Infinite Range: The Sniper Mage

Major Announcement: Lightning Dragon King Velorith has officially opened access to S-rank limited class paths for all players participating in the war against the Empire:

[Candidate: Lightning Dragon Knight]

[Candidate: Lightning Dragon Warrior]

Major Announcement: Players with qualifying class archetypes may now enter the Dragon Secret Realm [Thunder Domain] and consult related NPCs to receive quest leads. Completing the trial mission will allow a player to form an equal contract with a Lightning Dragon and receive a unique Heroic/God-tier Soul Seal.

Major Announcement: Players who pass the trial may reset their awakened class. Only 20 slots available.

——

A bombshell!

Orson looked absolutely dumbfounded.

Since when did S-rank classes become so… cheap?

And even the ultra-rare Dragon Warrior class was now publicly available.

Twenty slots!

That meant twenty players could potentially ride Lightning Dragons into battle!

Sure, no doubt the trial missions would be brutally hard.

But—there was no time limit. And with enough time and talent, someone would eventually become a high-tier dragon rider.

“I swear I’ll go all in for that Lightning Dragon Warrior slot!”

“Orgod! Is Orgod online? We from Shadowstep Guild want in!”

“Looking for someone from command—bring us along! Our studio’s got eighty second-tier top players!”

Once the announcements hit, hesitation evaporated.

The global channel exploded as players across all regions scrambled to organize anti-Empire operations.

Some warrior-class whales immediately left their guilds and DM’d Madman, begging to join his warband.

Madman:

“Bruh, the Voper Gang leader just asked to join us as a warrior apprentice. Dude’s Level 55 wearing a full set of Level 45 legendary gear—as an apprentice! I’m dying over here!”

Madman couldn’t stop laughing.

These elite players usually acted like gods, ignoring everyone. Now they were lining up like nervous freshmen.

Fact was, warrior players were by far the most common class type in Infinite Dimensions—and skill levels varied wildly.

Some couldn’t even beat same-level elites.

Others were literal monsters—fully geared, mechanically flawless, able to 1v100 with ease.

But watching Dragon Knights soaring across the sky every day… of course these warrior elites were jealous!

Madman:

“So what’s the call? You joining or not?”

Sure, they could technically join Slaughter or Supreme Guild and earn the “Civil War Participant” tag…

But they weren’t stupid.

They knew exactly who started all of this: Orgod.

And in this game? Proximity is power.

Join Orgod’s guild, and he’d definitely favor his own members when handing out final class slots.

That meant a much higher chance of actually becoming a Lightning Dragon Warrior.

Orson smirked: “Let them know—this is just the beginning.”

Because simply becoming a Candidate Dragon Knight or Dragon Warrior didn’t mean much.

Sure, it boosted your stats and gave you some flashy rare skills.

But…

Did they even have enough Lightning Dragons to go around?

Without a dragon mount, a Dragon Knight was just a foot soldier with fancy shoes. The true power spike came from riding the beast.

Still, Velorith had made her intentions clear.

She was desperate—willing to bet everything on player power to fight off the Kingdom of Heaven.

“I have shown my sincerity. The Lightning Dragons will live or die with the Adventurers!”

She spoke in ancient Dragon Tongue—most players couldn’t understand a word.

Only Orson understood, and he remained calm.

“That’s not enough,” he said flatly. “You haven’t even chosen your rider yet.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, a thick aura of death wrapped around Velorith.

In Orson’s mind, a wave of resistance surged—his dragon wasn’t happy.

“You want me to fly with food, my lord?”

Crimson Lizard King growled, unleashing a breath of pure death that narrowly missed Velorith’s flank.

The Lightning Dragon Queen shivered, shrinking back, clearly rattled.

“Jeez, calm down,” Orson said, half-laughing. He jabbed Blank in the arm. “Learn from her, will ya?”

“Learn what? That I’m the calm one?” Blank smacked his hand away, eyes narrowed.

