SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant-Chapter 449: The Week After the War

A week had passed since the war ended. Inside one of the upper chambers of the Morgain castle, Trafalgar stood in front of a tall mirror fastening the final buttons of his dark formal shirt. He was preparing to depart for the Cemetery of Swords. Today was the funeral of Sylvar du Morgain.

During the past week, many things had happened. The first piece of news had come through Caelum only two days after the war ended. Garrika had finally woken up. Trafalgar had not been able to visit immediately, but the report had been clear. She was recovering well and would survive. The Academy had already been informed that he would not be returning yet, and fortunately there had been no objections from their side.

He had also traveled briefly to Euclid, where he met Mayla. She had been worried since the final battle began, but the moment she saw him standing there unharmed much of that worry faded from her expression.

Outside the castle walls, the world itself had begun to move again. People were still cautious, wars between Great Houses did not end without leaving scars behind, but slowly normal life was returning. The Gates that had been sealed during the conflict began opening again, trade routes restarted, and caravans began moving across territories that had been silent for weeks.

As the world settled, stories started spreading as well. Names of fighters who had distinguished themselves during the war traveled quickly between cities and kingdoms. One of the most talked about figures was Helgar. Trafalgar had not crossed paths with his brother during the final battle, but according to the stories circulating across the world he had accomplished remarkable feats during the fighting. Even those stories, however, were often followed by another name.

Trafalgar du Morgain.

The perception people had of him had changed completely. A year ago many had considered him useless, the weakest heir of House Morgain and a disappointment within one of the Eight Great Families. Now the rumors described something very different, a warrior who had stood at the center of the battlefield and altered the outcome of the war. Along with those stories, other rumors began to appear as well. Some believed a new SSS-ranked talent had emerged in the world, and the conclusion was difficult to avoid for anyone paying attention. No one became that strong in such a short time without something extraordinary behind it. Little by little, the world was beginning to realize it.

Inside House Morgain, things had changed as well. The difference was subtle at first, but impossible to ignore once Trafalgar began paying attention to it.

The way people looked at him had shifted.

After the war, Trafalgar had surpassed most of his siblings. In terms of raw combat power, he now stood near Nym. Even that comparison might not hold forever. If his strength continued growing at the same pace, it would not be surprising if he surpassed her as well.

The reason for that rapid growth was something Trafalgar understood very clearly. His Passive Skill, the ability that granted him power every time he killed a Void Creature, had accumulated during the final battle to a level even he had not fully expected. The battlefield had been overflowing with them, and by the time the fighting ended the effect had compounded far beyond what months of ordinary training could have produced.

Mana flowed through his body with far greater density than before. His movements felt sharper, faster, more controlled. The change had not come gradually. It had happened in a single battle.

During that same week, Trafalgar had also met Rhosyn in Euclid. She had arrived there together with Mayla, and their meeting had not lasted long nor been particularly formal. They spoke privately, away from the attention that now followed Trafalgar almost everywhere he went.

Rhosyn had not wasted time with pleasantries. "When everything settles," she said, her voice calm but firm, "we need to talk seriously."

The reason was obvious. The Void Creature that had escaped during the battle was not something they could simply forget. It was different from the others, intelligent, capable of adapting and planning. Leaving something like that roaming freely in the world was not a problem that would solve itself. It was a threat waiting to grow.

Trafalgar had nodded when she mentioned it. He understood that very well.

Before the conversation ended, he had thanked her for something else. "For closing the rifts." During the battle, the number of Void Creatures would have been far worse if those rifts had remained open. Rhosyn had quietly sealed several of them while the fighting continued elsewhere, preventing the battlefield from being completely overwhelmed.

Rhosyn simply shrugged when he mentioned it. "I did what I could." Her expression grew slightly more serious. "But appearing openly would have been a mistake." She looked toward the city streets beyond the window. "If the world had discovered that a Primordial was walking through the middle of that battlefield..."

She did not finish the sentence. The implication was obvious. It would have caused chaos far worse than the war itself.

Trafalgar finished fastening the last button of his shirt and reached for the long black coat resting on the chair beside him. The fabric was heavy, designed for the cold waiting high above the castle. The Cemetery of Swords stood at the highest peak of Morgain territory, where the wind never truly stopped and the snow never melted. He slipped the coat over his shoulders, adjusted the collar, and walked toward the door.

When he opened it, Caelum was already waiting in the corridor, as always. Trafalgar stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind him. "How is the situation with Darian? Is he handling it well?"

"I left a clone with him," Caelum answered immediately, which meant he knew exactly what was happening inside House Thal’zar. "Darian is working diligently. There is a considerable amount of paperwork, but he is managing the situation within his family well." A faint pause followed before he added something unusual. "Even I did not expect him to act this decisively."

From the reports Caelum had given him, Darian had already begun stabilizing the house. Maris had not caused any problems either, and on the contrary had begun helping her brother manage the transition. The funerals of Kaedor and Lucien had already been held, and the Thal’zar castle itself had been rebuilt quickly along with most of their primary territories. Still, Darian had needed to show strength. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

The first heir had resisted the new order more than anyone else, and Darian dealt with it simply, placing him under confinement. Officially it was described as temporary isolation inside a private estate. In reality it was a prison disguised as a mansion.

They continued walking down the corridor. Through the tall windows along the wall, the mountain slopes were visible beyond the castle, rows of wyverns waiting outside with wings shifting slowly in the falling snow as handlers moved between them tightening harnesses and checking equipment.

Today the gathering would be small. There had not been enough time to summon distant branches of the family, and only the core members were present, Valttair, the direct heirs, their uncles, and the four wives of the patriarch. No extended relatives. Just the heart of the family.

When Trafalgar stepped outside, the cold struck immediately. Snow fell steadily from the gray sky and thick mist drifted across the mountainside. The wyvern waiting for him was much larger than the one he had ridden before, a war wyvern, and the soldier guiding it stepped aside as he approached. Around him, servants, guards, and members of the Morgain military looked at him differently than before. Many of them had been present during the war, had seen what he had done, and the stories had spread quickly through the ranks.

At the front of the formation, Valttair mounted his wyvern first. Behind him the family prepared to follow. Now there were eight siblings where once there had been nine. The ascent was about to begin.