SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant Chapter 813: The Message [I]

After the conversation ended, they left the dimension one by one.

Trafalgar went through first, and in the space of a breath the endless black disappeared around him. Caelvyrn's castle returned in its place, pale stone, cold mana-light, and corridors large enough that even after all the time he'd spent here, Trafalgar still didn't completely know his way around.

'I could probably still get lost in this place.'

That wasn't much of an exaggeration. He had technically been staying in Caelvyrn's castle for weeks now, at least by the outside world's count, but most of his actual time had been spent inside the dimension rather than exploring what sat beyond the Gate.

There was one place he knew well enough.

His room.

Trafalgar had more or less claimed it after the first few nights. It was a simple bedroom by the standards of Caelvyrn's absurd castle, which still meant a wide bed, expensive-looking furniture, enough space for several people to live comfortably, and a private bathroom attached to the room.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

For once, he wanted a little time alone.

Trafalgar leaned against the door for a moment and shut his eyes. He had spent years inside that dimension by now, even if only days and then weeks had crawled past outside. At first, the difference had been exciting more than anything else.

Eventually, his mind had started paying for it.

The deterioration hadn't happened suddenly. It had crept in slowly enough that he could pretend it wasn't there. A little more difficulty focusing, another headache, irritation arriving faster than it should, techniques refusing to settle even when he understood exactly what he was doing.

Today had made it impossible to ignore.

'Dravok was right.'

There was time.

More time than Trafalgar had ever imagined having for training, but that didn't mean they could spend it carelessly. If he pushed himself until his mind stopped functioning properly, then the entire advantage of the dimension became pointless.

'Wouldn't achieve much if I lost my mind halfway through.'

He began pulling off his clothes as he crossed toward the bathroom.

When he reached the mirror, Trafalgar stopped for a moment and looked at himself properly. Considering what his body had been put through over the last several years of internal time, there should have been scars covering half of him.

There weren't.

The pool had erased nearly everything.

Hundreds of injuries, perhaps thousands by this point, had disappeared almost as quickly as Dravok and Caelvyrn could give them to him. Broken ribs, torn muscles, cuts, bruises, damage deep enough that ordinary healers would have needed weeks to repair.

His body carried almost none of it.

The black markings across his arm and forearm remained, though.

Trafalgar turned his arm slightly beneath the bathroom light, following the familiar lines of the tattoo with his eyes. It had been there for so long that most days he barely thought about it anymore.

'I should probably look into this properly at some point too.'

Strangely, none of the others had ever drawn much attention to it. There were already enough unanswered questions surrounding Trafalgar without adding another one to the pile, but eventually he would need to stop leaving mysteries simply because more urgent ones kept appearing.

He let the thought go for now.

Trafalgar untied his hair and stepped beneath the shower.

Cool water fell over his head and shoulders, running down tired muscles that technically had no reason left to ache. It felt completely ordinary, and after years of sinking into strange dark liquid that repaired bone and flesh beneath his skin, ordinary water felt surprisingly good.

No mana crawling through him nor wounds closing. Just simple and plain water.

Trafalgar stayed there longer than necessary, letting his thoughts quiet with the steady sound against stone. When he finally shut it off, the pressure in his head hadn't disappeared, but it felt distant enough that he could breathe without noticing it every few seconds.

He wanted to see his wives.

That thought had been growing stronger the longer the training continued.

Hardly any time had passed for them compared to what Trafalgar had experienced, but that difference didn't change what his own mind remembered. Mayla was also getting close to giving birth, and whatever else happened next, he wanted to be there for that.

He dried himself, dressed, and left the room.

It didn't take long before his feet carried him toward the gardens.

Rhosyn was where he'd half expected to find her, back among the roses. She stood this time instead of sitting, one hand brushing lightly over the petals of a nearby flower when she noticed him approaching.

"I suppose that's it for now," she said.

Trafalgar stopped beside her. "Apparently my mind has finally decided years of training without much of a break isn't healthy. A shame, really."

Rhosyn gave him a faint look. "You say that as though you're disappointed."

"I am a little." Trafalgar folded his arms. "Although I imagine if I tried forcing myself back inside right now, the three of you would eventually drag me out like a drunk who still insists he can walk."

That earned a quiet laugh from her.

"Probably. And if you kept arguing, Caelvyrn would enjoy it far too much." Rhosyn turned back toward the flowers. "We have time, Trafalgar. That's the whole reason we built the place. There's no need to turn that advantage into another way of destroying yourself."

"I know. Dravok made the point clearly enough."

"And he's right." Her voice softened slightly. "You can recover from almost anything physical in there. Losing yourself is different. We don't need to find out how far that can go."

Trafalgar nodded.

He looked at her for a moment before adding, "At least you'll get to rest properly too."

Rhosyn breathed out and gave a small, tired smile. "That part I won't complain about. I expected maintaining the dimension to be difficult, but I underestimated how much it would build up over time. It affected me more than I thought it would."

"You hide it well."

"I've had practice."

"That doesn't make you less tired."

"No. Unfortunately."

They remained there for another minute before Trafalgar raised one hand.

Dark motes gathered above his palm.

The Shadowlink Echo materialized there as naturally as Maledicta ever did, small and familiar, its surface completely dark while it remained inactive.

Trafalgar looked down at it.

Activating it had become routine.

At least once every day outside the dimension, he summoned it and checked whether Caelum had left anything for him. Changes in Euclid, messages involving the family, anything important enough that Trafalgar needed to know even while he was buried beneath a mountain training.

Most days, there was little worth worrying about.

He fed mana into the Shadowlink Echo.

The object stirred.

A faint light spread across its surface, and Trafalgar felt the stored connection catch almost immediately.

Rhosyn glanced toward it.

Trafalgar's expression sharpened.

There was a message waiting.