The Sniper (1)
“You’ve always been quite the extraordinary fellow, haven’t you?”
Felber remarked, causing Dalen to glance sideways, puzzled by the comment.
The elder mage from the Elgaia Tower, now fully recovered, was sitting atop his horse, his eyes gleaming with a golden hue.
With a mischievous grin, he added, “Making such a lovely lady cry, no less.”
“I didn’t make her cry, old man. And that’s an invasion of privacy.”
“Haha, just a jest. How could I possibly pry into my lord’s private affairs?”
Felber chuckled heartily, gently stroking the neck of his horse. The large brown mare neighed contentedly under his touch.
Dalen, Felber, and Tommy were riding along the main road.
Their journey had begun at the headquarters of the Holy Knights, traversing the borderlands between the Kingdom of Noria and the Empire.
Felber and Tommy’s destination was Revivach, a city known for its herbalists and the place where the Witch of Ashes had recently met her end at Dalen’s hands.
Felber sought the city to stabilize his own body further.
“I’ve glimpsed a bit of your past,” Felber had confessed before they left the headquarters.
“A life of endless repetition. Time marked by battles against the end. Witnessing even a fraction of your hundreds of returns has given me much to ponder.”
It was a long-standing contemplation.
In this cycle of repetition, what was his role? How could he contribute, even slightly, to this seemingly eternal struggle?
For a mage, who naturally possessed a strong sense of self, accepting the shackles of servitude was one of the outcomes of his deliberation.
With Dalen making unprecedented progress against the end, Felber too saw hope in this cycle.
Of course, Dalen’s focus upon hearing this unexpected confession was slightly different.
“Did you happen to see a knight trailing after a witch or a muscle-bound assassin in my past lives?”
”…I didn’t see anyone like that. Are they your past companions?”
“No. Never mind. I’d appreciate it if you refrained from peeking into my past lives.”
“Understood.”
In any case, Felber’s journey to Revivach was for that reason.
To prepare for the battle against the end, he aimed to enhance his capabilities as much as possible.
In terms of magic, he had already reached the pinnacle.
To create a grand domain and pass it on was akin to being the founder of a magic tower.
However, to fully harness the power of that grand domain, even the centuries-long lifespan of a servant and the regenerative factors from Dalen’s dragon blood were insufficient.
It wasn’t that the power granted as a servant was lacking, but rather that the domain he had achieved was too powerful.
With the impending battle against the end, Felber decided to focus on researching the power of his domain while honing his own body.
Revivach, a city overflowing with as many diverse herbs as there were herbalists, was the perfect place to start.
“By the way, now that you’re a servant, has anything changed for you?” Dalen asked.
The relationship between a dragon and its servant involved granting diluted immortality and a portion of the dragon’s abilities.
In return, the servant pledged eternal loyalty to their dragon lord.
Dalen had bestowed several abilities, including regenerative factors from his dragon blood and a rapid freezing skill, upon Felber.
So, did this mean Felber’s soul was bound by some specific constraint, similar to the pact with the demon Arbor?
“Well, I’m not entirely sure. But I do feel like I should follow your orders if you give them.”
“Fascinating.”
Dalen scratched his chin. Upon focusing, he could sense a faint connection.
Unlike the connection forged through a holy relic with a demon, this one felt much more tenuous.
‘Perhaps it’s because I haven’t fully mastered the power of the dragon blood yet.’
He recalled a dream he had while still at the headquarters.
A dragon spewing fire, and a holy sword standing against its power.
Srrng.
He slightly unsheathed the sword at his waist, feeling a subtle vibration along the blade.
The tremor was so faint that even Dalen could only sense it with concentrated effort.
Since gaining the dragon’s power, the holy sword had never ceased its trembling.
‘The holy sword’s assistance must be preventing any immediate issues.’
Dalen sheathed the sword again. The help from the holy sword was certainly welcome.
However, he believed that one should not rely on an object indefinitely.
He was determined to control his own power independently.
Unlike Felber, who planned to stay in Revivach for a while, Dalen intended to return to the labyrinth city to find a solution.
“Regarding that issue, the solution might be closer than you think,” Felber mused after hearing Dalen’s intentions.
“Isn’t your friend in the backpack a young Azure Dragon?”
“Yes.”
“It might not be a complete solution, but if the dragon’s power is causing problems by manifesting unexpectedly, that little one might be able to suppress it temporarily.”
Squeak?
The backpack wriggled at Felber’s words, as if acknowledging the conversation.
Dalen tapped the bottom of the backpack and asked again, “What do you mean by that?”
“Isn’t the Azure Dragon known as the left arm armor of the Dragon God? According to legend, the reason is…”
“Hold on.”
Dalen raised his hand, bringing their conversation to a halt.
Neigh!
Tommy, who had been following behind, was startled and pulled on the reins, causing the horse’s surprised whinny to echo through the forest.
