SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant Chapter 602: Names After Blood

Trafalgar held his position for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the man standing before him.

Recognition dawned, a familiar face from the game.

Eldric au Veyr.

Indeed, one of the ten legendary figures, and a formidable one at that. While not ostentatious like many other legendary characters, Trafalgar recalled with certainty that Eldric possessed a far more subtle yet potent danger. The Calamity Cartographer was a legend who needed no grand displays of destruction to signify his power.

Extending a hand, Trafalgar offered his introduction.

"Trafalgar du Morgain. It is an honor, Eldric au Veyr."

Eldric showed no surprise at being addressed by name. He met Trafalgar's handshake with a firm grasp, his return gesture devoid of any unnecessary flourish. His pale gray eyes momentarily scanned Trafalgar's blood-splattered attire before settling back on his face.

"Eldric au Veyr," he confirmed. "Though that greeting seems to have been redundant."

A faint quirk played on Trafalgar's lips.

"I happen to know a few names."

"So I observe."

Eldric released his grip and turned his focus toward the beleaguered cargo wagon, the fallen assailants, the injured guards, and Merisse, who was now secured by the Wardens. She remained alive, bound, and no longer capable of adorning the wagon with her destructive wires and explosives.

"Well," Eldric stated, "I thank you for resolving this situation. We will now take Merisse and the rest of this affair from here."

Trafalgar’s gaze briefly flickered towards Merisse before returning to Eldric.

"It was unexpected that the First Concord would involve itself in such a matter. Not that I disapprove. Your arrival is greatly appreciated."

Eldric responded without inflating the significance of the event.

"From my assessment, our intervention might not have been strictly necessary to conclude the immediate confrontation. You were already handling it." His eyes drifted back to the wagon. "However, this falls squarely within our jurisdiction. Our duties are not limited to Void Creatures. The Wardens are tasked with safeguarding individuals lacking the support of influential houses, and this train was attacked on neutral ground governed by Council regulations."

Trafalgar offered a nod.

"That is logical."

"It must be. Otherwise, this entire endeavor would have collapsed before even leaving the Council chambers." Eldric’s attention returned to Trafalgar. "Could you recount the events that transpired?"

"Certainly."

Trafalgar commenced his explanation.

He presented the facts plainly, without embellishment. The gas deployment. The subsequent explosion. The attackers' infiltration of the passenger cars. The clear objective: the cargo. Merisse's command of the assault. The discovery of the sealed container and the blueprints. He provided sufficient detail for Eldric to grasp the scope of the incident, while the Calamity Cartographer listened intently, offering no interruptions.

Eldric's expression remained largely impassive, yet the subtle, pale threads of magic swirling around him shifted as Trafalgar spoke, flowing over the damaged seal, the fractured floor, the fallen bodies, the cargo supports, and the locations where Merisse had concealed her traps.

While Trafalgar conversed with Eldric, Garrika was occupied in a different wagon.

From her vantage point, she could observe a portion of the cargo area through the open connecting passage. Trafalgar was there, conversing with Eldric, his form splattered with blood, standing as if the chaos surrounding him was merely an inconvenience he had casually navigated.

She refrained from approaching him.

Remaining in her current location, she offered assistance to the others.

Saaren moved among the passengers, assessing the lingering effects of the sleeping gas. Many were stirring, recuperating without significant issues, albeit with coughing fits, disorientation, and understandable fear, yet they were alive. This outcome was a relief, far preferable to the alternative the attackers had clearly intended.

Garrika aided a woman in regaining an upright position against the wall and provided a cloth to a man whose nose had begun to bleed upon awakening. Her hands were actively engaged, serving as a bulwark against overwhelming thoughts. Should her hands cease their work, her attention invariably drifted back to the cargo wagon.

Narak was already collaborating with the train engineers and alchemists to rectify the damage. The dwarf had commandeered the nearest compromised section, unconcerned with hierarchical distinctions. He engaged in a heated debate with an engineer, voiced his displeasure at an exposed mana conduit, and began personally rectifying the damage when the provided solutions proved too sluggish.

The event, though delayed, was still slated to proceed.

