God-Tier Extraction Talent: Reincarnated in a Game-like World! Chapter 511: Rescued [2]

"Scarlet?" Gabriel exclaimed as the silhouette fully emerged into sight.

For an instant, he found himself utterly speechless. Among all the faces he imagined seeing upon regaining consciousness, Scarlet sat near the very end of that unlikely roster.

With a single hand, Scarlet shut the door behind her and strode inside with composed grace. Her simple attire did little to diminish the commanding aura she exuded. The towel folded neatly in her grasp lent an air of everyday normalcy to the moment, heightening the oddity all the more.

"You are awake," she stated in a serene tone.

Gabriel fixed his gaze on her a moment longer before letting his eyes drift downward, scanning his own form. The armor from the castle had vanished. Even more crucially, so had the helmet.

His features hardened just a touch.

Should Scarlet have removed the armor, one undeniable fact would have come to light for her.

He was not Darius Aston.

Scarlet appeared to discern this from his expression. She set the towel down on the chair and regarded him with a neutral face.

"You do not need to think too hard about that part," she remarked. "I already know you are White Phantom."

A sharp glint flashed in Gabriel’s eyes. Though his countenance stayed mostly composed, chaos churned within his mind.

"I knew since your first appearance in the Monkey Paradise dungeon," she continued evenly.

His fingers clenched tighter on the bedsheet.

He had guarded that identity with utmost caution. Extremely so. To this day, White Phantom remained distinct from Broken Heaven, never paraded openly before anyone.

And yet, Scarlet claimed knowledge from the very start.

Struggling to maintain his stoic facade, Gabriel whispered, "How?"

Scarlet held his gaze briefly before answering, "That is a secret."

Grasping the basin in one hand, she transported it back to the bathroom section within the chamber. Her voice stayed utterly unchanged, as though addressing a mundane inquiry.

Gabriel observed her departure, then glanced once more at his wrapped wounds. He sat motionless for some time thereafter, silent.

A storm of thoughts collided fiercely. Scarlet’s awareness of his White Phantom guise posed a grave issue already. The method of her discovery loomed even larger.

He had shared it with no one.

Neither XMan, nor Sophie, nor even Seraphina knew.

Legend Logan alone held that knowledge, and only due to the Hellfire Turret he himself had forged.

Gabriel dismissed any notion that Logan had betrayed him.

Just one explanation rang true in his mind.

Her talent played a role in it.

Though he grasped only fragments of Scarlet’s talent, deeper reflection made this conclusion ever more probable.

"Troublesome," he murmured.

Eventually, he ceased pursuing the truth. No use dwelling on the enigma if Scarlet refused to divulge it. For the moment, grasping this single certainty sufficed.

Scarlet wouldn’t recklessly betray him.

In that, he placed his faith.

Cold and unyielding she might be, brutally forthright too, yet never one for petty machinations with hidden truths. Provided it remained solely between them, his White Phantom secret stayed safely interred.

Another dire matter loomed, however.

Darius Aston lay dead.

Gabriel had ended him personally with a crushing stomp to the skull, then fed the remains to Grizzlenaught. No trace lingered, yet the void itself could spark catastrophe. Darius wasn’t some obscure lordling—he was General Aston’s heir.

His vanishing wouldn’t pass unnoticed.

As one of the kingdom’s mightiest pillars, General Aston bound tightly to the Valerian Kingdom through the Adventurer Guild. Scarlet bridged that vital link. Should Darius’s fate spill wrongly, repercussions wouldn’t halt at Gabriel.

New Dawn could suffer as well.

Right then, the bathroom door swung open anew.

Scarlet reentered the room, setting the basin beside the table. Gabriel braced for inquiries, perhaps a measured grilling or stern caution at minimum.

Yet Scarlet merely glanced at him and uttered, "Rest."

She pivoted toward the exit.

A slight frown creased Gabriel’s brow. "You are not going to ask anything?"

Scarlet halted, hand hovering by the handle.

"There is no point in asking a wounded man everything at once," she replied. "You are in no condition to answer properly, at least not right now."

She swung the door wide.

"I will allow you to rest first."

With those words, she departed the room.

Scarlet’s exit plunged the space into silence once again.

Gabriel reclined against the headboard, lingering there motionless for long minutes. Though the ache had lessened, a profound throb persisted within—duller, weightier now.

Moments later, he accessed his inventory and retrieved the Soul Key.

Cold and unnaturally heavy for its size, the dark metal lay in his palm. He gazed at it in silence, his fingers gradually clenching tighter around it.

This item had almost claimed his life.

His eyes dropped downward.

The king's memory surged back at once. The utter silence. The crushing pressure. How the room had seemed to contract simply from that man's presence there. Even recalling it now caused his chest to constrict.

Why did the king release him?

...

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