SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant Chapter 586: Train to Aurevane

Two months vanished into the past.

Today marked the departure day for Aurevane via train.

Those preceding two months saw Trafalgar occupied, with Caelum offering assistance whenever feasible. Caelum’s presence would also grace the journey, though he wouldn’t be openly affiliated with the academy contingent. Should Selara’s former master manifest, compelling him to speak would be arduous, and Trafalgar had no intention of arriving in that city with mere curiosity as his armament.

Caelum had also furnished him with considerable intelligence concerning House Morgain.

Maeron had recently welcomed his third child into the world, with one of his consorts giving birth not long ago. Trafalgar remained oblivious to this until Caelum disclosed it, a situation unsurveyed by surprise. The companions of Morgain scions seldom lingered within the castle walls unless compelled by significant purpose. The perils inherent in proximity to that lineage were universally acknowledged.

Other developments had also been in motion.

The antagonism between Lysandra and Rivena had escalated dramatically. Rivena had effectively disappeared from public view, engaging in activities now that Valttair was absent and a firm hand was missing to enforce order. Neither her mother, the other wives, nor even Maeron could exert authority. According to Caelum, Lysandra appeared to have unearthed evidence of a transgression by Rivena, prompting her to launch an independent inquiry. Trafalgar lay supine on his bed before the dawn, his gaze fixed upon the ceiling as the chamber remained steeped in dimness.

'Argh, blasted Rivena… I am certain that whatever she is plotting amounts to no good. And Valttair is still away, deep in secluded training. I surmise no truly grave matters have transpired if he has not emerged and continues his training as if unperturbed.'

Regarding the other members of House Morgain, their circumstances varied individually. The wives continued to frequent the castle for the most part. The heirs had undergone transformations exceeding Trafalgar's expectations; most were now inferior to him in strength. Trafalgar had already positioned himself above Nym, Darion, and Elira. Rivena, Helgar, Lysandra, and Maeron remained ahead of him, for the present.

Trafalgar disembarked from his bed and re-examined his provisions.

Apparel. Spare garments. Essential toiletries. A modest collection of healing elixirs acquired personally. A supplementary cache for mana replenishment. Nothing extraordinary. Nothing to suggest to a servant any intent of combat within Aurevane.

Which, given the trajectory of his existence, implied he ought to have packed more.

His cognition shifted to other subjects.

Dravok, Rhosyn, and Caelvyrn.

Rhosyn had concluded her contribution to the project a little over two weeks prior. Subsequently, she was so depleted that even Trafalgar felt a measure of sympathy for her plight. Today, she had accompanied Mayla for a period of relaxation, a decision likely for the best. If anyone in this world required a tranquil interval, it was Rhosyn following the arduous months of her labors.

Caelvyrn, conversely, had commenced fulfilling his commitment whenever his schedule permitted.

He was imparting knowledge to Silas.

As Trafalgar had surmised, the young boy had already activated his mana core. He simply lacked the means to wield it, which likely accounted for the absence of any perilous incidents during his tenure at the orphanage. Trafalgar had visited him on several occasions in Euclid, and thus far, all proceeded favorably. Arthur ensured his sustenance, guidance, and diligent observation. Caelvyrn undertook the draconic tutelage with a degree of patience Trafalgar had not anticipated from him.

That alone bordered on the suspicious.

Trafalgar had also apprised Aubrelle and Mayla of his destination and the true nature of his undertaking. They had urged him to exercise caution. Their inquiries were minimal. Both possessed the understanding that if Selara’s master was implicated, this would transcend a mere academic excursion.

An additional observation surfaced during these past two months.

Cynthia had been dedicating increased time to Aubrelle.

This itself was not peculiar. Both were enrolled in the academy, and their acquaintance was established. Aubrelle, being a year senior, naturally facilitated frequent encounters. What seemed unusual was Aubrelle escorting Cynthia to visit Mayla on multiple occasions.

Trafalgar harbored a curiosity regarding the implications, but he resolved to keep his counsel.

Casual social gatherings, he presumed.

'Cynthia was also taken aback when she learned of my impending journey to Aurevane as well. Her expression was quite memorable.'

He hoisted his luggage.

Vivienne had integrated seamlessly into academy life. She had cultivated friendships and began allocating more time to Xavier.

'They are not officially a couple yet, but it appears they are on the precipice of it.'

The indication was unmistakable. Their gazes sought each other out daily, even when they feigned indifference. Whenever Trafalgar broached the subject, Vivienne would flush, seemingly uncomfortable with romantic discourse. Xavier remained silent but directed menacing glares at Trafalgar.

