SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant Chapter 557: Trafalgar vs. Stalker [I]

The combatant initiated the engagement, their movements so rapid that the battle's dynamic shifted before the rooftop acoustics had fully settled.

They glided across the sloping tiles, melting into a 'Shade Skip,' their form blurring into darkness before reforming near a chimney. One blade lunged towards Trafalgar's ribs, the other poised for a subsequent strike lower down. Trafalgar, with Maledicta, pivoted just in time to lessen the first blow's severity, but the poison had already begun to corrupt the internal harmony of his body. His strength remained, yet it no longer flowed with the pristine clarity required; against an adversary like this, such a minute deficiency carried immense danger.

A clash of steel rang out, a brief, intense shower of sparks erupting. The assailant disengaged instantly, without pause. They darted away, striking again, altering their vector, and then attacked low—a method driven not by honor, but by the ruthless pursuit of efficient elimination.

One blade whipped towards the inner thigh of Trafalgar's leg, while the other hovered near his throat, poised to exploit whichever opening Maledicta chose to exploit first. Trafalgar deflected the lower blade, but his leg responded a fraction slower than optimal. The assailant registered this alteration immediately.

"You're already losing your edge."

Trafalgar advanced, bringing Maledicta down in a powerful diagonal sweep that cleaved through broken tiles, forcing the assailant back. However, the opponent yielded to the momentum, their boots skidding on the roof's edge before they vanished once more into 'Shade Skip.' They reappeared at Trafalgar's flank, both blades now in coordinated motion.

One blade traced a line along the dark fabric at his waist. The second, shorter and swifter, grazed skin before Trafalgar twisted away. A searing sting flared across his side as the poison penetrated deeper. That was sufficient.

A suit of black armor materialized around him in a dark, shimmering cascade, piece by piece, until unyielding obsidian plates encased his chest, shoulders, arms, and legs. The fit was so immaculate it felt less like an invocation and more like an inherent truth revealed. The assailant's relentless assault didn't falter, but a palpable tension emanated from them. They had anticipated a foe possessing skill, a sword, and certain vulnerabilities. This—Trafalgar's perfected 'Obsidian Wings' armor—was unexpected.

"...This complicates matters."

"You are welcome to withdraw," Trafalgar stated.

The assailant responded with another charge. This time, they closed the distance aggressively, discarding any remaining preliminary probing. The initial knife flicked towards the gap beneath Trafalgar's arm, the second angling upwards towards his jaw as the assailant shifted mid-attack, utilizing 'Shade Skip' to transition their offensive line from one side to the other.

They fought with the practiced precision of someone who had dedicated years to ensuring no clean opportunity was ever granted. Trafalgar met them with heavier steel and a more determined resolve. Maledicta deflected one blade violently and chipped sparks from the second, but the insidious poison continued to subtly disrupt his timing—not enough to incapacitate, but certainly enough to provoke irritation.

'A despicable tactic!'

The assailant pulled back two paces, opening their left hand. A fine powder coated their fingers.

Trafalgar detected the shallow inhalation behind the mask covering the man's mouth and understood the impending danger before the technique fully manifested.

The adversary intended to unleash 'Venom Breath' once more, hoping the second inhalation would escalate discomfort into complete incapacitation. Trafalgar's free hand opened, and '[Blazewick Torch]' materialized instantly, erupting in a fierce burst of flame just as the verdant dust billowed forward.

Fire met poison.

The powder failed to disperse as the assailant intended; it ignited. The heat surged back into their own initiative, erupting across their hand and part of their face, instantly ruining the attack in a grotesque manner. They recoiled with a curse, one arm jerking upwards reflexively. The natural rhythm of their body fractured, presenting the opening Trafalgar required.

He surged forward utilizing '[Severance Step]', his body executing a blurred arc across the rooftop before solidifying at the assailant's flank.

Maledicta met the assault first, forcing both incoming blades upwards in a hasty cross-guard. The follow-up strike came not from the sword. A dagger flashed into Trafalgar's unoccupied hand, '[Widow's Whisper]' appearing just long enough to etch a short, sharp line across the man's flank, its hidden edge sinking deeper at the completion of the movement. Blood bloomed across the dark fabric.

