SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant Chapter 605: The Fourth Floor

The lodging facility in Aurevane, a structure of four stories situated near an inner district, was close enough to the Conclave grounds that the surrounding streets already carried the faint aromas of herbs, hot metal, opulent perfume, and other scents Trafalgar preferred not to inhale without identification.

It was evident that this building was not intended for common travelers.

Its construction featured pale stone walls, expansive windows, gleaming railings, and mana lamps designed as crystalline flowers. The grand entryway was staffed by individuals who greeted Selara with an air of deference, as if she had personally compelled the budget office into compliance – a possibility, given her reputation.

Selara entered with the self-assured demeanor of someone utilizing academy funds without an iota of guilt.

The students followed her lead.

A collective reaction rippled through them almost immediately.

The third-year alchemists, though attempting to maintain their composure, found their gazes repeatedly drawn to the ornate chandelier, the intricately carved reception desk, the sweeping staircase, and a small indoor fountain that emitted a gentle blue mist, likely costing more than a typical family's annual sustenance. Meanwhile, the summoners murmured amongst themselves about the ambient mana density within the structure. One of the healing students had already noted the presence of emergency medical seals adjacent to each corridor.

Cynthia paused near the entrance, absorbing the surroundings.

Trafalgar, however, remained largely impassive.

While aesthetically pleasing and undoubtedly costly, after experiencing Morgain Castle, Euclid's estate, the Council's aerial palace, and numerous other extravagant locations, this was merely another edifice where significant wealth had been invested.

Selara observed his lack of astonishment and clicked her tongue.

"You are rather dull, chef," she remarked. "A typical student would at least feign some level of admiration."

Trafalgar tightened his hold on his luggage. "Should I express my awe now, or after we have inspected the rooms?"

"After," Selara replied, gesturing towards the stairs. "The rooms are where I truly indulged in abusing the academy's budget."

Cynthia cast a glance at him, her lips curving as if suppressing a smile.

Selara guided them to the fourth floor.

This ascent alone conveyed a significant message to Trafalgar. They were clearly not being housed with the general guests or in proximity to public areas. The fourth floor boasted fewer doors, thicker carpeting, fortified lamps, and a guard stationed near the stairwell, identifiable by a Council insignia on his uniform. The corridor exuded a subtle but palpable pressure, emanating from the security formations integrated into the very walls.

At least someone in Aurevane recognized that students from Velkaris Academy, having recently survived a train ambush, should not be placed in an area where a drunken merchant might inadvertently wander.

Selara halted their progress in the communal lounge situated at the floor's center. It was a commodious space furnished with long sofas, two large windows, a table laden with welcome packets, and a fruit bowl that one of the third-year alchemists immediately began scrutinizing with the intensity of someone examining a potential alchemical component.

"Very well," Selara announced, punctuating her words with a single clap of her hands. "Everyone congregate here before you become engrossed in luxury and forget your status as humble students."

The group coalesced around her.

Selara produced a slender folder from within her sleeve – an impressive feat, considering the sleeve’s dimensions seemed insufficient for anything beyond poor decision-making.

"Our stay in Aurevane will span approximately two weeks. The Grand Alchemical Conclave commences tomorrow. The event features public exhibitions, orchestrated demonstrations, exclusive auctions, academic forums, combat arenas, beast-contract halls, medical treatment displays, engineering showcases, and an extensive array of venues where individuals will attempt to sell you items beyond your financial reach."

A palpable sense of anticipation stirred among several students.

Selara raised a single finger.

"If any of you dare to touch something that is sealed, radiating light, emitting a hiss, whispering mysteriously, pulsing with energy, trembling uncontrollably, breathing without lungs, or smiling without a face, I shall entrust your apprehension to the city guards before I pen a letter to your families."

The immediate silence that followed was more impactful than any laughter.

"For the third-year alchemists," she continued, "your itinerary includes formula presentations, laboratory explorations, and ingredient exchanges. The summoners will be attending the beast exhibitions and contract demonstrations. Those in healing-related disciplines will concentrate on recovery tonics, antitoxin development, and emergency medical practices. Cynthia, you will have privileged access to the ranged combat demonstrations, focusing on alchemical arrowheads, specialized coatings, catalysts, stabilizers, and the testing of combat-grade ammunition."

