Infinite Range: The Sniper Mage - Chapter 632 - 632: 632 Can’t Kill Them All! There’s Just No End!
“Your Tiamat: Chaos Cauldron! has gained a new effect!”
[Tiamat: Chaos Cauldron! (Damaged)]
Quality: Godly Relic (severely damaged)
Level: None
Class: None
Effect 1: Reenact the many legends of the Chaos Cauldron! (dungeons) and gather the will of all beings.
Currently available past event: ‘The Greed of the Primordial Titans.’ Cooldown: 30 days.
…
Effect 2: [Chaos Fusion], combines multiple materials of equal quality to restructure them, with a chance to produce something of higher quality. (New)
Effect 3: [Soil of Chaos], the cauldron absorbs the essence of sun and moon, yielding soil every thousand years that can trigger evolution in plant-based items.
Uses remaining: 10/10.
“So… you’re giving me a pile of dirt?”
Orson stared at the Chaos Cauldron! floating before him. It had begun to glow faintly with the glory it once held.
The cauldron was now a warm golden red, wreathed in curling streams of chaotic mist sucked in from all around.
Inside, patches of brilliantly colored soil formed, looking almost like iridescent sand.
“Interesting. Could evolve plants, huh?”
His eyes narrowed. His mind instantly jumped to the Tree of Rebirth he’d planted on Celestial Fortress.
Thanks to Dancing Giant Boobs’ careful cultivation—plus the combined effects of Rootless Water and Heaven’s Soil relics—the little sapling had grown seven or eight meters tall, trunk thick as a waist.
It occasionally bore divine fruit, boosting stats decently well; after its evolution, each Life Fruit gave +3000 health.
But since there was a limit to how many times one could consume them, even evolved fruits weren’t all that appealing to top-tier guild adventurers. Grinding dungeons and slaughtering monsters to stack Soul Seals was far more efficient.
So most of the divine fruit ended up given to life players for survivability.
“I’ll have to try it when I get back,” Orson decided.
He couldn’t stop thinking about that towering World Tree of Era of Immortals. Even without knowing what it did, he’d coveted it from the moment he saw it.
Soon after, he and Crimson Lizard King rested up, got themselves into top form, and set off again.
Twin suns dipped below the horizon, blood-red night once more blanketing the land.
“Stop right there.”
Orson pointed toward a snow-capped peak that soared ten thousand meters into the sky.
“You’ve discovered Soul Sever Peak!”
The caption unfurled before him. Halfway up the mountain lay the ruins of a massive city, but not a single sign of life stirred there.
Orson glanced around. The vantage point was perfect—hundreds of miles of flat plains spread out in every direction.
High ground, low approach. Perfect for raw firepower.
Basic rule of being a turret mage.
“Alright then, let’s see what you’ve got.”
He smiled, stepping through the deep snow to the mountain’s summit. There, he pulled out the Dragon Seal from his pack.
Standing aside, he simply waited to see what would happen.
About five minutes passed before the tourmaline-like seal began to turn transparent.
Ancient draconic runes lit up within it.
Whoosh!
Suddenly, a beam of aurora shot out of the Dragon Seal, like a flare rocket streaking up into the sky. The clouds above were set ablaze in golden light.
It was as if a lonely, silent world had just been pierced by a glorious beacon—an astonishing sight.
“This thing… really is bright,” Orson muttered with a bitter grin, squinting against the intense glare.
He hadn’t expected it to be quite this flashy.
It was like standing in a dark forest full of monsters and yelling, “I’m right here—come eat me if you can!”
“Warning!”
“[Genesis Dragon Seal] exposed for extended duration. Catastrophic consequences likely. Store it in an alternate space immediately!”
“Warning!”
…
Red alerts flashed across his vision again and again, but he stood his ground.
“Come on. Let’s clean out this graveyard.”
He ruffled Aeloria’s hair. She shot him an irritated look, then shifted into her draconic form and circled Soul Sever Peak on alert.
“You’ve used a medium [Bloodthirst Potion]. Lifesteal improved!”
“You’ve used the relic [Mana Wellspring Holy Grail]. Mana regeneration increased!”
