God-Tier Extraction Talent: Reincarnated in a Game-like World! Chapter 522: Intense Heat

The wall torches burned in an unnatural way.

Every flame twisted upward in a hushed rhythm, syncing almost flawlessly with the ups and downs of Torrin’s breaths. Inhaling made the fires stretch higher, exhaling caused them to dip just a touch, as though the entire chamber pulsed in harmony with him.

Gabriel picked up on it after a handful of breaths, deeply impressed by the flawless mastery on display.

A soft crackling noise permeated the dojo, faint yet constant, akin to brittle wood pushed beyond its breaking point by heat. The air Gabriel drew into his lungs grew sparser in this place, warming his chest more with each successive inhale.

Still, he held his shoulders relaxed and his hold light. Charging at someone like Torrin without gauging the terrain first would be foolish, and blind rushes hadn’t kept him alive this far.

As he lingered, Gabriel examined the space more closely. No arrays caught the eye, no symbols etched the ground, no heater lurked below the planks, but the warmth intensified around the seated figure, as if his very form fueled the entire area.

Torrin’s expression stayed serene amid it all. He resembled less a clan leader skulking below ground and more a man who’d selected this chamber precisely because it suited him so well.

Blood stained Gabriel’s boots as he positioned himself at the dojo’s perimeter, observing the central figure motionless.

Unknowingly, he tested his own endurance in that spot.

His stats might be overwhelming, but ultimately he remained mortal flesh that could char in flames. His unbreakable talent might prevent total ruin, yet agony would endure.

Moments ticked by in that manner.

Heat assailed his skin from all directions, the ground below warming to bite through his boot soles. His features, however, held steady.

Eventually, he inquired, "How many more minutes do you need to meditate?"

Torrin kept his eyes closed, replying in a deep, subdued voice, "Why did you not strike when you arrived? If you wanted my life, I was sitting here with my eyes closed."

Gabriel regarded him for one more second.

"My existence alone is already unfair," he stated. "I wanted to see how strong the leader of Black Star really is and give you some advantage."

Though unseen by him, those haughty words caused Torrin’s brow to twitch.

Torch flames danced once more with Torrin’s following breath. He held his lotus pose, wide shoulders unmoving, palms on knees, untouched by the carnage overhead.

After a brief silence, he resumed speaking. "You should not have come down here. This room especially."

Gabriel’s eyes swept across the dojo.

"What is so special about it?"

From his inventory, he pulled a water bottle. No sooner had it rested in his grasp than the contents started evaporating.

Gabriel’s gaze sharpened.

Within under two seconds, the water vanished entirely. Only a scant film of vapor lingered on the interior walls, soon gone too.

He rotated the vacant bottle in his fingers.

The room’s heat surpassed his expectations. Far from mere torch glow or confined subterranean warmth, it carried a heavier density, like air long-roasted and bereft of chill.

Gabriel produced a second bottle.

The phenomenon repeated.

The liquid quivered briefly, let off faint steam, and evaporated before reaching his lips. The container endured unscathed, bereft of its contents.

Torrin broke the silence once more.

"If you stayed outside, you would have had your chance," he said calmly. "Down here, you walked into your own death."

True intrigue gripped Gabriel now.

His scan of the room proceeded more deliberately this time. Banners adorned the walls, antique practice arms piled aside, charred flooring beneath, dojo layout rigidly precise.

Beyond the swelter, nothing revealed the source of his assurance.

"Did you sacrifice all your men just to bring me here?" Gabriel questioned.

Without lifting his lids, Torrin replied, "It was necessary."

He hesitated briefly before continuing, "With what my sponsor will give me after this is finished, their loss means very little."

Gabriel’s look shifted at that response.

Hitherto, he’d probed the chamber, the blaze, the opponent ahead. Torrin’s sponsor reference diminished all prior concerns.

Chill entered his eyes. A deliberate step advanced him, boot blood staining the glossy planks. Wall fires wavered anew, no longer merely mirroring Torrin’s respiration.

They seemed watchful.

Gabriel halted a few strides shy of the middle, eyes fixed on the meditator.

"So there really is a sponsor."

Torrin offered no denial. His silence served as confirmation enough.

Gabriel's tone dropped, growing grave. "Who is he?"

The chamber hung heavy with heat and hush. The torches burned more softly now, while the atmosphere crackled with heightened strain between them.

"I’ve already killed my way to your door." His fingers twitched faintly at his side.

"I didn’t come here for half answers."

Torrin stood utterly still.

Such composure was far from commonplace. He'd just learned his followers lay slain. He recognized that the foe before him had breached the innermost sanctum of their lair. Yet his breaths flowed steady, the whole dojo pulsing to that rhythm like an unbreakable edict.

Gabriel observed him intently.

A fleeting notion flashed across his expression. Torrin spoke not from devotion, but with the confidence of one assured of gains.

This elevated the sponsor's importance.

Though Gabriel's wounds remained unhealed, his posture shifted all the same. He drew himself up a touch, his tranquil visage turning frostier.

"Before I kill you," he declared, "I would like to know everything about this sponsor."