Infinite Range: The Sniper Mage - Chapter 733: Ants Under a Blue Sky

Chapter 733: 733: Ants Under a Blue Sky

“Go back. The Sunforge barrier will not break. You have no chance.”

Bellara glanced over her shoulder with a smile. Simply standing there, she was a naked blade, all edge and chill. The pressure rolling off her made spines lock and hearts seize.

“Again.”

Cold light burst in Cain’s eyes. Demon wings spread wide, he looked every inch an undying emperor of the dark. An ebon-gold blood blade curled into his palm, and his sky-splitting roar made the entire instance tremble.

“Wilds-series Artifact.”

Orson’s brow twitched. The sword was eight parts the God-Emperor’s blade he’d seen before, the same metal as his Supreme Arcane Blade.

“Kill.”

The Immortal Lord’s voice snapped like ice. Four Type VI Destroyers mimicked Cain’s form and charged with him straight at the Sunforge Sacred Executor.

Orson watched, eyes bright. The Destroyers read Cain’s kit and opened with S-rank technique Dragonbane. Five Dragonbanes in concert, SS-tier at least. Cain was wild and arrogant, but he didn’t dare hold back; he went all in on the opener.

Five black arcs webbed the air, dense enough to blot sight. With Cain’s attack power over 130,000 and the Destroyers not far behind, if those percent-execute blades all landed, even a god would bleed.

“I spared you out of no kindness.”

Bellara lifted her face to the oncoming blades. The soft smile died.

“Anyone who falls into this Exile Domain from outside, I treat the same. You’re counted as children of Sunforge.”

“If you feel crushed, helpless, in pain, that’s on you.”

She shifted her weight half a step left. In a space where there was no room, where the net should have carved her in strips, the black blades whistled past her sleeve.

Miss.

Miss.

Miss.

“This woman is… too sure of herself.”

Orson couldn’t help it. He could, in theory, do the same. But theory was theory. No one risked a lethal trade like that unless they knew the gap was a canyon and their opponent a child.

Bellara didn’t even call a skill. She simply set her hand on three feet of green steel and poked. The sword light was so clean it seemed solid. A Destroyer split at the waist, dead before the sparks died. Its frame crackled, collapsed, and went into repair.

“Too strong. So this is a lesser god.”

Orson’s breath shortened, sweat prickling at his brow, but the warfire in his eyes howled higher. If he could put this woman down, he’d have earned the right to march on the gods.

“Divine Domain: God-Demon Douqi.”

Cain didn’t panic. He roared, drove the godblade into the ground, and the earth bucked. Hundreds of black streams of fighting qi geysered up and drowned Bellara’s quarter of the world.

Body-breaker.

Armor-breaker.

Blade-breaker.

The debuff text flew like hail. Nineteen layers, each with a different bite. Orson’s gut tightened. Cain’s domain stacked heavy, each layer shaving power away.

“Impressive. Just not against me.”

Bellara sighed. Orson stared. She lifted that pale hand and set it in the boiling currents, even rubbed both palms together as if warming them.

This was douqi that would strip a god’s flesh from bone, and she was using it like a campfire.

Damage Reduction.

God-Demon Infusion 20,000.

Breaker effects: immune.

Breaker effects: immune.

The numbers floated like an insult. A so-called god-tier domain ticking under a hundred thousand? And every debuff smothered?

How do you fight that? How did you ever think a focus fire would work?

Orson’s eyes narrowed. For a heartbeat a regal azure war-plate ghosted around her. Of course. A handmaiden of the Dragon Ancestor wasn’t native to this world. Gear and relics didn’t bind her. The plate drank Cain’s domain and left him spitting dust.

“You have one minute. I need to rest.”

Bellara’s tone was almost bored.

Cain’s face was iron. He hadn’t expected less. The armor she wore was above god-tier; faux-divine domains bounced off like rain.

“Immortal,” he pulsed across the link. His half-metal body, the neural web, the Immortal Lord—one spark, one thought.

“Reading skill… scan complete.”

The voice behind Bellara was as cold as hers. A second Bellara, the Immortal Lord in her shape, stepped from nothing and cut the air.

“Forbidden Immortal Art: Heavenly Dao Sword.”

Bellara’s brows rose. “Curious. You can copy my Forbidden now?”

The Immortal Lord’s blade shook; her hair lifted in that pressure. Twelve dragon-sized blades of qi fell like comets.

Bellara’s eyes lit with odd light. She slipped into knight stance. A giant shield flared, blinding. The twelve roared down and she met them head-on.

The world fractured. Lava spouted. The end of days came and went.

A crack. The SS-tier hammer blow hit full on. Bellara stepped through the smoke trailing a breath of white. Her look cooled; she tossed aside a shattered god-shield.

Orson whistled under his breath. A god-tier knight’s shield, treated like tin. She didn’t even glance at it. The scraps alone would make millionaires.

Light flashed. A new shield fell into her hand, the God-U Scar Rampart. Orson had to laugh. This was how a real whale played.

Bellara cut back to warrior, eyes on the Immortal Lord, the smile small and cutting. “I never called myself a god. In your eyes, I am one.”

She twitched her wrist.

Cain’s face drained. He snatched the Immortal Lord and fled. Bellara rose like a feather on still air, spread her arms, dropped a finger.

“Forbidden Immortal Art: Heavenly Dao Sword.”

She was ruthless. Orson’s jaw went slack.

Twelve dragons, each several times the Immortal Lord’s version, fell. Light dimmed and flared in the Ninety-ninth Heaven. The dungeon itself groaned like it would tear.

In a single sweep, four Destroyers evaporated, nothing but glittering shrapnel. Cain lost half his body and tumbled to the portal. He stared at the stump, then back, just in time to see the Immortal Lord pinned through the throat. A flick of the wrist. No blood, just a head tossed and caught and let fall.

“Not bad. As children of Sunforge, your growth surprises me.”

Scarlet dress whispering, the long sword on her back, Bellara walked toward the Tiamat statue and sat with a smile.

“Come once a month. Perhaps one day you’ll let me feel a real fight.”

“Why didn’t you act? Together we could have killed her.” Cain scooped up the Immortal Lord’s body and rounded on Orson, who had watched from the edge.

“Together.”

Orson couldn’t help it—he snorted, bitter. “She was humoring you. If she wanted you dead, she’d kill you a thousand times. It wouldn’t matter how many resurrections you brought.”

Cain’s jaw worked. He said nothing. Then he turned and fled the instance, broken and silent.

Orson shook his head. Even unsealed, his odds against the Sunforge Sacred Executor wouldn’t break twenty percent. And that assumed she kept her divine domain holstered.

He didn’t rush out. Instead he picked a bare patch of ground a few kilometers from Bellara and sat.

“Why aren’t you leaving? Hoping to learn from me?” Bellara opened her eyes a fraction, puzzlement and a hint of disdain. “The Great King says I’m very stupid. I can’t teach anyone.”

“You flatter yourself. I’m here to grind.”

“Go to the lower heavens.”

Orson tilted his head. “I don’t eat leftovers.”

He closed his eyes and waited for the next wave of spawns.

After a while, Bellara couldn’t help herself. “Men and women should not share a chamber. Leave.”

Orson stared, speechless. This entire expanse, and she called it a chamber?

“Relax,” he said, deadpan. “I have a wife and child. I have no interest in older women. I hope you can understand.”