Infinite Range: The Sniper Mage

Chapter 749: 749 The Star Cup Arena

Earth Republic System, Lunar Star Cup Arena.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 15th Earth Infinite Dimensions Star Cup Grand Finals!”

A floating platform hovered more than ten kilometers above the lunar surface.

“Good morning, Infinite Dimensions galaxy!”

“Good morning to viewers from across the worlds!”

Four hosts, each of strikingly different appearance, stood in formal attire, their voices full of fire as they greeted the audience.

A dozen massive Vilitian sky-dragons swept over the arena, each carrying hundreds of battlefield cameramen who would stream the fight from every possible angle to audiences across countless Infinite Dimensions worlds.

Below, the so-called arena was less a coliseum than a war island.

Through space-mage reconstruction, the hundred-kilometer field held mountains, canyons, plains, and more. Hidden within were roaming boss monsters and traps capable of ending even King-tier contenders in an instant.

One misstep and a team would face an instant trip to respawn.

“And of course, let’s not forget the old friend who’s been with us for eight Star Cup seasons now. Good morning to you too!”

The lizard-faced host laughed, and the others wore knowing smirks.

The feed cut to the center of the arena. There stood a vast altar, unmistakably an ancient religious relic.

Atop it rose a towering golden cross, and perched on its peak was a crystalline chalice of extravagant design.

The Infinite Dimensions Star Cup, the ultimate prize for every team here.

Billions of spectators leaned closer as the camera zoomed in.

The cross was slick with blood. Bound to it was a man with his limbs hacked away, half his face stripped to bone. His features were twisted, his eyes unfathomable, and the sight alone was enough to freeze spines.

His stumps writhed, flesh struggling to regrow. But every time they did, black beams swept through and sheared them off again.

Agony that should drive anyone mad—but the man’s face stayed calm, his eyes locked instead on the dragon-mounted camera above.

“I swear… if I get free, I’ll grind you to dust!”

His roar carried through the holo-feed, and the killing intent within it made entire audiences shudder.

“This old fossil again! Every year his battle cry gets more dramatic.”

“Hah! In Galehowl World we’ve got two godsons in the bracket. Unless we get unlucky and run into Earth’s god-king heir early, this year is in the bag!”

Viewers around their projectors went pale for a moment, then broke into laughter. For them, the fossil’s rant was part of the yearly ritual.

“Looks like the Martian trash signed up too.”

“Yeah, rumor is the legendary Earth Archmage’s two heirs are leading teams.”

“Right. They wiped every qualifier in their bracket. Straight to the finals. Scary strong.”

“Doesn’t matter. As long as that man’s heir is here, the Martians won’t leave alive. If they do, it’ll be pure luck.”

Around the arena floated hundreds of VIP warships, their chat-channels buzzing with live debate, and wagers pouring in for their favorite teams.

Inside the waiting rooms, the atmosphere froze when the roar rang out.

“You heard that? That’s my father’s voice…”

A chubby-cheeked girl clutched a light-and-dark elemental blade, tears spilling down her face.

“Don’t be afraid.”

A veiled woman with eyes sparking lightning set her hands gently on the girl’s shoulders.

“I’m not afraid. I just want them dead!” Isla choked, red-eyed.

“God-king’s brat my ass. Just let me get my hands on him. Chloe, my sweet, stop crying.”

Riven swaggered over. He looked so much like Madman that it was uncanny—same face, same crooked grin, even the same lewd aura.

He cursed, wiped Isla’s tears, and gave her round cheek a teasing pinch. The ridiculous act cracked her gloom just enough to lift her spirits.

“Your plan’s crap. How do you know we can even hide all the way to the finals?”

Beside him, a clean-cut boy frowned, rubbing his temple as he raised a strange fire-stave. “What if I just drop a forbidden spell at the start, make everyone think we’re in a big fight, then we play dead until the end?”

Riven stared. “Really? You think they’re idiots? They’ll rush us for the cleanup kill!”

“Uh… yeah, fair point.” The boy scratched his head, sheepish.

“Saving him comes first.”

In the corner, a pale, brooding young man finally spoke.

“Saving Bradley is the top priority, sure. But I can’t help it. That god-king’s brat? Why not just crush him?” The boy scowled and muttered. “Without his daddy, he’s nothing.”

“Ethan, shut your mouth.” Oliver’s cold stare cut him down.

“Oooh.” Ethan stuck out his tongue, pulling a silly face, all mischief and no shame. His skill bar bristled with forbidden spells, and all he thought about was which one would make the biggest boom.

Oliver swept his gaze over them, voice like iron. “That cross is a divine relic. I’ll find a way to break it. Once he’s free, you drop out. Forget the cup. Run for Mars.”

He turned his eyes on Ethan, his half-brother. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes, yes, mission first,” Ethan grumbled.

He was Mars’ infamous troublemaker. But ever since this brother appeared from nowhere, he’d been beaten bloody on the regular.

Not because his S-tier Chaos Saint Son talent was weak, but because Oliver was a monster. His archery was unmatched among the young generation, second only to his master, Usher. Even divine weapons feared his draw.

Ethan couldn’t wrap his head around it. He was the heir to Orson’s chaos mage path. Shouldn’t he at least be half as strong as his father?

Yet Oliver read him like a book. Every trick, every combo, crushed before it landed. Getting killed a dozen times a day was just his normal routine now.

The Star Cup allowed only adventurers under 25. Aside from a handful of godspawn, few could last more than a few exchanges with Oliver.

If he went all out, even that god-king’s son would end up as a pincushion.

But that was the problem. Years ago, the gods had seized Earth.

Godslayer and Dragon’s Kiss Guilds had united, burning every trump card.

At the peak, Godslayer’s strongest, Kyle, had challenged a god to a duel.

He forced the deity into an oath: the loser would quit Earth.

A miracle—he won. Against all odds, he won.

But the gods, faithless and shameless, ignored their vow. They took Earth anyway. The alliance fled, broken, retreating to Mars to lick their wounds.

Oliver looked long at his clueless brother and shook his head. “You live naive. And stupid.”