Cynthia subtly straightened her posture upon hearing this.

Trafalgar noticed the slight shift in her bearing.

It was clear she had not journeyed here merely for show, and she was fully aware of her purpose.

Selara's attention eventually settled upon him.

"Trafalgar, your official presence here is attributed to your top ranking, and the academy's desire to project an image of valuing meritocratic reward."

"And unofficially?" he inquired.

A smile touched Selara's lips.

"Unofficially, your task is to refrain from exacerbating my current predicament."

"That sounds acceptable to me." A few students exchanged glances, uncertain if that was the appropriate manner for a director and a student to converse. Trafalgar paid them no mind. Selara seemed to relish making them question the established hierarchy.

Her demeanor shifted thereafter.

"Now, a crucial regulation. During the night, all individuals must remain within their designated rooms unless explicit authorization is granted. Aurevane possesses a safety akin to that of affluent metropolises, meaning threats often masquerade in fine attire and adhere to legalities. Following the incident on the train, I absolutely will not permit students to roam freely after dusk simply because a luminous shop sign has sapped their common sense."

She addressed the entire assembly.

However, when her gaze settled upon Trafalgar, it held for an extended moment.

Just a fleeting instant.

Formally, the directive encompassed him.

In reality, Selara was aware of his other obligations.

He offered a subtle inclination of his head.

Cynthia observed this exchange.

She remained silent on the matter.

This had become a recent pattern for her, noticing details and choosing not to inquire in public. Trafalgar was unsure whether to feel gratitude for her discretion or apprehension regarding her accumulating insights.

Selara concluded the briefing after distributing room keys and schedules.

The students proceeded towards their assigned quarters with considerably less vigor than they had exhibited earlier. The train attack had depleted most of them more than they cared to admit. Even those who were initially thrilled about the Conclave appeared on the verge of collapsing onto luxurious bedding, wishing the day had concluded before the detonation.

Trafalgar located his room without delay.

It was sumptuously appointed.

A spacious bed, an en-suite bathroom, a writing desk, a wardrobe, a balcony, heavy draperies, controls for the mana lamp, and a vista overlooking a portion of the cityscape were all present. While not novel to him, it was certainly beyond what most academy students would anticipate from official accommodations.

He set his luggage down, habitually inspecting the window's security, the door's seal, and the room's corners. No immediate threats were detected. By the time he rejoined the lounge, evening had fully enveloped Aurevane. The cityscape outside the windows shimmered with intricate lines of emerald and gold, its glass towers and alchemical lamps piercing the darkness, while the thoroughfares below pulsed with orderly movement rather than disarray. The majority of students had retreated to their private chambers.

Cynthia was positioned near the window.

Her attire remained unchanged, but her posture conveyed a different sentiment. Less defensive than usual, though not entirely at ease. The city had recaptured her fascination.

"Are you feeling fatigued?" she inquired as he approached.

"Somewhat."

"Would you care for a stroll?"

Trafalgar studied her countenance for a brief period. She was attempting a casual tone, yet the underlying curiosity in her voice betrayed her. Post-train incident, post-gas exposure, post-awakening to a situation she had missed, she still desired to explore the city.

That was quintessentially Cynthia.

"I intended to explore regardless," Trafalgar responded.

Cynthia's expression softened slightly. "In that case, let us depart."

They moved towards the stairwell in unison.

On the ground floor, the reception staff did not impede their progress. Selara had likely already made the necessary arrangements or issued the requisite warnings. Either approach would be effective.

They stepped out into the nocturnal ambiance.

Aurevane adopted a different character after sunset.

The air was balmy, carrying a medley of aromas: spiced cuisine, reactive chemicals, polished metal, and floral perfumes that competed for dominance in the narrow thoroughfare. Alchemical lamps, encased in glass globes, drifted overhead. Vendors were beginning to close their stalls, guards scrutinized entry passes under the verdant glow of the lamps, and the faint strains of distant music emanated from deeper within the urban expanse.

Trafalgar's objective was to comprehend Aurevane's operational dynamics and identify key areas for investigation over the ensuing days, given the temporal constraints.

Cynthia's sole desire was to experience the city by night.

By some confluence of intent, both aspirations guided them down the same arterial street.