SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant Chapter 593: A Bad Wagon to Choose

"Understood, Young Master."

Those words altered the atmosphere of the room more profoundly than the fallen bodies on the floor.

The expression of the dark elf was the first to change.

His gaze shifted from Caelum to Trafalgar, and this time, it wasn't the look one might give a boy who had woken at an inconvenient hour. Black hair tied back neatly. Dark-blue eyes. A sword that seemed far too formidable for a typical academy student. And a servant who had just addressed him as 'Young Master' after dispatching one of their own.

The name surfaced in his mind swiftly.

"Trafalgar du Morgain."

The remaining vampire tilted his head slightly.

"What?"

Beneath the mask, the dark elf's jaw tightened.

"That's Trafalgar du Morgain."

For the first time, the human standing beside him appeared genuinely apprehensive.

Rumors had circulated about him. Not everyone had believed the tales, but that hardly mattered now. The war had left a surplus of whispers in its wake. A young Morgain with black hair. The bastard son who had ceased to be harmless. The one whose name had begun appearing in official reports where it had no business being for someone of his age.

The dark elf clicked his tongue.

"Shit."

Trafalgar offered no reply.

Caelum acted before the silence could lengthen.

The sole remaining human had barely enough time to lift his sword. Caelum's initial dagger slid expertly under the guard, opening the man's forearm from wrist to elbow. The second blade struck low, slicing across the thigh before the human could recoil. He cursed, stumbled, and swung with more sheer panic than practiced skill.

Caelum moved within the arc of the attack, twisting his body just enough to allow the sword to glide past him, and drove a dagger deep into the man's ribs.

The human choked.

Caelum yanked the dagger free and allowed him to fall, but didn't dwell on finishing him immediately. His attention was already fixed on the vampire.

The vampire moved with the innate speed of his bloodline.

He lunged at Caelum from the side, claws extending from beneath his gloves, his pale face contorted in rage after witnessing the demise of his companion. Caelum met the assault head-on, without yielding ground. Their blades clashed once, then twice, the grating of metal producing short, harsh sounds that pierced through the storm's distant rumble.

Trafalgar concentrated on the dark elf.

The elven mage had no intention of engaging in a straightforward fight. Mana began to coalesce around both his hands, a dark-green, viscous substance, weaving between his fingers like sentient roots. He directed the initial spell towards Trafalgar's legs, its purpose not to kill, but to ensnare.

Trafalgar sliced through it with Maledicta.

The spell disintegrated before reaching him, erupting into green sparks that rained down on the floor.

The dark elf's eyes narrowed. "You're faster than the report suggested."

"I'm not joking," he stated, interlacing his fingers with a slight pressure. The threads grew taut, threatening Cynthia's throat. "I don't care about your identity. I will kill her if necessary."

Behind him, the vampire struggled violently against Caelum's firm grasp.

"Do it," the vampire snarled. "Make him beg."

The dark elf's gaze remained fixed on Trafalgar.

"Your subordinate too. Order him to release me."

Trafalgar lowered Maledicta a fraction.

The elf interpreted this as submission.

"Wise decision."

"No," Trafalgar corrected. "You have misinterpreted my actions."

A surge of mana flowed into Maledicta.

The atmosphere within the carriage began to thrum ominously.

The dark elf's fingers tightened, preparing to unleash his spell, but Trafalgar retaliated instantly. He activated [Morgain's Last Dusk], pouring his energy into the blade until the entire carriage seemed to resonate. With a whisper-thin, almost surgical sound, a diagonal upward slash sliced through the air between them. The attack met the green threads first, severing them before they could constrict Cynthia, and continued its deadly trajectory into the dark elf's body. The wound ripped from hip to shoulder in a single, unrecoverable line, leaving no chance for regeneration.

The elf stood frozen for a moment, his eyes wide with disbelief.

His spell dissipated into nothingness.

Blood began to well from the grievous wound.

He attempted to utter a sound, but his mask filled with crimson before any words could escape. His knees buckled under him, and Trafalgar moved swiftly, securing him by the front of his tunic to prevent him from toppling backward.

"You should have focused on me."

A final tremor ran through the dark elf's hand.

Trafalgar released his grip, letting the body fall.

Simultaneously, Caelum concluded his encounter with the vampire. The creature's last desperate attempt to break free was met by Caelum's dagger, which slid smoothly from shoulder to throat in a single, fluid motion. The vampire spasmed against the table, fangs bared, before his strength failed, and his form collapsed onto the floor.

The human pinned against the door let out a single sob.

"Please..."

Caelum retrieved his dagger from the human's wrist and looked down with cold appraisal.

The man attempted to lift his free hand, perhaps in surrender, or perhaps in a final plea.

Caelum ended his struggle before any intentions could manifest.

Silence once more descended upon the carriage.

Only the storm's muffled roar, filtered through the train's walls, and the faint hiss of the lingering sleeping gas remained audible.

Trafalgar turned his attention to Cynthia.

She remained motionless.

He knelt beside her, rechecking her pulse. It was steady. Her breathing was even. The threads had not penetrated deeply enough to inflict harm.

His grip on Maledicta eased slightly.

Caelum wiped his dagger clean with a cloth procured from one of the fallen combatants. He then positioned himself near the door, listening intently for any sounds from beyond it.

Five bodies now lay strewn throughout the opulent carriage. Blood had begun to pool beneath the seats, streak across the floor, and gather near the shattered table where the vampire had met his end. The crimson stains created a stark, grotesque contrast against the pristine interior of the train.

Caelum cast a brief glance towards Cynthia, then shifted his gaze back to Trafalgar.

"What are your orders now, Young Master?"