Infinite Range: The Sniper Mage

Blank’s face turned cold. She wanted to talk back, but the words caught in her throat. She realized she had crossed a line that Orson wouldn’t let slide.

Madman stepped in. “Emma, you might be our bodyguard, but you’d better learn to read the room.”

Bradley gave a helpless smile and quietly comforted her. “Hey… don’t take it too hard. Orson’s like that—if I’d said something out of line, he’d have gone off on me too.”

Blank clenched her fists, her expression darkening. She could feel several unfriendly stares locking onto her—all from the Godslayer core members.

“You’re done here. Log out,” Orson said coldly.

Blank froze.

She couldn’t tell if this man was a ruthless dictator or the savior who might just drag the US out of its descent into ruin.

Her face pale, she turned and logged off under the complex gazes of the others.

As the game pod opened, she couldn’t hold back the tears that slipped silently down her cheeks. His words had cut deep, straight through the heart. She felt betrayed, like her loyalty had been tossed aside.

She couldn’t understand him—not even after everything. And what Ruby had once said—that he actually liked her—only made the pain worse.

“Orgod, what the hell’s your problem? You think this is how we treat our own?!”

Slaughter Spree exploded with rage, pointing at Orson, voice booming, completely unconcerned about retaliation.

“Enough! We’re on the same side—stop fighting!” Bradley shouted, stepping in front of Orson.

Slaughter Spree sneered. “Right, got it. One-man dictatorship, huh? I’m done with this circus.”

With that, he logged off too.

“Goddamn it,” Madman muttered. “Do you have to be so harsh? She was just too anxious, that’s all.”

“I had no choice,” Orson said with a bitter smile. “Too many guild leaders were watching.”

Being the figurehead of Godslayer meant putting personal feelings aside and making the hard calls.

Orgod wasn’t just the guild leader—he was a totem. Everything he said and did carried the full weight of Godslayer’s authority.

In a way, he was a god among mortals. His authority could not be questioned.

Not even Blank, the head of Radiant Shuttle, could bend him by invoking her title.

Even if the road Orson walked was wrong, his people would walk it with him without hesitation.

That was what it meant to follow a mortal god.

“Sign the binding contract,” Orson said, tossing a blood pact scroll at Kassadin’s feet.

Kassadin’s face stiffened. He hesitated for a long moment before reluctantly pulling out a different contract—the one signed with Archangel Jenonis.

Just as Orson had expected.

To prevent future betrayals, all three noble houses, aside from the Platinum family, had already pledged their loyalty to the Archangel.

“The last of your illusions, shattered,” Orson said, leaning in, his eyes sharp and cold.

“Illusions…? Forgive my ignorance, Conqueror, I don’t know what you mean,” Kassadin stammered, visibly terrified.

“With Jenonis holding your contract, even if we make a deal, he only needs to think about erasing you, and you’ll be dust.”

Orson sneered. “Your family name will be stripped, and our deal will be void.”

“I…” Kassadin stood frozen. He was cornered—no matter which way he turned, death awaited him.

“So what? We kill him now and hope he drops something good?” Bradley asked, frowning. “Seems like a waste.”

“Oh, he’s worth squeezing a little more,” Madman said with a creepy grin, stepping up to start looting Kassadin.

“No need to rush.” Orson shook his head.

In Infinite Dimensions, high-level NPCs had a hidden mechanic: when humiliated or pushed too far, they were prone to self-destruction. If Kassadin chose death, they’d get nothing.

Just like when Gale killed the Ghostfang Frostwolf King—there’d been no loot at all.

“You want to live?” Orson asked calmly, eyes narrowed in a sly smile.

Kassadin hesitated… then nodded firmly.

“Jenonis doesn’t know you’re planning to betray him—yet. So I’ll give you an out,” Orson said, eyes glinting.

“Please, speak. I am not afraid of death, but my loyalty lies with the Light Dragon Emperor… not some undead Pope,” Kassadin said, clinging to hope.