This much seemed to be universally understood. The train sustained damage, the schedule was disrupted, lives were lost, but Aurevane and the Grand Alchemical Conclave would not be deterred by a single attack if the train could be made operational once more.

And so, they toiled.

Ilyra had been observing Garrika for some time.

With the focusing lens fitted over one eye, her specialized class allowed her to discern the direction of another’s gaze with unnerving ease. Garrika was already aware that this woman possessed an exceptional knack for noticing details others overlooked, and worse, took pleasure in pointing them out.

Ilyra leaned her rifle against her shoulder and spoke, a clear note of amusement coloring her tone.

"You’ve been watching the Morgain boy for quite a while now."

Garrika's body tensed.

The mention of Trafalgar by Ilyra at this moment, amidst the chaos of injured passengers, lingering sleeping gas, the pervasive smell of blood, and the groaning of the train, had been entirely unexpected.

"Oh..." Garrika uttered, her gaze returning to the passenger before her. "He certainly caught my eye."

"I can see why," Ilyra replied, tilting her head towards the cargo section. "Strong, handsome, and already covered in blood. Viewed from that angle, he does possess a certain allure. And that face is hardly difficult to admire. Now I understand your distraction."

Garrika offered no response.

She continued her work, tending to the passengers.

Ilyra, however, didn't take the hint.

"Hmm. Perhaps I should go speak with him."

"No."

The single word escaped her lips far too swiftly.

Ilyra's smile immediately widened.

"Oh? That is surprising. Why do you object to me approaching him? Do you know him? Are you perhaps friends?"

"Something like that," Garrika stated after a brief hesitation. "He saved my life some time ago. We are acquainted, and rather close."

This revelation only piqued Ilyra's curiosity further.

She raised a hand, poised as if to call out.

Garrika reacted instantly, placing her hand over Ilyra's mouth.

"Don't," she whispered urgently.

Ilyra appeared genuinely amused by this reaction. She gently removed Garrika's hand, her voice lowering, her face alight with curiosity.

"Tell me why, and I won't. If you know each other, why the reluctance to see him? It has been a while, hasn't it? Eldric has had us working relentlessly for nearly three months."

Garrika let out a sigh.

She preferred not to divulge the details, but Ilyra had the distinct demeanor of someone who would stir up trouble out of sheer curiosity if left unsatisfied.

"I confessed my feelings to him."

Ilyra's expression shifted noticeably.

Garrika continued speaking before Ilyra could make matters worse.

"But I am not strong enough yet. I asked him to wait. I told him I don't want his answer until I can stand on equal footing with him. Therefore, I don't wish for him to see me right now."

Ilyra regarded her for a moment.

Then, a grin spread across her face.

"You have considerable courage, girl. To confess something like that to an heir of the Eight Great Families is no small feat. Are you certain he will reciprocate your feelings? He likely already has admirers, and it wouldn't be surprising if hundreds of women were drawn to him simply because of his name."

"That is of no concern to me," Garrika replied. "That is precisely why I don't want him to see me in my current state."

Ilyra observed her, still finding the situation highly amusing.

"Very well. If that is your wish." She glanced over Garrika's shoulder and added, "Too late, however. He is right behind you."

Garrika spun around immediately.

No one was there.

Ilyra burst into laughter.

Before the laughter could fully escape her lips, Garrika had her in a lock. Ilyra tapped out almost instantly, still chuckling despite the discomfort.

"Alright, alright. I yield."

"Don't do that again."

"I shall endeavor to become a better person."

"That means nothing."

"Precisely."

Meanwhile, back in the cargo wagon, Trafalgar concluded his explanation of the events.

Eldric offered a slight nod, and the pale lines around the damaged seal retracted, vanishing like dust in the air.

Before either of them could speak further, footsteps echoed from the corridor.

Selara entered the cargo wagon.

Her mana firearm was held in one hand, her attire remained mostly intact, yet the elegance she had possessed at the journey's start had clearly been compromised by the attack. Her hair had become disheveled, one sleeve was scorched, and the look on her face made it evident that whoever orchestrated this day had earned her utmost displeasure.

Her gaze landed on Merisse.

Merisse, bound against the cargo frame, lifted her head and offered a smile.

"Hello, Selara."