With a hiss, the assassin recoiled toward the roof's edge, one boot skidding on fragmented tiles before he launched himself onto the adjacent structure. Trafalgar let the [Blazewick Torch] dissipate. A moment later, [Widow's Whisper] vanished as well. Maledicta was the only weapon left in his grasp as he pursued. Far below, Zafira was already navigating the labyrinthine side streets, maintaining a swift pace without prematurely ascending. Her crimson threads, stretched tautly across the surrounding stone, remained unseen by most but transmitted every tremor directly to her. Two figures moved across the rooftops. One, lighter and striking in swift bursts. The other, heavier and direct, even under the effect of poison.

The fiery outburst had rippled through her web-like senses like a tautly plucked string. The abrupt change that followed had conveyed more than enough.

'He incinerated the poison!'

Upon the next rooftop, the assassin landed in a defensive crouch, pressing a hand against his bleeding flank. As he withdrew it, his glove came away slick with crimson. He observed the blood for a fleeting instant, his indignation eclipsing any genuine alarm.

Trafalgar made his own way onto the same building with deliberate steps, his dark armor absorbing the ambient light as the sea wind carried the mingled scents of salt and smoke across the

rooftop.

"I rather preferred you poisoned," the assassin commented.

Trafalgar held Maledicta in a low stance. "Your chatter is excessive."

His reply struck deeper than any physical blow might have. The searing pain across the assassin's

face and hand had already eroded a portion of his composure, and the fresh wound on his side delivered the final blow.

His fingers delved into another pouch, emerging coated with a finer, paler green powder that seemed inherently more sinister. He allowed a measure of it to drift away as he drew his twin blades once more. Unlike the explosive dispersal of [Venom Breath], these particles descended slowly, deliberately, beginning to adhere to the rooftop's surface around him.

[Deadman's Pollen].

Trafalgar perceived the alteration in the atmosphere instantly and moved before the noxious field could fully establish itself. Maledicta executed a swift horizontal sweep, unleashing [Arc Slash] in a wave of dark-blue mana that slashed across the rooftop, disrupting the assassin's intended positioning before the poison could spread as he'd planned.

Shattered tiles erupted upwards. The green dust dispersed. The assassin evaded the brunt of it by shifting sideways through [Shade Skip], though the territory he had occupied moments before was no longer under his control.

He landed atop the higher ridge and immediately lunged back, keeping low with both knives, prioritizing velocity over distance. Trafalgar met his charge, responding with a forceful swing that channeled [Severing Fang].

A line of pressure erupted from Maledicta, bisecting the rooftop diagonally from crest to gutter. It shattered tiles and forced the assassin to leap over his own footing merely to maintain equilibrium. He succeeded, but the maneuver cost him his advantageous angle, and Trafalgar was already upon him.

[Severance Step] propelled him through the intervening space in a fluid, blurred arc. He rematerialized at the assassin's flank, Maledicta descending in a strike so potent that both of the opponent's knives were required to parry it. The impact echoed sharply across the rooftops. The assassin blocked and twisted, attempting to roll the force from his wrists, but Trafalgar pressed his advantage, the lingering poison vexing the assassin with each passing second. The assassin managed to disengage before the next strike could reach his shoulder, but not without consequence. Trafalgar's boot drove forward, striking him in the side and sending him skidding across the fractured tiles towards the base of a chimney stack.

The man recovered with remarkable speed, far quicker than most would manage, though the blood staining his side had now begun to spread lower.

"Flow Core my ass," he grumbled.

Trafalgar advanced another step, the black armor clinging to him, Maledicta emitting a faint hum of mana. "Your intelligence gathering was insufficient." The assassin's face contorted. He lunged again, this time utilizing the surrounding pollen cloud as concealment, his form flickering through [Shade Skip] as his blades came from unexpected angles, the poisoned dust settling on the rooftop between them.

Trafalgar did not allow him to complete his maneuver. Maledicta rose and descended in a powerful, two-stage strike as he infused his power into [Earthsplitter]. The initial impact fractured the tiles beneath them. The subsequent shockwave propagated through the rooftop with enough force to crack stone, destabilize the ridge, and send a staggering jolt through the assassin's legs precisely as he emerged from his movement. For the first time since the confrontation began, the assassin's balance faltered dramatically. This was the opening Trafalgar required.