“You’ve used the relic [Ancient Pontiff’s Scroll]. Skill cooldowns improved!”
“You’ve used a high-grade [Destruction Elixir]. Attack power +20%, damage reduction down 10%, defense -1000.”
…
Lights of every color danced over Orson’s body as he chugged potions and popped relics to stack buffs.
Farming Heaven Demons was a different beast from slaughtering Infinite Dimensions monsters. He couldn’t afford to take chances.
Before long, a cold wind swept over him, sending a chill down his spine.
Wails and sobs echoed wherever the Dragon Seal’s glow reached, like he was standing in hell itself. Countless specters clawed their way out of the darkness.
Orson’s eyes snapped wide. He peered closer.
[Wild Siren: Level 80]
[Low-Tier Heaven Demon]
[Health: 5 million]
[Attack: 9,000~14,000]
[Skills: Rapid Flight, Giant Wind Blades, Evasive Strike]
…
[Shadow Basilisk: Level 90]
[Low-Tier Heaven Demon]
[Health: 9 million]
[Attack: 15,000]
[Skills: Burrow Assault, Extreme Hardening, Venomous Shatter]
There were easily hundreds of thousands of these low-tier Heaven Demons—a force that could wipe out an entire nation back on merged Earth.
The Genesis Dragon Seal exerted a fatal pull on these creatures, which had been stuck in this world, always driven by instinct to seek evolution.
Orson’s expression hardened. He suspected higher-tier Heaven Demons were lurking, watching carefully.
The proof was simple: every one of these was a low-tier breed, fodder fit only for node commanders to herd around.
He saw barely any mid-tier types like stone demons or succubi.
“If you’re hiding… stay hidden. Pray I don’t catch you,” he muttered.
Roar!
Crimson Lizard King was practically gleeful. Her ancient memories held a hatred for Heaven Demons that rivaled her loathing of other dragons.
Death God’s Breath!
Black flames exploded outward, tearing up earth and sky. Hundreds of Heaven Demons went flying, then her sweeping wings turned the ground into a field of charred corpses.
Whisper of the Wind!
Orson’s hands glowed cyan as he gripped his staff, hammering basic attacks into the densest clumps of enemies.
Boom boom boom!
Critical Hit!
Crit -3 million!
Crippling Strike -26 million!
Chaos Chain triggered.
With a sound like dragging iron, dozens of Heaven Demons were locked in place—then instantly blown to pieces.
With his overwhelming range, these low-tier Heaven Demons were nothing but walking meat. They couldn’t threaten him at all.
“You’ve gained +10 adventurer merit!”
“You’ve gained +15 adventurer merit!”
…
The battle log raced by. Massive XP and merit flooded in. His Soul Seal mastery soared.
Merit was awarded by monster strength. Killing higher-tier Heaven Demons gave vastly more.
Taking down a low-tier might give just 10-20 points, while even the weakest high-tier was worth at least 10,000.
But quantity could spark quality. If he slaughtered enough, he could still reach the top.
Orson avoided flashy spells, sticking with Chaos Magic Ball to clear the field. Its Ethereal Echoes triggers made for steady small-area AoE.
Given his current power, he could fight even three of those ancient generals at once. Against these small fry, it was a total massacre.
Not that Heaven Demons were inherently weak—it was just that he’d never played by mortal rules.
With a Celestial Winged Dragon tanking up front, drawing almost all the aggro, plus Orson himself twenty kilometers back acting like a god-tier artillery turret, it was no contest.
The terrifying tide of Heaven Demons rushed in, only to be turned into a tower defense stage by Orson.
They could barely reach within twenty kilometers of Soul Sever Peak.
That was their limit—not his.
With his Supreme Soul Disc clones and God-Emperor Earrings in hand, he could press forward or pull back as needed, unshakable.
After half an hour, nearly a hundred thousand Heaven Demons lay dead.
But their numbers were effectively endless. No matter how many he slaughtered, more just kept coming, thicker than ever.
Orson’s hands were starting to go numb from hurling spell after spell.
But there was still no sign of it stopping.
