SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant Chapter 592: Six Intruders

The carriage door swung open.

Six individuals entered.

Three were humans, accompanied by a dark elf and two vampires. Each appeared to be in their thirties, seasoned enough for experience yet young enough to still believe fortune could be manufactured. One human possessed brown hair and striking golden eyes.

The remaining two humans had darker hair; one's was cut short, while the other was carelessly tied back. The dark elf, with skin like rich earth and jet-black hair, had narrow eyes that meticulously scanned the wagon's interior. The two vampires, pale-skinned, featured unblemished faces and moved with silent grace. All six donned breathing masks.

These were not the ornate masks favored by nobility for comfort. Instead, they were utilitarian, sealing tightly around the nose and mouth, equipped with small, faintly glowing filters on either side. Their preparation indicated they anticipated whatever had been unleashed into the air.

The dark elf surveyed the wagon's interior.

"Doesn't seem like anyone's here."

The human with golden eyes remained positioned near the rear of the group.

The others proceeded in pairs, diligently inspecting seats, the undersides of tables, luggage compartments, and recessed alcoves. Their methodical approach suggested this was not their first engagement of this nature.

One of the humans clicked his tongue, crouching to examine underneath a row of seats.

"Why are we the ones stuck doing this? I wanted to be in the action too."

The other human, the one with the tied-back hair, issued a dismissive snort.

"This part pays the same and gets us shot at less. Stop whining. The gas should have knocked everyone out already. We sweep the passenger cars, wait for the sealed room to open, take the valuable goods, and get out."

One of the vampires spoke from the vicinity of the aisle, his voice somewhat indistinct through the mask.

"Two people didn't go down cleanly in the last car."

"They went down after we helped them," the tied-haired human retorted.

The first human let out a low chuckle.

"Are we going to be in the newspapers?"

"Most likely," the dark elf responded. "If you survive long enough to read them."

This remark effectively silenced him for a few moments.

Their search continued.

Eventually, one of the humans reached the section where Trafalgar and Cynthia were situated.

Cynthia remained unconscious, her breathing steady, her form resting against the seat where Trafalgar had carefully placed her after feigning collapse beside her. Trafalgar had maintained a low profile, ensuring that any observer entering from the door would assume the gas had taken its full effect.

The approaching human spotted them and grinned beneath his mask.

"Bingo," he declared, his voice sharpening with avaricious excitement. "Looks like we got lucky. Look at this. A pair of little lovebirds."

The others in the group subtly shifted their attention.

His gaze lingered on Cynthia for an uncomfortably long duration.

"And her body's not bad either," he added, taking a step closer. "Once we clear the other cars, maybe we can have a little fun before leaving."

The dark elf's tone turned severe.

"Check if they're sleeping first. Pulse, breathing, any mana response. Once the other wagons are clear, what you do with the passengers is your problem, not mine."

The human chuckled softly, already relishing the implied consent before it was fully granted.

"You heard him."

From the rear of the group, one of the vampires narrowed his eyes, directing his gaze toward the golden-eyed human.

"Since when are your eyes yellow?"

The golden-eyed human offered no reply.

The man near Trafalgar crouched and extended his hand to check his neck.

The instant his fingers made contact with skin, Trafalgar moved.

Mana surged through him in a single, violent pulse.

The hand he had concealed came upward, brandishing [Widow's Whisper], and the dagger plunged into the man's throat before he could even register that the seemingly unconscious boy beneath him was now awake.

The human's eyes widened in disbelief.

His breath hitched against the mask in a wet, panicked sound. Both his hands shot towards Trafalgar's wrist, clawing desperately to dislodge the dagger, but Trafalgar maintained his grip. He drove the blade deeper, twisting just enough to ensure a fatal wound.

Hot blood flooded over Trafalgar's fingers.

The man attempted to cry out, but only a choking rasp escaped.

Trafalgar's expression was devoid of any mercy.

Not after what he had overheard.

The human struggled with renewed ferocity, his knees banging against the seat, one boot scraping across the floor as he tried to break free. Trafalgar exploited this struggle, rising partially from the seat, and used his pure strength to force the man downward. The attacker crumpled onto the floor, one hand still clamped to Trafalgar's sleeve, the other flailing uselessly at the blood pouring from his neck.

His body convulsed.

The breathing mask inside turned a crimson hue as it fogged.

Trafalgar waited until the resistance slackened, then withdrew the dagger and let the man fall completely to the ground.

The carriage fell into stunned silence.

In a fluid motion, Trafalgar adjusted Cynthia's position on the seat to prevent her from slipping, then reached down, tore the deceased man's mask free, and donned it himself.

[Widow's Whisper] disintegrated into motes of mana.

Maledicta materialized in his grasp.

He couldn't perfectly summon his armor with the mask obstructing him, but it was inconsequential.

Five combatants remained.

The intruders reacted instantly. Swords were drawn. A vampire drew a mana rifle. The dark elf commenced gathering mana in his hand. The golden-eyed human lurking at the rear hadn't budged, yet his dual daggers were now plainly visible.

The dark elf surveyed the fallen figure on the ground, then shifted his gaze to Trafalgar.

"You've really made a considerable mess here, kid."

Trafalgar deliberately stepped over the severed arm of the deceased.

"You boarded the wrong carriage."

The dark elf's eyes narrowed menacingly.

Mana converged in his palm, compressing into a potent projectile radiating a dark-green luminescence.

"You should have remained asleep."

He unleashed the spell.

Trafalgar bisected it with a swift cut.

Maledicta sliced through the incoming spell in a solitary motion, cleaving the projectile before its detonation. The resulting fragments impacted the adjacent walls, dissolving into innocuous mana residue upon the protective arrays.

The rifle-wielding vampire attempted to steady his aim.

He never completed the action.

His head was brutally separated from his torso.

The golden-eyed human had traversed the intervening space behind him with uncanny silence. One dagger executed a clean decapitation. The other was already poised towards its next intended victim as the fallen body descended.

Crimson fluid spattered onto the floor.

[Sword Insight Activated]

A searing pain shot through Trafalgar's mind as he processed the swift movement.

The precise step, the calculated angle, the fluid motion of the blade before the target even comprehended he was marked; it was the epitome of assassination, pared down to its most fundamental form. Trafalgar unequivocally identified his adversary.

Caelum.

The outward guise differed, but the underlying technique was far too sophisticated for a mere hired mercenary.

The solitary remaining vampire let out a guttural snarl.

"You scoundrel!"

The disparity in numbers had shifted dramatically, leaving a three-against-two confrontation.

The dark elf, one vampire, and the human assailant remained on one side.

Trafalgar and Caelum stood opposed them.

Cynthia remained peacefully unconscious behind Trafalgar.

Trafalgar tightened his hold on Maledicta.

"Let's conclude this swiftly, Caelum."

Caelum offered a subtle nod, his golden-eyed facade maintaining the perfect illusion of the deceased individual's identity.

"Understood, Young Master."