”…”
Dalen quietly observed the forest. They were in a small wooded area, just half a day’s journey from Revivach.
The proximity to the city signaled safety for travelers, but it also meant that any ambushers would be taking a significant risk.
And for someone to lie in wait in such a forest, despite the risk of encountering city guards or mercenaries escorting trade caravans, could only mean one thing.
‘A targeted ambush from the start.’
This was behavior more suited to assassins than common bandits.
“Looks like someone was expecting us.”
Dalen rested his hand on the axe at his waist.
At the edge of his vision, he sensed a faint killing intent in the forest, about a hundred meters away, shifting to confusion.
“I think they’ve spotted us!”
A masked figure whispered in a panicked voice. His shoulders trembled, and his grip weakened, as if he might drop the gun at any moment. Natasha sighed softly and spoke.
“Stop thinking like an idiot and keep your eyes forward, rookie. Who taught you to take your eyes off the target?”
“But, that barbarian just looked this way…”
“Shut up. Do you want to see your father’s face trampled under my boot when we return home?”
“Eek!”
The masked figure flinched and raised his gun again, though he didn’t seem to be aiming properly.
His eyes quivered, his shoulder alignment was poor, and the gun barrel wavered.
Natasha clicked her tongue in annoyance. Tsk. How did such a bumbling fool end up as a sniper recruit?
Couldn’t they have sent someone more competent? Despite her thoughts, she understood the higher-ups’ decision.
The current operation wasn’t meant to assassinate the target.
At best, it was to inflict damage, or even just to wound the target would be considered a success.
Given that the plan assumed the annihilation of all but her, there was no reason for the higher-ups to send elite personnel.
“Keep your eyes open. Steady your breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale again.”
Despite her irritation, Natasha wasn’t too worried.
Even a bumbling fool could kill a seasoned mercenary with the weapon they had.
‘Whether it’s a human or an orc, getting shot is the same. Unless they’re a century-old troll, what can they do?’
The weapon given to her and her squad was a rifle.
A cutting-edge firearm that used gunpowder to propel a bullet faster than sound.
This advanced weapon, born from her homeland’s skilled engineers, was leagues beyond the small cannons some countries secretly developed and used.
Except for her homeland and the southern empire, no other nation could match the rifle’s accuracy and portability.
“Are you calm now?”
”…Yes.”
“Prepare to fire.”
Feeling the rookie’s breathing gradually steady, Natasha fixed her gaze on the target beyond the forest.
Her keen eyesight picked out three men.
An elderly man dressed like a mage, a young man, and a warrior with a far superior build.
The target of the operation was that warrior. He had stopped and was scanning the area, showing a keen sense.
His rock-like muscles might even withstand a small bow. The world was vast, and there were many superhumans, so who knew?
‘Let’s see if he can stop a bullet.’
Natasha grinned. She glanced at the masked sniper and asked, “Ready?”
“Yes.”
“Then fire on three. One, two, three…”
Bang!
The gunshot echoed through the trees.
Unlike a cannon that requires lighting and waiting for it to fire, a rifle discharges the moment you pull the trigger.
Yet, the warrior did not fall. Natasha’s eyes widened in disbelief.
”…What?”
“You idiot. Can’t even hit a target.”
Natasha shook her head.
There was no doubting the power of a bullet. It was something you couldn’t block or dodge.
So if the warrior hadn’t fallen, it meant the shot had missed. Natasha quickly assessed the situation.
“Squad, prepare to fire.”
The squad members raised their rifles in unison.
In a typical ambush, this would have been a half-failure. The warrior was still standing, and the gunshot had already echoed through the forest.
But they still had seven more rifles. Including hers, that made eight.
Unlike the rookie, the more experienced squad members quickly took aim, waiting for their leader’s command.
Natasha was already staring down the sights at the warrior. His expression was calm, his gaze sweeping over them.
It was strange, seeing such a relaxed demeanor after hearing gunfire that reverberated through the woods.
But there was no time to ponder. Natasha gave the order.
“Fire at will.”
Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
The successive gunshots pierced through the forest. Even if the first shot missed, this time there was no escaping.
If even one of the eight bullets hit, it would be a success.
Though smaller than an arrowhead, a bullet’s power was more than enough to tear through muscle and shatter bone.
And for the first time since becoming a sniper, Natasha doubted her own eyes.
The warrior’s arm seemed to blur for a moment, yet he stood there, unscathed.
“What the…?”
She muttered. At that moment, the warrior’s gaze met hers.
A smirk tugged at his lips. He raised his right hand.
From his slowly opened palm, tiny metal fragments fell to the ground.
“Wha-what…”
Natasha was speechless. Then the warrior’s hand blurred again.
Crack—!
A flash, followed by a dull thud beside her. Natasha turned her stiff neck.
The rookie’s rifle was split in two, and an axe handle protruded from his forehead.
Thud.
As the rookie sniper collapsed, Natasha’s face turned pale beneath her mask.