Warlord: King of All Clans

Due to years of war, a large amount of farmland within the territory of Osluden was abandoned, and villages were dilapidated.

Vast wheat fields were covered in grass, turning into endless grasslands.

The army led by Earl Macdonald was gathering from the north and south, with hundreds and thousands of soldiers trampling the sea of grass every minute, rushing to the battlefield.

On a grassy hill, a clump of grass moved slightly, revealing a pair of hawk-like eyes.

The transcendent marksman Bjorn lay prone on the hill, his green ghillie suit completely concealing his burly figure, blending him into the hill.

Resisting the subconscious urge to stand up and reload, Bjorn grabbed the bolt and gently pulled it back, ejecting a brass cartridge thicker than his thumb.

In front of him, a rifle nearly two meters long was mounted on a tripod on the hill.

The appearance of this rifle was very similar to the previous Virgil Generation I rifled gun, still with a caliber of nearly two centimeters, a heavy gun body, and a slender barrel.

The biggest difference was the absence of a flintlock mechanism and the addition of a scope.

Its barrel was covered with dense runes, including vibration-reducing runes, stability runes to reinforce the barrel, and a total of seven or eight small magic arrays integrated together, powered by a magic crystal on the stock.

This was the first bolt-action rifle developed by the Midgard team—the Undertaker.

This was also a bolt-action rifle specifically tailored for Bjorn; only a transcendent marksman like him could withstand its enormous recoil.

Because there was not enough craftsmanship to produce muzzle brakes and complex shock absorption systems, the Undertaker's recoil was equivalent to a warhammer blow; ordinary soldiers could shatter their shoulders if they were not careful.

An "Undertaker" cost more than a thousand gold coins, requiring a high-level transcendent gunsmith from Midgard to create it using an elven alchemical platform.

Its bullets were equally expensive, requiring senior alchemists to handcraft them, using the latest tungsten-core armor-piercing copper-jacketed bullets, filled with smokeless gunpowder, and ignited by a primer at the base.

To increase the power of the gunpowder, a small amount of magic stone crystal dust was also added.

Each of its materials was currently a substance worth more than gold, coupled with the difficulty of production, the comprehensive cost of a single bullet approached ten gold coins.

Bjorn only had fifteen such bullets, so he could only prioritize targeting hostile mid- to high-level transcendents and enemy commander-level targets.

Even using them to kill transcendent armored knights, Bjorn felt it was not cost-effective.

However, the transcendent perception of high-level transcendents was very terrifying; not to mention the slow-trajectory bows and crossbows and smoothbore bullets, even the supersonic bullets of the Virgil rifled gun could be keenly captured.

Even magic-type transcendents, under the transformation of transcendent magic, had bodies as strong as metal and iron; even without magic shields, the Virgil rifled gun could only wound their flesh.

To snipe a high-level transcendent, in addition to the Undertaker, the cooperation of teammates was also needed.

Gerald's role was to help him break through the defenses of high-level archmages and attract their attention.

The Undertaker's bullets had a muzzle energy of over ten thousand joules, and the bullet speed was twice the speed of sound, enough to penetrate five layers of transcendent plate armor within a kilometer.

If one had to compare it to a modern rifle, it would be equivalent to a Mauser anti-tank rifle from the late World War I.

Not to mention ordinary high-level transcendents, even the Fire Cloud Cthulhu would be afraid.

After firing a shot, Bjorn felt as if his shoulder had been solidly hit by an enemy with a two-handed warhammer. He shook his numb shoulder, picked up the fifty-pound "Undertaker," quickly disposed of the traces he had left behind, and then quickly withdrew.

A few minutes later, seven or eight transcendent scouts rushed over, searching everywhere on the hill, but found nothing.

On the main battlefield, Gerald's face was also pale as he watched the headless corpse of the high-level archmage collapse, blood gushing from his chest.

The bullet had flown past him!

Even with a foot of separation, he could feel the strong wind piercing his ears, like a knife cutting.

If Bjorn had aimed slightly off, it would have been him shattered by the bullet.

The power of the Undertaker was so great that even with prior mental preparation, seeing the actual combat effect at this time made this high-level swordsman tremble with fear.

Even paler than Gerald's face were the faces of the several mid- to low-level mages who were maintaining the sandstorm alongside the high-level archmage.

Seeing the sudden death of their commander, the little mages couldn't understand what had happened. They didn't even know where the bullet had come from.

With their minds scattered, the sandstorm spell completely failed to maintain, and the flying sand and gravel in the front battlefield quickly subsided.

As the sand and grass clippings scattered, the figures of both sides' musketeers were revealed again.

The Werewolf King Akhan, next to him was a barding warhorse with its belly torn open, lying weakly on the ground, moaning.

The commander of the musketeer legion was being stepped on the chest by his large feet, struggling desperately to no avail.

"Southern Border man, die!"

In front of the commander's transcendent personal guards, Akhan raised the shotgun in his hand and blasted the head of the musketeer legion commander into slag.

The musketeer squads constantly pouring in from afar, preparing to join the battle, all stopped, and then scattered with a bang.

Godwin, who was fighting two level-8 powerhouses alone, was gradually becoming somewhat strained.

He had only recently advanced to level 9, and his own realm was not much different from his opponents. The main reason he could fight two was not because he was one level higher, but because of his outstanding combat ability.

After all, he was the strongest member of the Bebeos family, leading troops in battle for a long time, challenging heroes from all over the Northern Border.

On the other hand, one was a cardinal archbishop and the other was a revered archmage, all of whom were pampered bigwigs, and their actual combat ability was slightly lower by half a level.

The problem was that these two water-drawing level 8s were unwilling to fight Godwin to the death. The two cooperated tacitly, only responsible for holding Godwin back.

After fighting for a long time, Godwin's physical strength was severely depleted, and he began to be at a disadvantage.

At this time, a bullet flew rapidly, directly attacking the chest of the Templar Knight Eric.

At the critical moment, Eric raised his holy shield to block it, intercepting it.

On his golden shield, a dazzling golden light suddenly burst open, and a tungsten-core armor-piercing bullet penetrated an inch-thick magic alloy shield and was embedded in his golden plate armor.

Eric was shocked and retreated cautiously without hesitation.

Just as he retreated to the side of the casting mage Sapir, a strange sound came from the sky again.

Twenty twelve-pound howitzer shells landed precisely around them.

These grenades, which were enough to kill any mortal soldier, were only equivalent to the iron sand fired by a shotgun for level 8 powerhouses.

The two retreated in a disheveled manner, with bloodstains appearing on their bodies.

Godwin, not far from them, was not doing well either. The cloth robe on his body turned into rags, revealing a chest covered with dense, fine dragon scales.

Godwin looked coldly in the direction of Strong, needless to say, this must be Strong's order.

In the entire Riverbend, only Strong dared to bombard a level 9 transcendent with cannons, even Leo didn't have the guts.