Infinite Range: The Sniper Mage - Chapter 634 - 634: 634 The Peerless Spirit of the Immortals
For seven days straight, Orson had been locked in brutal combat against Heaven Demons, body and mind stretched to the brink. He hardly slept, barely rested.
Nearby, Aeloria panted heavily, lying on the ground as she licked a wound on her wing.
Beneath her elegant neck ran a savage, meter-wide gash that cut to the bone—left by her melee with the Venomfire Scorpion King. Even after three or four days, it still festered with a nauseating stench.
The Venomfire Scorpion King wasn’t technically of royal Heaven Demon blood, lacking any King’s Authority.
But its real combat power far exceeded that of Infinite Dimensions King-class NPCs, and its advanced venom was especially sinister.
Once poisoned, even Aeloria’s Death Body Domination could only restore her health—it couldn’t purge the toxin.
She was forced to endure its full ten-day duration.
Boom!
A deep thud echoed as a shadowy, hooded reaper-like entity—an Abyss Shade Lord—finally collapsed.
Orson let out a long breath, tension easing from his shoulders.
“Is that it?”
He leaned heavily on his Supreme Arcane Blade.
Beneath his feet, Heaven Demon corpses formed grotesque hills. Black blood trickled down their slopes.
He looked up.
For dozens of kilometers in every direction, mountains of corpses sprawled across the landscape.
If any other adventurer saw this scene, their spine would run cold.
They’d know at once: this was the true Demon Lord standing here.
Orson’s once-fair face was haggard, shadowed by dark stubble. His skin had gone corpse-pale.
More than a dozen wounds crisscrossed his body. His eyes carried a murderous gleam that made him seem like a completely different person.
The sleeve of his War Supreme robe fluttered in the wind—torn away days ago.
Six days prior, while resting in a cave, the strongest of the Abyss Shades had launched a sudden ambush.
That strike was on par with a Godboss’s might, nearly killing Orson outright.
Aeloria had shattered her bone sword saving him, barely escaping with him by force.
But Orson had paid the price of his right arm.
That was the difference between this fused world and Infinite Dimensions.
Lose a limb here, and without a powerful cleric to restore it through holy magic, you simply had to endure the bleeding and damage.
Body Domination couldn’t regrow severed limbs.
Losing his dominant arm impacted him massively.
Wielding a staff with his off-hand felt awkward, and it even reduced his max health.
Only dying and reviving through a resurrection item could regrow it.
He carried plenty of Rootless Water, but these sacred relics had long cooldowns.
He couldn’t gamble on getting caught without them.
Splat!
Just as Orson finally lowered his guard, he looked down in shock—
A blade had pierced clean through his torso and lifted him off the ground.
“You will not take victory from my hands… human,” rasped a voice like a devil’s hiss.
“You…”
Orson’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“No!!”
Aeloria roared in horror, unable to accept her cruel master dying before her eyes.
The Abyss Shade Lord—its health once emptied—had somehow risen again.
“The Genesis Dragon Seal is mine! I will rival even the King of the Void! Hahahaha…”
Floating there, its twin ghost-flame eyes gleamed with vicious triumph as it cackled at Orson.
“Long… I have long forgotten how long it has been.
But you’ve opened my eyes, human.
I name you the strongest of your kind in this world.”
Its cloak fluttered with an eerie screech.
“And of course… the last of them.”
“No. No, you’re the last Heaven Demon here.”
Just a heartbeat ago, Orson’s face had looked desperate. Now, suddenly, he smiled.
His body, skewered through the gut, did not bleed at all. Instead, it turned into a swirl of golden particles that drifted away on the wind.
Awakened Hurricane Spear!
The Goddess of Wind roared.
Wild gales surged forth.
Critical Hit!
The Abyss Shade Lord’s freshly recovered billion HP dropped instantly to zero. Its ghost-flames sputtered violently—then died out.
“You killed Abyss Shade Lord. Merit +120,000!”
“Your level has risen to 105!”
“Your total adventurer merit: 3.112 billion!”