Both girl and dragon stared at him with disdain.

Super awkward silence.

“I’d rather die in battle than be yours,” Velorith hissed, clearly shaken by Crimson Lizard King’s pressure.

The Lizard King snorted in contempt.

Orson rolled his eyes—this moody queen again?

Didn’t she understand the value of turning enemies into allies?

But of course—not his dragon, and not Velorith—none of them were saints.

If they didn’t like someone, they’d fight ’em.

If they lost? They’d come back for a rematch later.

“Fine. Then go find another master,” Orson said coldly. “And Aetrexa won’t be a problem anymore.”

Crimson Lizard King turned toward the silver-clad warrior circling overhead.

Aetrexa was watching them from above.

“Baron,” she called down, voice icy and regal. “You think you can challenge a god?”

She looked every bit the divine war goddess, her eyes showing no fear—despite facing the full force of the Godslayer Alliance.

“You talk about protecting Infinite Dimensions, but you’re just Heaven’s pawn,” Orson sneered.

“And if you’re here to destroy dragonkind, then riddle me this—what’s up with that Holy Light Dragon beneath you?”

That mount—glimmering with divine silver scales—had already evolved into a Dragon King-tier creature, escaping the usual rule of one king per dragon tribe.

Aetrexa’s face darkened.

Before she could reply, the Holy Dragon King beside her spoke first:

“I serve the Supreme Will. I will die for Aetrexa.”

Aetrexa nodded.

“You heard him, Velorith. The age of dragons is over. Submit, or be erased.”

Orson scowled.

So much for breaking them from within.

Drunken Dream’s dragon, Denoka, let out a mocking roar:

“You disgrace our bloodline. You’re not worthy of the title Dragon King!”

“Silence, Tulikiki’s whelp,” spat the silver dragon. “Your father was weak—and it was your kind that doomed us all!”

Then it unleashed a flood of Holy Light Dragon Breath, cascading toward Denoka like molten silver.

“I am a true dragon!”

“I decide the fate of our kind—not you insects!”

“Get lost!”

Crimson Lizard King erupted in fury.

The might of the Celestial Winged Dragon rolled across the battlefield like a tsunami.

Its Death God Dragon Breath shredded the holy flames in an instant.

Even among Dragon Kings, this was a league apart.

Aetrexa’s eyes widened. She raised her dragon lance and prepared to use Space Reversal to redirect the attack.

But Orson’s voice cut through the battlefield:

“You’re not the Aetrexa I once respected.”

“Get out.”

BOOM.

Two voices—man and dragon—roared in unison.

Their sheer force made everyone’s skin crawl.

Orson activated Magic Eye and Mirror of Folding.

Twin beams of blinding light flared—space tore open.

As Aetrexa bent space to flee, the redirected Death God Dragon Breath veered at an impossible angle—slamming into her from the side.

Her dragon, Daroachil, screamed in agony.

HP Loss -17,000,000!

HP Loss -16,600,000!

…

Orson’s eyes blazed with divine light.

The sky turned red as Chaos Fusion activated.

Chaos: Dance of the Fan-Flame!

Flames surged across the battlefield. Imperial soldiers looked up in horror as a sea of fire descended upon them.

They had no chance.

They died by the thousands.

Aetrexa’s HP bar glowed with new shields—clearly the result of high-level Holy defense magic.

But Orson saw it all.

She’d already burned too many skills dodging Velorith’s Forbidden Curse.

Her strongest space magic was on cooldown.

Now, she could only tank it with holy shields—and even those were breaking.

“You’ll regret this, Orgod!” Aetrexa shouted, her golden hair catching fire in the chaos.

“Dragons are valuable to me,” Orson said coldly.

“I’ll eat them or ride them as I please. None of your business.”

He activated the God-Emperor Earrings.

Chaos Magic Ball locked on at extreme range.

The spell chased her across the sky, exploding again and again—until she was blasted beyond his max cast range.