Adjustments completed, taking out a mirror, leaning it against the wall, Sudel once again observed the muzzle flash—clearly, that archer hadn't noticed him.
Putting away the mirror in his hand, Sudel crouched with the gun, first replacing the gun on the window frame with his, then leaning against the corpse, slowly pushing him away.
The deceased fell to the ground, raising a bit of dust and sound.
· My lord, please hear my earnest prayer, I am your believer, I am your sword, I am your messenger.
In the scope, a bald Chaos was operating his rifle, lying on the central platform of the siege tower. Although it was too far to clearly see his face, Sudel still saw the tattered military uniform bearing the shoulder patch of the Sharpshooter unit.
He was the comrade lost in that woodland.
Looking at the wound on his head, Sudel sighed silently... forgive me, old pal, I couldn't bring you back.
Pulled the bolt, ejected a spare bullet, then pushed the bolt back in.