“Hand over the Golden House’s crest. From now on, there will be no Duke Kassadin—just a commoner.”

Orson’s foxlike grin crept across his face.

“You’re not planning to… become the next Golden Duke, are you?” Bradley whispered, eyes wide.

Madman looked just as stunned. “That’s insane…”

But Kassadin quickly shattered that idea. “You want to inherit the title? That’s impossible. Adventurers can’t use the crest.”

“I know,” Orson said smoothly. “But I have NPC allies who can.”

“But… you killed Soros. You won’t get the Dragon King’s blessing,” Kassadin said.

“And the new emperor hasn’t been crowned—no one can receive titles yet.”

“I don’t need their blessing. Just hand over the crest. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Kassadin hesitated. Giving up the crest meant losing the entire legacy of his family…

But not giving it up meant death.

You’ve discovered a hidden quest clue.

View it?

Orson raised an eyebrow and accepted.

[Rescue Kassadin’s Kin]

Quest Difficulty: Abyss-Tier

Objective: Secretly rendezvous with Kassadin’s family at the north gate of Golden City. At least 50% must survive.

Failure: Crest of the Golden House will lose its power.

“Fine,” Orson nodded. “You’ve made a wise choice. Now return what doesn’t belong to you.”

“Return it? What does that mean?” Madman asked, frowning.

Bradley groaned, sitting cross-legged on the ground. “My brain hurts. Too many brain cells getting used.”

He firmly believed that as a proper warrior, thinking too much ruined your reaction time.

“It means… it belongs to me.”

The previously silent Bryan, Lord of Riftrock City, stepped forward. He bowed his head respectfully toward Orson. “My daughter was right. The world will change because of you.”

“You spared me,” Bryan said. “So I assume you want something in return.”

“I’m impressed by your people’s intelligence,” Orson said, eyeing the brawny middle-aged man. “Your clan produced a prophet of Infinite Dimensions. I’ll let your past transgressions slide—especially since I’m working with the Witch.”

A golden crest shimmered in Kassadin’s hand.

“Welcome back, seventh Duke of the Golden House,” Kassadin said, eyes full of bitterness. He had no choice but to watch a family heirloom six thousand years old return to a descendant of its former enemies.

“I get it now!” Madman clapped his thigh, staring at Orson like he was some kind of monster.

Magical Fiancée’s eyes glowed with excitement. “Incredible. Bryan carries golden blood. Returning the crest to him bypasses the need for a binding contract. Now we get control of both the Riftrock remnants and the Golden House army!”

“So snatching this city was just your distraction?” Bradley asked.

Orson nodded. “This city can’t hold the Empire back alone—it’s just a buffer zone. The real battle will be at Forever City.”

Crest of the Golden House activated!

Laurent Bryan is now Golden Duke!

A binding contract appeared in front of him.

Bryan’s expression froze. Orson casually explained, “Your daughter asked me to rescue you. You’re healthy. Signing this won’t be a problem, right?”

He didn’t trust anyone—not even his allies. The Witch had always watched him carefully, and Orson had prepared countermeasures of his own.

The more aces he held, the better.

Bryan signed without protest.

Guild Channel:

“All guilds, leave a few members to patrol Riftrock City. The rest of you—log off for two hours. Rest up.”

“When we get back online, we go big. Let’s boost our power!”

Orson raised his hand high.

Madman pumped his fist. “Hell yeah! Let’s use this place as bait and give those bastards hell!”

Magical Fiancée added, “My dragon knights will track even a blade of grass if it moves. You can count on us!”

Despite their exhaustion, everyone was fired up. Fighting under a war mage who delivered dragon meat? That was the dream.

After setting patrol orders, Orson logged off. His pod opened with a hiss.

He opened his eyes—

And saw a long-haired white figure standing silently at his door.

“Holy shit—ghost?!”

Orson’s scalp went numb. He reflexively summoned the Supreme Arcane Blade, raising his hand to cast Chaos Magic Ball.