Release that Witch Chapter 747: The Sniper

Chapter 747: The Sniper

Translator: Transn Editor: h

The night was not the perfect hour to fight.

The sun and the moon both beca invisible during the Months of Demons. Dismal light spilled across the heaving desert, faintly tracing the curve of sand hills. The area which light failed to penetrate was, in contrast, pitch dark.

Given the poor lighting condition, torches beca necessities for either attacking or defending.

When glitters of fires erged here and there in the oasis’ direction, Danny polished his clip, slipped it into the loading port and bolted.

"Attention, enemies are coming."

"I saw them."

He first mimicked Malt’s voice and then replied to himself.

In this way, he could pretend that Malt was still fighting beside him as his protector, although Malt was no longer a mber of the sniper team.

Shortly after Danny had been released from his detention and sent back to the gun battalion, Brian had co to see him and brought him a brand new flintlock.

It was exactly the one he was holding right now.

Although the new flintlock did not look any different from the bolt gun used by the sniper team, he knew at once that it was a masterpiece after weighing it in the hand.

Like longswords that bore a similar looking, so of them were casually forged by blacksmiths just for training purposes; so of them, however, were splendid weapons, whose blade could bite into flesh as easily as cutting through cheese.

The tal part of the barrel glead, its surface as smooth as a maid’s skin. The joints were all polished like a work of art. The gun was perfectly molded without any prickly feelings.

What surprised Danny most was the monocular telescope on the top. The lens was engraved with two straight, crisscrossed fine lines, the intersection of which exactly aligned with the place where a bullet should land.

Danny did not understand why the distant target, which had been blurry and tiny earlier, beca clear and visible instantly when he looked through the telescope. This ant that the shooting range of the gun had, in a way, been extended. During the testing shooting session, Danny had further verified his theory. He had noticed that the new flintlock was much more accurate than an ordinary bolt gun. When there was no or little wind, he could successfully hit the humanoid target 500 ters away with a headshot at an accuracy of 90%.

When he had learned that the weapon had been specially made for him by His Majesty, Danny had almost burst into tears. Despite his misconduct, he was still given high hopes by his Majesty and was even granted the power to freely choose his shooting positions. Danny knew he had nothing to pay back the king for his benevolence but his own life.

When Brian had asked him whether he wanted to select a protector, however, Danny had declined the offer imdiately.

He had his own protector already.

It was this gun.

And Malt.

Like his commander had predicted, more firelights erged and they covered the desert like fallen stars. Before every battle, the superiors would usually disclose the operation intention and operation target to each team in detail so that soldiers would know when they should expect to see the battle end.

For example, the cannon unit would lit bonfires at their rampart and fire every seven minutes or so to entice enemies to start counterattacks, for the purpose of bleeding off strength from the watchdog clan and thereby preparing for the general attack at dawn. The lit battlent would attract enemies’ attention, whereas controlling the firing rate was to avoid a fierce, swift bombard that tended to directly disperse the roving enemies.

Of course, Danny knew the artillery battalion did not have the capability to control their firing rate.

Soldiers from the artillery battalion had no idea how many resources were available for them. They were all arrogant, incompetent fighters who probably could not even transport basic equipnt to the desert had the witch nad Hummingbird not helped them. Compared with those useless idiots, soldiers from the gun battalion were much more productive. Each soldier in the gun battalion was responsible for carrying both weapons and ammunition.

There were a dozen carriages in total, over half of which carried cannon and machine gun shells. One wooden box was only able to house two howitzers. If they fought in the sa way as they did during the exercise, two Longsong cannons would consu all the ammunition they took with them in an hour. If the ammunition was exhausted, they would have nothing to fire.

Although Danny admitted that the exercise was magnificent, he always thought tons of gold royals were burned each ti they fired. Unfortunately, too ignorant and conceited to understand that all the expenses incurred were actually borne by His Majesty’s treasury, the soldiers from the artillery battalion simply viewed such remarkable power as their own. If one day His Majesty stopped financially supporting them, these soldiers would be absolutely nothing compared with the gun battalion!

Therefore, the real reason for controlling the firing rate was to reserve so ammunition for future ergencies, rather than avoid the dispersion of enemies. They probably had to wait for another one or two weeks before new recruits provided supplies and new ammunition to the oasis.

When the firelight at the very front was lured into the First Army’s ambush, Danny raised his telescope.

"Norther...ly wind, relatively strong. Your target is about 700 ters away."

"Thank you."

"You’re welco."

Danny muttered to himself, his hand on the trigger.

Considering the accuracy would be greatly affected at night, he did not position himself too far away from the battlent. Instead, he decided to shoot across the field. In this way, he would not lose sight of his enemies even if they were charging forward on their warhorses.

Sand Nation was indeed barbarians good at fighting on horseback. The dispersed firelights had gradually ford a straight line by the ti they charged. The patterings of hooves drumd the ground in a chorus and gradually grew faster. anwhile, those warriors tossed the torches and drew out their swords. As their swords reflected no light, the roaring battlent of the artillery beca the most distinctive landmark Danny could see.

Just then, nurous flickers suddenly appeared at the two sandhills flanking in the shadow.

"Tuk, tuk, tuk..."

The sharp, crisp sound of machine guns mixed with the drumming horse hooves officially marked the comncent of the battle. As there was no field artillery, heavy machine guns beca the weapons with the longest shooting range. Bullets stread out and swept over the charging warriors. The desert instantly began to thunder. Danny could hear people shrieking, cursing and yelling. Shadows seed to move even faster in the darkness.

Danny paid them no mind.

His eyes were fixed on the enemy at the very front.

"500 ters. I got you."

It was not easy to locate his target at a moonless night. He could barely discern the figure of the charging enemy. However, the battle was not an exercise either. He did not have to shoot his head to score. A shot in any parts of the enemy’s body would be enough to take him down. This applied to both the mount and the rider.

Danny pulled the trigger. The barrel slightly trembled. He was exhilarated by the smoke of gunpowder.

Danny did not see where the bullet landed, nor did he notice any spilled blood. The enemy simply died with a quiver and fell off the horse.

"This is my hunting ground," thought Danny. "This is where I should stay."

"Did you just see that, Malt?"

"Don’t be distracted. Your next target is coming."

"Ah, place the matter in my hand."