God-Tier Extraction Talent: Reincarnated in a Game-like World! Chapter 507: The Strength of a Monarch
Previously on God-Tier Extraction Talent: Reincarnated in a Game-like World!...
Within the king’s chamber, Gabriel stiffened completely.
His body refused to respond. It seemed a colossal entity had materialized behind him, while an unseen mountain crashed onto his shoulders. Such immense pressure made even inhaling a laborious task.
Icy sweat trickled down his temple. His thoughts raced wildly, and for an instant, that aura behind him evoked memories of Sutre. The identical sensation of powerlessness resurfaced, that overwhelming gap rendering all else insignificant.
Gabriel gritted his teeth. Simply remaining upright caused his innards to quiver. Moments later, blood surged up his throat, trickling in a thin line from his mouth to the floor.
He yearned to shift.
...He truly did.
Yet his limbs seemed pinned down, with fingers merely twitching faintly. His Undead Heart struggled to maintain balance, but this time, even that fearsome passive ability was overpowered.
The king had yet to utter a word.
From his spot, Gabriel couldn’t discern the man’s features sharply. All he perceived was that terrifying aura at his back, utterly quiet and commanding, akin to a sovereign requiring no validation.
His breaths grew labored.
The unassuming room now resembled a cage. The basic bed, lone drawer, and bare walls no longer appeared humble. Instead, they evoked the lair of a beast demanding nothing from existence, for the world knelt at his command.
He compelled his mind to focus and swiftly accessed his status screen. Without delay, he allocated every one hundred available attribute points to Strength.
The values shifted immediately, boosting his Strength to six hundred and thirty.
A rush of power coursed through him, tensing the muscles in his limbs. For a fleeting moment, he believed this surge might shatter his restraints.
But it failed.
Gabriel’s face twisted.
Despite power far beyond mortal limits, he could barely budge. This outcome stunned him more than anything prior.
Some special ability at work?
Or merely the king’s sheer aura?
He couldn’t discern.
Silence persisted from the king, intensifying the terror of the pressure. It felt as though Gabriel wasn’t even worthy of address.
Bitterness swelled in Gabriel’s heart.
How could the world crumble with such titans present? Why did catastrophe strike in his previous life despite rulers of this caliber?
Fury ignited within him.
That such might couldn’t avert doom filled Gabriel with profound frustration. Yet that rage solidified his resolve.
If such figures couldn’t preserve the world, he’d endure through his own path.
His legs shook fiercely as a snap echoed from beneath.
The strain alone began fracturing Gabriel’s bones. The ground under his boots remained unchanged, yet his frame crumbled internally.
Abruptly, motion stirred behind him.
For the first time since detecting the silhouette, Gabriel noted the king’s shift.
Fresh blood seeped from his lips as he rasped through clenched teeth.
"Burrow Shift."
In a flash, he sank into the earth and rematerialized near the window.
The chamber felt constricted, his chest on the verge of collapse. Even his sight hazed momentarily under the oppressive force.
Standing upright proved impossible now. Both legs had shattered from the burden, blood flooding within his armor.
The king refrained from striking, deepening the mystery. No words escaped him, no assault followed.
That quiet unnerved Gabriel’s scalp worse than any roar. Did the king deem him unworthy of death?
Gabriel bit fiercely, tasting blood anew. Summoning his final scraps of control, he lunged at the open window, heedless of the plunge’s toll.
Survival demanded priority.
His form burst through the gap, tumbling from the royal quarters. Chilly night winds assaulted him instantly, and the abrupt lift of that smothering weight sharpened his thoughts just enough.
He plummeted from the castle. The hillside below appeared remote and jagged in the moonlight. Structures, barriers, cobble trails, and shadowy gardens whipped past underneath as gales howled by his ears.
While descending, Gabriel glanced upward.
The king loomed at the window.
Still, the man’s visage stayed indistinct, merely his form and enveloping hush. No pursuit, no gesture, no utterance came.
Realization dawned then. His eyes quivered.
The king had deliberately spared him.
True intent to kill would’ve prevented reaching the window. Their disparity was ludicrous; flight should’ve been unattainable.
Yet he’d escaped.
"I hate this feeling... this feeling of helplessness," Gabriel thought, fist balled tight.
The instant after, he crashed down.
Bang.
The collision ravaged him. His body pounded the soil at the hill’s base, splintering the earth. Already weakened bones shattered worse, blood staining the soil and withered grass nearby.
Agony seared so fiercely that breathing taxed him. Ribs seemed pulverized, one arm grotesquely angled, his spine howling at the slightest twitch.
Gabriel sprawled in expanding crimson, chest heaving steadily.
Hurt radiated across limbs, torso, and spine, yet paled against the chamber’s torment.
Step. Step.
Footfalls abruptly rang nearby.
With effort, he twisted his head, spotting two silhouettes emerging from shadows by the castle’s lower barrier through hazy sight.
One was the regular fellow from earlier, the other the bandaged-eyed man.
Beside the blindfolded figure, the odd creature advanced, nostrils flaring at the air. It sniffed repeatedly before dipping its head to Gabriel for closer whiffs.
The initial man peered at Gabriel, smirking faintly.
"So this is what White Phantom looks like when he’s half dead."
Up close now, despite blurred vision, Gabriel made them out distinctly. His gaze locked first on the Black Star headband.
At that sight, a wry grin crossed his mind,
"You must be kidding me."
...
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