Orson stepped out from behind a pile of corpses, a smirk on his lips.
The one that died? Just a golden clone.
“Damn good acting job. That scream almost fooled me into thinking I really died. Come on, give me five!”
He lifted his remaining hand for a high five.
Aeloria just shot him a dull look, ignoring his playful gesture and returning to licking her wounds.
Orson awkwardly lowered his hand, shrugging.
“3.1 billion merit. I’ll head home and trade it straight up for God rank. That’s gonna feel nice.”
Seven days of hell. He’d paid dearly—every potion in his pack was gone.
As for his instant noodles and hot dogs? Those ran out three days ago.
He’d spent a whole day gnawing on Heaven Demon flesh before finally deciding he’d rather starve.
But the harvest had been monstrous.
His levels, merit, and Soul Seal skills had all maxed out to master level.
With 36 million health and a range over 100 kilometers, he was basically a one-man raid boss.
His Supreme Series Artifacts had all synced to match his level of 105, with proficiencies capped at 120.
All that remained was to raise his level and gather the last quasi-god and god-tier souls. Then he’d fully unlock them as true Artifacts.
He pulled out the Genesis Dragon Seal again and waited over an hour.
Silence.
Fishing for Heaven Demons had wiped them clean.
It wouldn’t be long before Era of Immortals became a dead world.
The adventurer descendants here—without food—were doomed to unspeakable ends.
He had tried communicating before, but they’d been too deeply twisted.
There was no humanity left to appeal to. They simply drifted toward the World Tree’s remains, likely on some primal belief that BlazeKing might still shelter them.
Without the Heaven Demons feeding them, they’d all soon die of starvation.
Perhaps, for them, that was mercy.
After resting through the night, Orson awoke from meditation, mounted Aeloria, and flew toward the ruins of the World Tree.
“You’ve discovered Adventurer City: Heaven Dragon City!”
Golden letters unfolded across his vision.
He looked down, awe stirring in his chest.
An immense city lay in ruin, vast beyond imagining. Even shattered, even littered with adventurer corpses, it dwarfed Forever City many times over.
And there stood the World Tree itself, towering like a divine mountain, whispering of former glory.
“Quest update!”
“Proceed to Radiant Shuttle Hall and accept the final trial!”
He followed the map’s marker to a palace beneath the World Tree—built in the unmistakable style of US.
Hundreds of towering crimson pillars held up the vast structure, each etched with Celestial Winged Dragons so vivid they seemed ready to leap from the stone.
A defiant grandeur radiated into the sky, making Orson’s heart shiver.
“The spirit of the immortals… truly peerless.”
Inside were ornamental rocks and ponds, elegant manors neatly arranged by the hundreds.
He closed his eyes, almost hearing echoes of laughter—imagining the old heroes of Radiant Shuttle drinking deep and never leaving sober.
It was the fearless pride of the Era of Immortals adventurers.
A majesty that had once ruled the world.
Then he froze, hand tightening on Aeloria’s shoulder.
A chill crawled up his spine.
Near a pond, he spotted something alive—koi of all colors drifting lazily by. Beside them lay a bowl of fish feed.
Someone had been here recently.
The grounds were spotless, far too pristine compared to the desolation elsewhere.
Was it… him?
Orson couldn’t tell if this being would be friend or foe.
He silently drew his Supreme Arcane Blade. Aeloria readied herself to fight.
Creeeak…
A door swung open a hundred meters ahead. The grand entrance to Radiant Shuttle Hall.
Orson’s skin broke out in goosebumps.
A handsome young man stepped out, holding a cup, smiling warmly at him.
“Orson, you’ve come.”
“Wait… me?”
Orson stood there gaping.
This figure didn’t resemble the terrifying final boss he’d braced for at all.
“How is my son?” the young man asked, smile gentle as a spring breeze.
“My… your son?”
Orson was completely baffled. Sure, he was an orphan—but he couldn’t just randomly start calling people dad.
The young man’s brow furrowed in mild worry.
“Nifex. His mother named him Nifex. You haven’t met him?”
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