'And all I was attempting was to be helpful.'

Bartholomew too had undergone a transformation.

His association with Professor Rhaldrin had sparked a transformation within him. While he remained Barth, occasionally exhibiting his characteristic awkwardness and still finding more solace in aged records than in public attention, he was no longer the timid individual he once was when interacting with those outside his immediate circle. Conversation still demanded effort, particularly with young women, but he now made more frequent attempts. His schedule was rigorously structured, almost to a daunting degree for most students, meticulously dividing his time between assisting Rhaldrin, dedicating himself to training, volunteering at the orphanage, and pursuing his own academic studies.

Trafalgar held a deep respect for this disciplined approach.

Regarding his personal training regimen, the preceding two months had been far from lenient.

He had dedicated every possible moment to honing his skills. This included perfecting his Mana control, refining his swordsmanship, enhancing his movement techniques, and strengthening his core. Furthermore, he had engaged in sparring sessions with Xavier on thirty separate occasions.

Twenty-eight victories were his.

Two bouts ended in a draw.

These draws occurred at the outset, specifically when Xavier introduced unfamiliar Echoes that caught Trafalgar entirely by surprise. These unexpected encounters genuinely irked him for an entire afternoon. Subsequently, he adapted his strategy. Xavier voiced his displeasure vociferously. Trafalgar then secured more decisive wins. Their camaraderie, remarkably, endured through these competitive exchanges.

By the time Trafalgar emerged from his quarters, the academy grounds were just beginning to stir with early morning activity.

He journeyed from the academy to Velkaris via train, his luggage in tow, and arrived at the station where the rest of his group was scheduled to convene. The atmosphere buzzed with an unusual intensity. Students, vigilant guards, academy staff, and several individuals clearly associated with the Conclave navigated the crowded platforms, managing an array of bags, crates, securely sealed containers, and flustered assistants diligently trying not to mishandle valuable items.

Trafalgar disembarked from the academy train and surveyed his surroundings.

Then, his gaze landed upon Selara.

For what seemed to be the first time ever, she was attired in a manner that was impeccably appropriate.

That sight alone was almost sufficient to halt his progress.

Her long, platinum-blond hair had been meticulously brushed and styled with deliberate care. Her attire was elegant, maintaining a practicality suited to her, yet a stark contrast to the typically disheveled laboratory robes she habitually wore. Clad in white and green fabric, adorned with subtle gold embroidery, she wore gloves free of any stains, and conspicuously, no goggles were in sight.

She presented the image of a distinguished director.

Perhaps even that of a renowned alchemist.

Trafalgar found this transformation profoundly disquieting.

The moment Selara spotted him, she raised a hand.

"Chef! Over here!"

And just like that, the fleeting illusion was shattered.

Trafalgar approached her, his luggage trailing behind.

"Director."

A wide smile bloomed on Selara's face. "You sound rather disappointed."

"I entertained a flicker of hope, for a moment."

"How utterly cruel."

Trafalgar's gaze shifted past her, towards the waiting train on the platform.

The train poised there was distinctly different from the standard academy line.

It was elongated, slender, and possessed an elegance that rendered it more akin to a drawn blade than a mere mode of transport. Its chassis was constructed from a luminous pale metal, augmented by conduits of dark Mana that traced patterns along its sides like the very veins beneath protective plating. A pulsating blue-white light emanated from beneath the carriage panels, and its forward section was sculpted with a predatory sleekness designed to slice through the air. Intricate runes glowed vibrantly beneath the windows, and at regular intervals, a low, resonant hum vibrated through the entire structure, as if the train itself possessed a life force.

It evoked in Trafalgar the image of Japan's high-speed Shinkansen.

As if that concept had been infused with advanced Mana engineering, fortified with defensive arrays potent enough to traverse half a continent, and then rendered ostentatiously expensive, capable of making even nobles blush.

Selara, perceiving his focused attention, crossed her arms, a visible sense of pride evident in her posture.

"What do you think of it?" she inquired. "I contributed to its development about five decades ago."

Trafalgar regarded her for a moment, then shifted his gaze back to the magnificent train.

"You were involved in its construction?"

"Partially," she confirmed, her chin held high. "Naturally, not the entire vessel. My role involved devising several crucial stabilizing formulas and undertaking some Mana-pressure regulation work. Truly minor contributions, you understand."

The dismissive tone she employed when describing her involvement suggested its significance was anything but minor.

Trafalgar’s gaze returned to the gleaming, rune-etched train.

For the first time that morning, a genuine sense of excitement stirred within him.

"Alright," he conceded. "Now I am genuinely eager to experience the ride."