"His true form..." Bronx mumbled as he'd watch the black mass roar and pull his way out, the amalgamation of bodies pouring through like it was bleeding, a personalized factory of the dead, the humanoids lumbering forward as fast as they could. Bronx would shoot down as much as possible, switching between bullets with each reload, trapping half within barrels and utilizing the flammable substance to explode and break apart more of the forest, the fires spreading faster and faster. Roars of pain can be heard, but the beast kept going, as the Sniper would be forced to scale up the trees and see the wave of bodies crashing down.
Each one of them screamed for the death of the King of Nihil, each one desperate to end such a life. They were less like people and more like hands, a rant born from the traumatized mind the Living Tar was forced to endure. "HE KILLED MY FAMILY! ALL OF THEM! IN ONE SWIFT SKEWER!!! I NEED HIS HEAD ON A PIKE!" One would say.
"I WANT HIM HANGED! I WANT HIM DRAWN AND QUARTERED! I WANT HIS EXISTENCE ERASED FROM HISTORY!!" Another screeched.
"I WILL NOT REST UNTIL I SEE HIM BE FESTERED WITH RATS AND RIPPED APART ALIVE WITH THEM! DEATH TO THE KING! DEATH TO THE KING!!" A third howled.
They were scrambling around like roaches as the maw raised, the fire quick enveloping and burning the Tar, letting its smoke grow its own size so as to make its humanoids able to fly, the very smoke as a platform to float around. Bronx can't help but feel a twinge of regret seeing such torment, but at the end of the day, it is a war. Someone has to die, less the war wouldn't be a thing in the first place. He'd load up both his gun and the wounds around him as he descends, letting the humanoids take sight and rush him on all sides. He'd spin himself as he'd begin to fire, letting the bullets break away and carry the explosive rounds, a sphere of shells that would detonate upon the slightest of contact, as well as one bullet to hide from the chaos in order to get a clean head shot.
KA-BOOOOOOOOM!!!! BANG!!!
Direct hit. Even though the Sniper's body was damaged, He remained standing, watching the hole he punctured through the beast's eye. However, such rage still kept going, nay, it worsened. The humanoids changed shape entirely into demonic vestiges, whilst the flames would pour down to his mouth and blast away in a raging inferno, aiming to cook the forests outside, with Bronx at the middle of it all. He'd be forced to back away, making heavy distance, hurting himself through the flames in order to evade a worse fate by the vestiges, as he'd load his gun again. "He's only getting stronger. My Contract bullets are acting as his fuel. His suffering is being his strength. I need to put that to rest if I want to beat him." He'd say to himself, before getting a strong grip from within him.
Not a grip at his heart, but his soul. His essence of being.
A figure would appear behind Bronx, one that he recognized all too well. A stout imp-like demon, a mask for a face, and a black suit with red stripes, looking like a pin-up for mafiosos and gangsters. He'd even come with a personalized red fedora, complete with a white feather and diamonds across the ridge. The smile cracks wider from the mask as he speaks, almost like a speaker in giving out his voice rather than his mouth functioning. "Looks like you may need to go all-out then. You need to give away that soul of yours if you want to match against a mere 6th rank. How embarrassing..." It'd taunt, a snicker as the two would see the beast lumbering as large as Calibren, vocal disruptions heard in the kingdom, screams and panic as the party is disrupted from the other side. "And you just ruined their fun too with that stunt. Tsk, tsk, tsk. What a horrific showing, I expected nothing less from my sniper rifle."
"Will you shut up? I know what I'm doing." Despite Bronx wishing to dismiss the Devil, he knows fully well that he is right. With strength like this and a massive reach through the humanoids, he doesn't have any real options left aside from his Final Gambit. The problem though lies in its cost. He offers that soul up, his life becomes immediately forfeit. While he'd rather die early in order to not sacrifice any more people to such hellish hands, the last thing he wants is to die while having mistakes like this left unaccounted for.
"Do you now? Then tell me, what exactly do you plan on doing to stop this one? Your contract bullets are more of a boon than a burden, and your explosive rounds would end the world. I doubt that Barrel Magic style would even help you in this situation either. It's hopeless unless you offer that soul to Me."
Ignoring such words, he'd be quick on going through the three rounds. An idea would spur in his mind as he'd see the Barrel Magic and Contract Magic in tandem. A risk, but one he is willing to take before throwing in the towel and abiding by the Devil's words. He'd rush in and load up both shots, dodging each and every humanoid, using them as footstools to get himself up, while shooting his way to the sky in order to get a perfect view. The Beast howled and launched a mass array of bodies, letting them swirl around and try to capture the likes of Bronx in mid-air, in an effort to rip him in pieces before he can fire his shot. Even with such a swarm, the Sniper could care less, as he'd take aim and shoot the bullet, the shell carrying both styles, catching the smog and sending it back.
BANG!!
Another direct hit.