The rifle's barrel grew scorching hot.
Leech tossed the gun directly onto the ground. When the barrel touched the weeds, they were instantly scorched, sending up a puff of smoke.
'The gunpowder is too powerful. Even a barrel forged by an Extraordinary blacksmith can't take this abuse. I'll need to use higher-quality, rarer materials, or this sniper rifle will be scrap metal after just a few shots.'
Even if it could only be fired a few times, such terrifying, ultra-long-range killing power was enough to make any warmonger go mad for it.
It was certain that once word of today's battle spread, other nobles would hesitate when they saw Leech on the battlefield. They would think twice about taking the field personally, and they definitely wouldn't risk parading around in his line of sight.
One wrong move, and they might not even have a head left.
Leech rubbed his sore, aching arm.
He pulled the Dragon-Slaying Sword from the ground and vaulted onto Rocket.
