SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant Chapter 476: Return to Euclid

Trafalgar returned to Euclid just one day before the wedding ceremonies were set to commence.

Stepping through the Gate, he was immediately greeted by the dry, biting chill of the region. Ahead, his city appeared perfectly orderly under the dim light, with the streets already being rearranged for the upcoming festivities. Servants bustled about, transporting crates, fabrics, and intricate ornaments, while the guards maintained their patrols with disciplined precision, ensuring the preparations did not disrupt the city's routine. Euclid appeared to be operating in top form, with nothing left in disarray.

Arthur stood waiting for him near the primary thoroughfare.

The captain held himself in a stiff, military posture, his armor gleaming; one hand rested firmly against his back, while the other hovered near the blade at his hip. As Trafalgar drew near, the captain inclined his head.

"Young Master."

Trafalgar offered a curt nod, halting before him. "Arthur."

Straightening back up, Arthur reported, "The arrangements are well underway. Everything is proceeding without incident."

Trafalgar listened, yet his gaze narrowed slightly as he prioritized the inquiry that mattered most to him. "The soldier who perished—was his remains handled correctly?"

Arthur’s features hardened into a mask of solemnity. "Indeed," he replied instantly. "We conveyed his remains to his relatives, offered condolences in your name, and ensured he received a fitting burial." After a brief pause, he appended, "The promised funds were also delivered. His household shall be spared from hardship."

Trafalgar remained motionless for a heartbeat before offering a single, sharp nod.

"Good."

Arthur observed him pensively.

Most nobles would have immediately inquired about the wedding logistics—the guest lists, the mansion’s decor, or the image their territory would project on the morrow. Yet, upon returning on the eve of his own marriage, Trafalgar’s first concern was for a fallen subordinate.

Trafalgar looked back at the captain. "Thank you."

Placing a palm over his heart, Arthur bowed again. "It was merely my duty."

They resumed their walk, side by side, with Arthur trailing half a step behind, his mind occupied by their exchange.

His Young Master was mere seventeen years of age, yet actions like these left no room for skepticism. He remembered the fallen. He remembered the kin left in their wake. He was not the type to sacrifice men to the brutality of war only to discard them from his memory.

Arthur’s jaw tightened imperceptibly.

’I must perform better.’

Not prompted by external demands, but because a man worthy of his loyalty had returned, and Arthur refused to let him down.

As they delved deeper into the city, Arthur straightened his posture and continued the briefing.

"Our manpower continues to expand," he remarked, stealing a glance at Trafalgar. "In fact, the growth is quite significant. Following the war, many have become even more eager to serve under your banner. The current garrison is in high spirits. The city remains stable."

Trafalgar listened quietly, his eyes sweeping across the street where laborers were currently lugging polished timber frames toward an outer structure.

"The economy is also on the rise," Arthur added. "Trading remains robust, local businesses are thriving, and tax revenues have spiked accordingly."

That statement caused Trafalgar to pivot slightly. "And compliance? Are they all paying as they should?"

A dry, fleeting smile touched Arthur’s lips. "That would be ideal, but far from the truth."

Trafalgar’s expression flickered with faint amusement.

Dropping his voice, Arthur continued as they strolled along. "Generally speaking, no. Naturally, some will always attempt to conceal their wealth if they perceive a chance to escape notice." His tone shifted to one of gravity. "However, the vast majority are not trying to exploit you. They hold too much reverence for you, both for your past actions and your deeds during the war."

Trafalgar kept his silence for a moment.

Such a response was unexpected for most territories, yet Euclid’s transformation had been swift since he was granted authority, and the people’s perception of him had shifted as well. Respect was a valuable commodity—ultimately far more effective than mere fear.

Arthur then transitioned to the next subject. "Servants from the main family arrived recently, sent directly from Lord Valttair himself. They have assumed control of the majority of the wedding preparations."

Trafalgar’s gaze shifted forward again. He had already sensed this the moment he entered the city. With such a massive influx of laborers, even from afar, the polished details were impossible to miss.

"They’ve overdone the decorations," he remarked.

Arthur released a weary breath through his nose, briefly massaging his temple. "If you had witnessed the beginning, you would have labeled it even more excessive."

Trafalgar looked at him.

The captain shook his head. "I have never seen such a wedding in all my years."

Trafalgar narrowed his eyes. "It was supposed to be a small ceremony. Just the two families."

"That was my understanding as well," Arthur noted, gesturing toward an upper balcony where textiles in crimson and dark silver had been draped with near-compulsive precision. "But the decor tells a very different story."

He met Trafalgar’s gaze again.

"I suspect your father attaches great importance to this alliance," Arthur observed. "Enough that he wants every detail to broadcast that fact to the world."

Upon reaching the mansion, it became evident that Arthur had not been prone to hyperbole.

Workmen traversed the gardens, refining the final aesthetic touches beneath the dim Euclid light. Dark draperies were hung in perfect harmony, silver accents adorned every pathway, and the estate appeared significantly more opulent than Trafalgar had imagined for a private family event. It lacked vulgarity; instead, it exuded an expensive, calculated elegance unique to the main household.

Trafalgar swept his gaze across the grounds, his eyes narrowing once more.

Then, he observed a curious detail.

There was no snow.

Not on the walkways. Not on the banquet tables. Not at the garden's perimeter or the stone flooring near the gate. For Euclid, such a phenomenon was jarring.

Noticing the direction of his gaze, Arthur said, "Indeed. They have placed some protection over the estate."

Trafalgar looked upward, though nothing was visible to the naked eye.

"It acts like a dome," Arthur continued. "A formation, a tool, or perhaps both. It repels the cold and maintains the internal heat. They activated it earlier today."

Trafalgar said nothing as they crossed the threshold.

The contrast was instantaneous once they stepped inside. The bite of the cold was replaced by a regulated, pervasive warmth. Even the ambient energy felt different. The entire interior had been redesigned for the wedding, employing not just aesthetic flair, but high-level mana manipulation beyond anything Trafalgar would have bothered to commission.

Coming to a halt in the foyer, Arthur turned to him. "You should take this time to rest."

Trafalgar cast him a look.

"I will notify you when Lord Valttair arrives," Arthur said, maintaining his rigid posture. "And..." His lips compressed, as if holding back the obvious truth. "You should prepare yourself. Tomorrow is a monumental day."

Trafalgar exhaled faintly through his nose.

"I appreciate the reminder," he replied in a dry tone.

The subtle change in Arthur’s expression suggested he caught the sarcasm perfectly. He bowed once more. "Of course, Young Master."

With that, he departed to resume his duties, leaving Trafalgar alone in the warmth of his home.

Preparations were concluded. The city was ready. The estate was prepared.

Tomorrow.

Trafalgar surveyed the interior of the mansion one last time before moving deeper inside.

Tomorrow, the wedding would commence.