Infinite Range: The Sniper Mage

“The Spirit King… will never let you live.”

“Kill me, and the Spirit Tribe will haunt your every dream—you’ll never sleep peacefully again!”

Preston clutched his mangled throat, blood still gushing despite his grip.

Blank ignored his curses. The true damage bleed had stacked past 100,000 per second. Even with his boosted HP, there was no surviving that.

She turned back to the battlefield—now cratered like the moon—and muttered to herself, “Mages… all about that AoE carnage.”

“But close combat? Give me an opening, and I’ll still win.”

Her voice wasn’t fully confident, but as a Bruce Family heir, she couldn’t back down. She wasn’t just a pretty accessory—never had been.

“Not bad. I respect that. Believe in yourself. You’ve got what it takes to win in close quarters,” Orson teased, clearly implying more than just fighting.

“Shut up!” Blank turned crimson, and in her frustration, took it out on the stunned players around her. “What are you staring at?! Their mages are routed—push and support the guild master!”

“Y-yes ma’am! With the Archmage on our side, why are we even worried? Let’s go wreck them!”

The players snapped out of their stupor—but now stared at Blank with… different eyes.

“Congrats, Vice Leader! Risked it all and snatched a top-tier combat power!”

“Early congrats on—”

Blank froze as dozens of gold-gift messages poured in. She stomped the ground in frustration, but couldn’t bring herself to explain.

“Quick! Save Prince Preston!” a Domain Master assassin cried out.

All remaining Spirit Tribe assassins still within the cleric line instantly pulled back, charging through enemy fire to reach their prince.

“Seal him in Unfrozen Spring and get him back to the Spirit King Palace—move!”

Suddenly, a streak of white light tore across the battlefield—everywhere it passed, players dropped dead in an instant.

“A Saint Lord! Another one! Blank, watch out!” Slaughter Spree had just been revived and shouted the warning.

“Scatter!”

Crimson Lizard King let out a low growl, spinning around with a snort.

Dragon Curse: Blazing Meteor Shower!

Meteor after meteor rained from the sky.

But the enemy was blindingly fast, weaving through flaming boulders that could crush Lord-class NPCs with ease. In a blink, they were within a hundred meters of Orson and Blank.

“Not your average Saint Lord. Stronger than Preston by far.” Orson’s eyes narrowed as he switched to his Doomsday Blade and stepped in front of Blank.

“You—”

Blank opened her mouth to argue, wanting to salvage her pride. But looking at his not-so-tall figure shielding her, she felt… safe.

“Let him have this one,” she muttered, blushing deeply.

“You Spirit Tribe freak, you dare face me?”

Crimson Lizard King snarled, transforming into humanoid form and charging through a shroud of black mist.

“Keep your precious relic spring. This battle’s already ours.”

Suddenly, a soft laugh echoed from the sky.

Whoosh…

A shadow loomed overhead like a giant ghostly face, crashing into the advancing Spirit Tribe reinforcements.

BOOM.

Gale winds swept outward.

A young woman appeared, wearing a dazzling yet sleek gray battle suit, twin black daggers crossed at her waist, and a devilish smile on her lips.

Dark Spirit Tribe Princess—Nadora.

“Nadora… you wretched traitor!” an elderly Spirit Tribe warrior roared, his white hair whipping in the wind.

“We’ve been at war for millennia. Blades have spoken longer than words. How is this ‘treachery’?” Nadora smiled sweetly, throwing Orson a sultry glance over her shoulder.

The old warrior snapped, his dual blades flashing like lightning—but Nadora didn’t flinch.

Her body moved with exaggerated agility. The players watching could barely follow—this was no normal NPC.

Orson shivered as a chill crept up his spine. He coughed awkwardly, “Relax. It’s just a… transaction.”

“What the hell is going on?! These NPCs are helping us?!”

“They’re insane! Every strike is lethal! They’re cutting down Lord-class NPCs like nothing!”

The battle tipped again.

The Dark Spirit Tribe moved like silent assassins, appearing in coordinated waves. They hunted in packs, targeting only high-level enemies.

Over three thousand of them surged onto the battlefield, pinning down the Light Spirit Tribe’s elite assassins. Many joined the pursuit lines, excelling at chase-down kills.

