SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant-Chapter 426: The Fall of the Thal’zar [XL]

The battlefield did not slow.

Void creatures continued advancing in relentless waves, bodies stacking and pressing inward as if they felt the shift before he fully understood it. Trafalgar cut through another humanoid, pivoted, and split a hound that lunged at his flank.

Another line surfaced.

[Requirements for Riftborn Feast fulfilled. Sufficient strength accumulated.]

His eyes narrowed.

’Sufficient strength?’

He stepped forward and drove Maledicta through a void torso, ripping it free in the same motion.

’Because I killed enough Rift creatures?’

The words did not vanish.

He had always assumed Riftborn Feast was a passive growth mechanic—incremental, almost symbolic. A slow accumulation that would matter over years.

A new notification appeared over the chaos.

[Riftborn Feast (Passive) has evolved into Riftborn Devourer (Passive).]

He cut downward again, severing an arm that reached for his shoulder.

’What?’

He pivoted and decapitated another before the body could even finish stepping forward.

Zero point zero zero one percent had become zero point one.

Permanent growth.

Scaling with enemy strength.

The updated description unfolded briefly in his vision as he continued fighting.

- Permanently increases total power by 0.1% per Rift creature slain.

- Gains scale with enemy strength.

- Enters Frenzy Mode when surrounded by Void creatures.

- Bloodlust toward Void drastically increases.

He did not stop moving.

But something inside him reacted to those words.

Frenzy Mode.

Bloodlust.

The swarm pressed closer.

And for the first time since the battle began, he felt something pushing back from within him, responding to the presence of the void around him.

The pressure from the battlefield and the new force rising inside his chest merged into something singular. The noise, the screams, the endless surge of void bodies pressing inward—none of it faded, but it no longer weighed on him the same way. The internal heat intensified, spreading through his limbs, sharpening his reflexes, tightening every movement into something more efficient.

He stopped thinking.

The next wave came.

He moved first.

Maledicta swept outward in a wide arc and released [Arc Slash], a horizontal wave of dark-blue mana that tore through the front rank and split it cleanly. Before the bodies hit the ground, he stepped into them and drove forward with [Morgain’s Linebreaker], coating the blade in condensed mana and charging straight through the densest mass. The cutting wave rolled outward from his path, lifting void creatures off their feet and fracturing their forms as he carved a direct corridor across the courtyard.

The space did not close this time.

It widened.

He pivoted sharply and executed [Severing Fang], the diagonal pressure slash parting both air and bodies with sheer force, cutting a clean line through three humanoids at once. A Void Hound leapt at his back, and he blurred forward with [Severance Step], reappearing behind it in a single fluid motion before severing its spine without slowing.

Every kill fed into the evolution.

Ten void creatures dissolved.

Power surged.

Another ten fell.

More.

The increase was no longer negligible. The difference was immediate. His strikes landed heavier. His steps covered more ground. The resistance he felt from higher-ranked void creatures diminished with each cluster he erased.

He drove his blade down and unleashed [Earthsplitter], the two-phase cleave fracturing the stone beneath him and sending a mana shockwave forward that stunned and staggered everything within range. Before they could recover, he flowed into [Morgain’s Requiem], the sword dance forming curved shadows of dark mana that expanded around him in layered arcs, tearing apart every void creature trapped within the radius.

They did not recover.

Above, Aubrelle watched through Pipin’s eyes, her breath catching slightly as she tracked his movement. He did not look like the same person who had landed moments ago. The black armor reflected blue flames in sharper lines now, his movements cleaner, more decisive. There was no hesitation left in him.

Void creatures that had pressed moments earlier began to recoil under the sudden shift. Beastkin and lycans nearby noticed it first. The pressure eased around their positions as Trafalgar cut through entire sections of the swarm alone. Humans who had been on the verge of collapse straightened, seeing the corridor he carved through the battlefield.

Morale shifted.

Hope returned in a brutal, tangible form.

A higher-ranked humanoid attempted to intercept him, releasing a compressed strike, but Trafalgar answered instantly with [Crosswind Edge], the pressure arc splitting the incoming technique before he stepped forward and finished it with a brutal upward cut.

The shockwave from the shattered technique had not even fully dispersed when he was already moving again. He advanced through the collapsing bodies without breaking stride, Maledicta rising and falling in relentless rhythm, each cut cleaner than the last. Every void creature that fell fed the growth inside him, and the increase was no longer subtle; it compounded in real time, stacking with each execution until his dominance over the immediate battlefield became undeniable.

Aubrelle steadied herself atop her stag, its hooves grinding against fractured stone as it held position behind the widening corridor Trafalgar had carved. Through Pipin’s eyes she tracked the flow of the swarm, adjusting her angle constantly. When clusters began compressing toward Trafalgar’s flank, she signaled without hesitation. Pipin dove in a streak of dark blue flame, releasing torrents that ignited entire sections of the courtyard. Void bodies combusted mid-charge, their silhouettes dissolving into ash as fire rolled outward in controlled bursts. The blue blaze did not spread wildly; it moved with intention, reinforcing Trafalgar’s momentum rather than disrupting it.

He felt the support without turning.

He pressed harder.

Another [Arc Slash] cut horizontally through a forming advance line, and he chained it immediately into a forward surge that scattered what remained. Beastkin units regrouped behind the cleared space, taking advantage of the breathing room to pull wounded away. Lycan fighters who had been seconds from collapse found themselves shielded by the void corpses piling at Trafalgar’s feet.

Then something shifted.

At the edges of the courtyard, one of the rifts flickered.

It did not widen.

It trembled—and collapsed inward, sealing shut in a violent snap of distortion.

Another followed.

Then another.

Five in total closed within seconds.

The difference was immediate. The influx did not stop entirely, but it slowed. The saturation of new bodies decreased enough to be noticeable. The battlefield did not feel infinite for the first time since the descent.

Trafalgar saw it.

Even in the height of Frenzy, his mind remained clear enough to register the change.

’Rhosyn?’

His blade pierced through a humanoid’s chest and he ripped it free.

’Is she closing the rifts somehow?’

Another collapsed in the distance.

’Good. Finally, some help.’

He cut down two more void creatures in one sweeping motion, blue flames reflecting across his armor.

’I just hope she doesn’t expose herself. If they see her, she’ll become a target.’