God-Tier Extraction Talent: Reincarnated in a Game-like World! Chapter 525: Black Star’s End

Leaning against the fractured wall, his one arm severed, thick torrents of blood streamed down his flank. His health plummeted at an alarming speed, a fact he now sensed all too vividly. Rasping breaths escaped him, and each shift in position sent more blood splattering across the ground.

His features contorted as he willed himself from the wall. His mangled frame quivered violently, yet he strove to rise. Battlefields across years had etched that unyielding drive into his core. Breath still filled his lungs—he would battle on.

Torin at last regained his composure. Rage, dread, and vigilance swirled within his torso, but his grip held firm. An arm lifted, igniting multiple magic circles around him in a flash. The chamber's temperature skyrocketed instantly.

Fwish! Fwish!

Gabriel advanced one step and slashed once.

All oncoming fire blasts cleaved apart instantly upon grazing the sword's arcs. Some halved and faded away. Others erupted into pointless sparks before nearing his robes.

Those assaults could incinerate metal and meat in tandem, yet Gabriel pressed through them like sluggish nuisances.

Brute strength paired with pinpoint accuracy felled every fire wave, forcing Torin to yield ground step by step as his poise fractured under the onslaught.

Torin hurled technique after technique, but nothing impeded Gabriel's relentless push. Their separation dwindled, ragged gasps escaping the clan leader. Beads of sweat traced his neck and forehead—not solely from the blistering air, but from the vise of entrapment.

No guild master had ever cornered him this severely.

An unidentified intruder had infiltrated his lair, slaughtered his followers, slain Johnny, mangled Aston, and now approached with unwavering tranquility. Torin's deeper frustration arose from that pristine white phantom guise.

The inferno should have seared his flesh and hampered his motions.

"How are you still like this?" he muttered.

This ranked as one of his most potent techniques.

Its steep toll made him deploy it sparingly. It guzzled immense mana, reserved only for true emergencies under usual conditions.

Flames packed tight in his palms contracted further, densifying to true bullet scale. Air twisted around it. Torin's breaths labored harder, sweat cascading over his face upon completion of the compression.

FWOOOOSH!

Gabriel's eyes gleamed sharply. The projectile's velocity seemed merely moderate to his perception.

Twin Dragon Fang grazed the bullet's edge, knocking it aside mere instants from his brow.

Off trajectory, the shot struck General Aston, who had just shoved free from the wall for a single stride. It embedded in his chest's core and burst explosively.

A deafening boom rattled the chamber. Flames devoured Aston's upper frame. No scream escaped the aged general. As the blaze subsided, death had claimed him—chest obliterated, corpse crumpling back to the shattered wall.

His attention snapped back to Gabriel, unleashing volleys anew. Flame bullets launched in succession, siphoning his mana deeper. Terrifying might pulsed in each.

...

The swelter in this area bordered on insane. The toll touched even him now. Health ebbed with every footfall, battle roars swelling as he neared.

In the chamber's heart, Gabriel came to a halt.

"I’m done playing."

Those words Torin longed to bellow, stifled by the crushing tension.

Torin’s pupils contracted sharply, his pulse thundering wildly.

Blood spewed from Torin's mouth in an instant. His form lurched rearward, yet Gabriel seized not the pause. Sword yanked out amid a crimson geyser, he struck once more.

Torin’s pair of arms tumbled free, the clan head crashing to his knees with a resounding impact. Crimson floods gushed from the ragged stumps to the blackened floor below.

Kneeling there, ashen and devastated, Torin’s gaze avoided his gashes.

Rage no longer burned in those eyes.

Understanding escaped him utterly.