crush every invader. Let them watch with their own eyes as a Godslayer era descends.

All units move out. Leave none alive.

Across the world the survivors answered at once. Earth’s supreme archmage had returned, two alien gods had fallen on the spot, and Taran, heir to the thunder god’s might, fled in panic. There was nothing left to hold them back.

He finally came back.

In UJ, amid ruins of the end times, an eight-headed serpent the size of a tower rose. The once beautiful face above it was carved with old scars.

Alive… she is alive.

Naoko did not die in the nuclear blast.

Traitors in the UJ theater fell into chaos. Years ago offworld adventurers seized this zone and Naoko butchered her way through them, almost perishing under a nuclear baptism.

Do not despise me. I will fight for you until the end.

Her fingers brushed her bruised cheek. She looked toward the shattered Hall of Chaos and her eyes reddened. The artifact scepter in her hand shuddered, and the ruin in her gaze burned away, replaced by a rising will to fight.

She knew one truth. As long as that man existed, they would not lose. No matter how many worlds they faced or how strong the gods were. The pigs who betrayed their own would die beneath the heel of war.

The invincible deity of the home nation has returned. At any cost, drive them back.

At the same time, the NUK leader Warblade raised the banner. Every adventurer who still drew breath crawled out of underground shelters to answer the god’s call.

Scenes like this played out in every land.

Men and women, young and old. Anyone who could still lift a weapon flooded out of shelters and into city centers. Offworld adventurers assigned to garrisons were assassinated. Many dogs dropped their arms. Administrators who had already sold out their countries were dragged into the streets bound hand and foot.

The so-called Supreme United Council collapsed in an instant.

For their own gain they sold their souls and their kin. No one would forgive them. They would burn to ash in the fire of vengeance.

The purge lasted a full day and night. The continents became a slaughterfield. Tens of millions of offworld adventurers were buried forever in the forbidden zone of the gods called Earth.

In Forever City, within a new Hall of Chaos.

A pity Taran slipped away.

Madman’s face was iron. Bradley had kept fronting until the moment he died, traded his life so the rest could live, and that grandstanding had always rubbed him raw.

The hall fell silent. While Taran lived, no amount of killing could ease their hate. He was the root of this disaster. If they did not uproot him, he would hover over them like a shadow. Especially with a High God seed in his chest. If he fully awakened its talent he would become a blade at their throat.

Orson sipped hometown tea, calm as still water.

I let him go.

After a long moment he spoke. The words crashed like a stone into a lake. Everyone stared in disbelief.

Are you kidding me.

Madman’s eyes went red. He grabbed Orson by the collar.

Do you want to die, thief.

Cain moved like a demon and clamped Madman’s wrist in a grip of iron.

You should not speak to the hierarch that way, even if you are friends.

Xenon rose as well, a hard edge in her eyes.

Orson raised a hand for them to stand down.

So you became a god and now you are special. Do not forget, you and I are the same, just mortals with bigger numbers, motherf—.

Madman’s curses tumbled over each other. Breeze frowned and hauled him back. We are family. Shouting will not solve it.

You are right. We are only mortals with bigger numbers. That is why hate and rage drag us into war.

Orson nodded with a smile toward Madman. A strange white radiance spread from his skin, smoothing the wrinkles that had etched his face.

As the Hall of Chaos rose again, faith from every corner of the world flowed in. The gaunt body restored by the eye.

You had better not turn into a monster, or I will cut you down myself.

If that day ever comes, I will give you my back, brother.

Orson’s smile held pain. Looking at Madman’s face stabbed him to the core.

You had better.

Madman blinked, then shook his head and laughed despite himself. He stepped forward and pulled the bastard into a tight hug.

The others traded puzzled looks. Only the two brothers understood. Orson had become Earth’s only true god, yet he could not stand being worshiped as one. Still, he needed an endless tide of faith to fuel a war that would spread across the galaxy.

He could feel it. Aside from Madman, Breeze, and a few others, many eyes on him had changed. There was a blind worship of power that would lead to unwise choices, like treating ordinary humans as lesser and enslaving them. If that happened, he would be no different from the gods of other worlds.

Not that he was a saint. Ten plus worlds had invaded Earth. They should be ready to be enslaved in return. At least that was how he saw it.

My awakened friend is already at his side. Taran will lead us to our next destination.

The woman who can change her face and stats.

Madman’s brows rose. Orson nodded. With a living metal body, Saint Roland could mimic even gods. Planting him at Taran’s side could not be more fitting.

Given Taran’s style, he would not drift aimlessly through the void with Sword Soul in tow. Even with a High God seed partly unlocked, he was not stupid. He would gather allies and seek greater backing. The galaxy’s core, the World of Divine Grace with its endless resources and many gods, was the obvious target.

But the galaxy was vast beyond comprehension. Finding that world would be no small feat. Even the undying of space knew little of it.

And of course, those gods who had peered through mortal vessels at the chaos god’s wrath were already running for their lives.

So Orson needed a torch to show the way for war.

Clack.

As he thought, a dagger flashed across the air like ice and punched into the wall behind him. He had not moved an inch.

A ghost of a figure flickered past the circle. Orson’s mouth tilted. Back already.

It is you who are back, idiot.

A soft, boneless body melted into his arms. Blank bit his ear and blood beaded in slender lines. A different kind of pain raced through Orson’s body.

I missed you. I missed you so much.

Me too. His nose stung. There was a new line on her face, time he had missed.

Hearing his answer, Blank’s eyes overflowed. Her teeth sank into his shoulder again. She clawed her way out of the endless killing and tried to remember the scent of this man.

Meeting adjourned. Meeting adjourned. The old man has business.

Ethan popped up from his seat, shamelessly shooing people out. The others rose with knowing smiles, full of envy and relief.

I will surpass you. Time will prove it.

Oliver watched them, emotions tangled. That man’s arms belonged to his mother. In his eyes, Blank was the hateful interloper.

He turned to leave with his master Usher when a paw hooked his sleeve. Ethan waggled his brows. Bro, how about a family photo before you go.

Oliver’s whole body went stiff. Rejection burned in his brow. He opened his mouth to refuse.

But the usually brash Ethan held his cuff with both hands and whispered almost pleadingly, Please. Let me be selfish once.

Faced with Ethan on the verge of tears, the elder brother’s heart softened. He dragged his feet over to stand with the three.

Keep those smiles.

Dancing Giant Boobs wiped at her eyes and still managed a grin, lifting an ancient prewar camera. Behind her stood a hundred empty chairs, each with a photo, the spirits who watched over Earth. Her longtime secret boyfriend was among them, once a star in the US scene.

They were the stubborn ones who ignored nations and factions. To drive away the invaders, they gave more than anyone could ask.

Three.

Two.

One.

Click.

The moment froze into place. In this war they had lost too much. Yet the flame of hope still flickered in their chests.