With support from Slaughter players and Type-3 Titan Mechs, the imperial NPCs—now without cleric support—were torn apart.

The front was quickly pushed all the way to the trapped elite players, including the Demon Emperor.

“YES! KILL THEM ALL! LEAVE NONE ALIVE!”

Transformed into a titan, Demon Emperor roared. His greatsword cleaved down, splitting cavalrymen and their mounts in one strike.

“Nora, you disgusting, fallen witch! Get out of my way!” the old Spirit Tribe elder bellowed, veins bulging.

Though stronger than Nora, his assault only managed to land a heavy blow, sending her flying.

He stepped forward to finish her—only to hear someone whisper nearby, “Awakening: Lord of the Unde—”

He whipped his head around.

Orson shrugged. “Oops, ran out of mana. Gotta recharge first.”

That moment of distraction was all Nora needed.

Her twin blades flashed.

She severed his arm, forcing him to trigger Body Domination and retreat.

“You filthy traitor! Using outsiders to meddle in internal affairs!” Preston sat slumped in blood, face twisted in hatred.

“Thank you, Your Highness. Flattery will get you nowhere.”

Nora giggled, cheeks glowing like peach blossoms.

Then her smile vanished.

Her voice rang through both tribes:

“Ku’Jalai’s only heir is dead. I, Nora, as the rightful successor, shall unite the Spirit Tribe and end this thousand-year war!”

“I knew it…” Orson sighed. He had already guessed her plan.

Both Spirit Kings were ancient, clinging to life.

Nora had gifted him the Titan’s Magic Eye to curry favor—but her real goal was to have him kill Preston and help her seize power.

SPLASH.

Golden blood exploded.

Preston let out a final gasp, falling lifeless to the ground.

“From this day forward, there is no ‘Light’ or ‘Dark’ Spirit Tribe. As heir to the throne, I command you—drop your weapons!”

The remaining Spirit Tribe forces stood frozen.

Their prince was dead. Their lineage shattered.

Hopeless, they laid down their weapons and were immediately disarmed by the Dark Spirit Tribe.

“Thank you, Kingslayer.”

Nora turned, bowing gracefully to Orson.

“Spare me the theatrics. Just get the hidden class unlock ready.”

He remained distant. “I didn’t land the final blow. Give her a few divine items or artifacts as a reward.”

He glanced at Blank, patting her head.

She elbowed him hard. “Idiot.”

“Without me leading, her chances weren’t great,” Orson muttered.

Nora smiled. She turned to Blank and said softly, “Disciple. As an adventurer, your talent exceeds mine. The path of the Shadow will flourish through you.”

“…Disciple?”

Orson’s brain short-circuited.

Blank gave a solemn nod of respect.

Then it hit him. She had a hidden legacy. Phantomblade Assassin, passed down by Princess Nora.

“You are now qualified to enter the Temple of Asura and master the secrets of the Shadow.” Nora beamed with pride.

“The Temple of Asura… Spirit Tribe’s forbidden trial ground!”

Orson’s eyes lit up. Blank already had multiple S-rank assassination skills, and that temple was rumored to house Forbidden Curse-tier assassination techniques.

“Thank you, Master.”

Blank’s voice trembled with emotion.

Orson could tell—this girl had truly accepted the NPC as her teacher.

Which made sense. The Bruce Family had trained in ancient martial arts since childhood. Unlike him, who called Flame Fosset an “old turtle,” she took hierarchy and tradition seriously.

The Dark Spirit King is watching you.

You have successfully made a pact with the Dark Spirit Tribe.

You now hold command rights over the Dark Spirit Tribe.

If you lead them to victory in the Light Dragon Civil War and crown Nora as queen of the united tribe, the entire Spirit Tribe will migrate to Forever City.

In return, your guild [Godslayer] will gain access to A/S/SS-rank hidden class paths!

These unlocks bypass current rogue class restrictions and allow a full class re-selection!

The system alert dropped like a bomb. Orson was stunned.

Compared to the piles of loot on the battlefield, this was what he truly wanted!

Rare equipment could be crafted by Veijander…

But a guild-wide chance to re-select hidden classes?

That was priceless.

In Infinite Dimensions, class tier and Soul Seal dictated a player’s absolute power ceiling.

And now, he’d unlocked a path for every rogue in the guild to ascend.