Infinite Range: The Sniper Mage

From the barrel of the magic tank extended a thin, unimpressive staff, resembling little more than a twig. Even the Dragon Warlord seemed momentarily confused by the sight, its expression contorted with both disdain and amusement.

"Filthy, insignificant creatures! You dare disturb the sanctity of the dragon race?"

The Dragon Warlord bent its knees and launched itself into the air like a cannonball, soaring above the goblins before descending with its massive blade aimed directly at the tank.

"Seriously? Using a melee weapon against a tank? Dream on."

Orson couldn't help but laugh. The boss's enchanted strike hit for a solid 8,000 damage, but with the tank boasting 500,000 HP, it was hardly a scratch.

"Hold position!" Orson shouted, directing Nightshade to adjust the tank's angle. The target locked, and Orson's makeshift cannon began to shine with chaotic energy.

Whoosh!

A The Flame Dragon spell burst forth from the staff, hitting the boss square in the face.

-1,600

-4,780

-4,780

Nightshade gawked at the damage numbers lighting up the battlefield. "Hey! Who's the artillery here, you or me? How is your staff doing more damage than my cannon?!"

Orson grinned, holding back a chuckle. "With you driving this fortress, I can afford to let loose."

The Dragon Warlord, now enraged, roared to the heavens and retaliated. Leaping high, it slashed through the air with frigid precision, turning the The Flame Dragon spell into an ice sculpture mid-flight.

Then, with blinding speed, it pivoted and charged back toward the tank.

Orson's eyes narrowed. "Not so fast."

He clapped his hands together, summoning Earthquake. The staff glowed brightly, its Multistrike effect activating.

Six stone dragons erupted from the ground, trapping the boss in a web of seismic devastation. The tremors were so intense that even the goblins were thrown into disarray, many colliding into each other in chaotic fashion.

Nightshade, stunned by the spectacle, could only stammer, "What… what kind of magic is that? Can I learn it?"

"Sure, if I find another skill book, I'll save it for you." Orson laughed, his hands already weaving another spell.

With Whisper of the Wind boosting his attack speed to an absurd 3.0, Orson unleashed an unrelenting barrage of Chaos Magic Balls, raining devastation down on the immobilized boss.

Critical Hit: -2,400

Critical Hit: -2,400

As the Dragon Warlord struggled against the stone dragons, its subordinates rushed forward to assist. Orson smirked, summoning Chaotic Tides to engulf the dragon guards. The surging waves of chaos magic forced them to attack one another in a frenzy of friendly fire.

With his focus back on the boss, Orson's relentless assault began to chip away at its health rapidly. When the boss finally broke free of the stone dragons' grasp, Orson ordered Nightshade to maneuver the tank to a safe distance.

At 200 meters out, Orson resumed his long-range bombardment, filling the air with an endless cascade of damage numbers.

"You can hit from that far away?!" Nightshade's jaw dropped. "What the hell are you using, man? Your range makes my cannon look like a toy!"

Orson chuckled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Give me more space to kite, and I can go even farther."

Nightshade's awe deepened. Silently, he resolved to leave the confines of the goblin caves and experience the wider world. His current setup, impressive as it was, clearly wasn't enough compared to players like Orson.

"I need to take the Goblin Night Clan out for development! No more hiding underground!"

The tank's surprising speed allowed it to stay ahead of the boss. While the Dragon Warlord was strong, its two legs were no match for the treaded beast, which Nightshade expertly maneuvered with high-speed drifts and sharp turns. Stay connected through empire

As Nightshade focused on wiping out the remaining dragon guards, Orson unleashed another Chaos Chain, doubling his damage output. The string of absurd critical hits left Nightshade in stunned silence.

"You must be rocking some crazy gear! Is it all heroic grade? Maybe even purple gear?" Nightshade asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

Orson smirked. "Something like that. Why, interested in joining a top-tier guild?"

Nightshade hesitated, then asked hopefully, "If I join, could I help without slowing you guys down? I've got goblins for backup. They're not much now, but I swear they're useful!"

"Deal!" Orson didn't even hesitate. "Join my guild, and I'll sponsor materials for your inventions. Whatever you need, I'll handle it."

It was the response Orson had been hoping for.

Nightshade's potential as a Waaagh Apostle was staggering. If properly nurtured, he could single-handedly equip an entire army.

The tank alone was proof enough of his value. If Orson could fund the development of hundreds of these magic tanks for his guild's support players, they'd become an unstoppable force—a steel tide rolling over anything in their way.

"Sick! He's almost dead! We're taking him down this time!" Nightshade cheered as the Dragon Warlord's health dipped below 200,000.

Sensing its defeat, the boss turned to flee, but Nightshade's goblin Tech-Barons moved to intercept.

"Bloodthirsty Critical activated!"n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

The Dragon Warlord unleashed a flurry of deadly slashes, cutting down two Tech-Barons in seconds.

But the goblins were nothing if not determined—or insane.

"Waaagh!"

Three Tech-Barons latched onto the boss, their eyes glowing with an eerie red light. Their bodies began to swell grotesquely, expanding like balloons.

"Wait, are they…?" Orson's eyes widened.

[Skill: Warmonger's Fury]

"Boom!"

The first goblin exploded, dealing 50,000 damage.

"Boom!"

The second explosion followed, then the third.

Suicide Explosion: -50,000

Suicide Explosion: -50,000

Suicide Explosion: -50,000

Three mushroom clouds erupted in rapid succession, leaving the Dragon Warlord maimed and bleeding. Its legs were blown clean off, and it was left crawling helplessly on the ground.

Nightshade's eyes burned with emotion as he saluted his fallen goblins. "Waaagh God blesses us all! Forward!"

Orson clapped a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head with a wry smile. "Take it easy. This is just the first phase."

With its health down to the last sliver, the Dragon Warlord collapsed in a grotesque heap, dropping a purple-tier staff and several skill books.

"A purple weapon! This is the gear of legends!" Nightshade gasped, eyes sparkling.

Orson inspected the loot briefly before tossing the staff to Nightshade.

"Here, take it. We'll get you to Level 25 soon enough," Orson said nonchalantly.

Nightshade's jaw dropped. "I can't… This thing must be worth thousands! I can't accept it!"

Orson's smile widened. "Thousands, huh? Sure, let's call it that."

The truth was, this purple staff would fetch over a million at the auction house. But to Orson, an investment in Nightshade's potential was worth far more.

"Just take it," Orson urged. "If you want to repay me, use it to build me a magic army."

Nightshade stared at him, overwhelmed with gratitude. "Deal! Let's turn this world upside down!"