Chapter 593: Chapter 593: A Bad Wagon to Choose

"Understood, Young Master."

The words changed the room more than the bodies on the floor.

The dark elf’s expression shifted first.

His eyes moved from Caelum to Trafalgar, and this time he did not look at him like a boy who had woken up at the wrong time. Black hair tied low. Dark-blue eyes. A sword that did not look like something a normal academy student should carry. And a servant who had just called him Young Master after cutting down one of their own.

The name came to him quickly enough.

"Trafalgar du Morgain."

The remaining vampire turned his head slightly.

"What?"

The dark elf’s jaw tightened beneath the mask.

"That’s Trafalgar du Morgain."

For the first time, the human beside him looked genuinely afraid.

Everyone had heard things. Not all of them believed the stories, but that did not matter now. The war had left enough rumors behind. A young Morgain with black hair. The bastard who had stopped being harmless. The one whose name had started appearing in reports that should have had nothing to do with someone his age.

The dark elf clicked his tongue.

"Shit."

Trafalgar did not answer.

Caelum moved before the silence could stretch.

The remaining human barely had time to raise his sword. Caelum’s first dagger slipped under the guard and opened the man’s forearm from wrist to elbow. The second blade came in low, cutting across the thigh before the human could retreat. He cursed, stumbled, and swung with more fear than skill.

Caelum stepped inside the attack, turned his body just enough to let the sword pass beside him, and drove one dagger into the man’s ribs.

The human choked.

Caelum pulled the dagger free and let him collapse, but did not waste time finishing him yet. His eyes were already on the vampire.

The vampire moved with the speed of his bloodline.

He rushed Caelum from the side, claws lengthening beneath his gloves, pale face twisted with rage after watching the other vampire lose his head. Caelum met him without retreating. Their blades crossed once, twice, metal scraping in short, ugly sounds that cut through the storm’s distant roar.

Trafalgar focused on the dark elf.

The elven mage had no intention of fighting fairly. Mana gathered around both his hands now, dark-green and viscous, threading between his fingers like living roots. He sent the first spell toward Trafalgar’s legs, not to kill, but to bind.

Trafalgar cut through it with Maledicta.

The spell split apart before reaching him, scattering into green sparks against the floor.

The dark elf’s eyes narrowed. "You’re faster than the report made you sound."

"You had a report?" Trafalgar asked, stepping forward.

"Everyone has reports on you now."

"Then yours was bad."

The elf’s mouth twisted. "Or maybe you were meant to stay asleep."

He threw two more spells at once.

Trafalgar used [Severing Fang], and Maledicta released a diagonal pressure slash that tore through the first spell and broke the second before it could unfold. The force continued past the magic and carved across the floor between them, leaving a deep line in the expensive wood.

The dark elf jumped back.

Trafalgar followed.

The vampire slammed into a table behind them, Caelum’s dagger buried in his shoulder. The vampire hissed and tried to bite at his arm, but Caelum twisted the blade and forced him down against the broken surface.

The remaining human, bleeding badly from the ribs, tried to crawl toward the door.

Caelum noticed.

A dagger flew from his hand and pinned the man’s wrist to the floor.

The human screamed.

"Stay," Caelum said, still holding the vampire down with his other blade.

The dark elf realized the fight was collapsing too quickly.

His eyes darted once toward the seats behind Trafalgar.

Toward Cynthia.

Trafalgar saw the decision form before the spell moved.

The elf’s hand snapped sideways, and thin green threads shot across the wagon, not toward Trafalgar, but toward the sleeping girl behind him. They slipped through the air with frightening precision, crawling toward her neck and wrists, meant to hold, cut, or crush depending on how much pressure he applied.

Trafalgar turned.

The dark elf’s voice sharpened.

"Stop."

Trafalgar stopped.

Caelum’s eyes flicked toward Cynthia, but he did not move either.

The threads hovered barely above her skin.

The dark elf’s breathing had grown heavier behind the mask. Fear had stripped away the arrogance from his voice, but desperation made him more dangerous than before.

"Drop the sword," he said. "Both of you. If either of you moves, I tear her apart."

Trafalgar’s face lost all warmth.

The elf noticed and swallowed.

"I’m serious," he said, pressing his fingers together slightly. The threads tightened enough to brush Cynthia’s throat. "I don’t care who you are. I’ll kill her if I have to."

Behind him, the vampire struggled against Caelum’s grip.

"Do it," the vampire spat. "Make him kneel."

The dark elf’s eyes remained on Trafalgar.

"Your servant too. Tell him to let go."

Trafalgar lowered Maledicta slightly.

The elf mistook it for obedience.

"Smart."

"No," Trafalgar said. "You misunderstood."

Mana poured into Maledicta.

The air inside the wagon began to vibrate.

The dark elf’s fingers clenched to trigger the spell, but Trafalgar used [Morgain’s Last Dusk], channeling energy into the blade until the entire carriage seemed to hum around it, and the diagonal ascending cut passed through the space between them with a sound so thin it felt almost surgical. The slash reached the green threads first, severing them before they could tighten around Cynthia, and continued into the dark elf’s body, tearing from hip to shoulder in a single ruthless line that left no room for regeneration or recovery.

The elf stood there for a breath, eyes wide.

His spell vanished.

Blood opened across him.

He tried to speak, but the mask filled with red before any words could leave. His knees buckled, and Trafalgar stepped closer, catching him by the front of his coat before he could fall backward.

"You should have aimed at me."

The dark elf’s hand twitched once.

Trafalgar let him drop.

Caelum finished the vampire at the same time. The man tried one last time to break free, but Caelum’s dagger slid from shoulder to throat in one controlled motion. The vampire convulsed against the table, fangs bared, before his body lost strength and slipped to the floor.

The human pinned near the door sobbed once.

"Please..."

Caelum retrieved the dagger from his wrist and looked down at him.

The man tried to raise his free hand, maybe to surrender, maybe to beg.

Caelum ended it before either became a problem.

The wagon quieted again.

Only the sound of the storm remained, muffled by the train walls, along with the faint hiss of the sleeping gas still lingering in the air.

Trafalgar turned toward Cynthia.

She had not moved.

He crouched beside her and checked her pulse again. Steady. Her breathing was stable. The threads had not reached deep enough to injure her.

His grip on Maledicta loosened slightly.

Caelum wiped his dagger clean with a cloth taken from one of the dead men and stood near the door, listening for movement beyond it.

Five bodies lay across the luxury wagon now. Blood spread under seats, along the floor, and near the broken table where the vampire had fallen. It looked grotesque against the clean interior of the train.

Caelum glanced once toward Cynthia, then back to Trafalgar.

"What would you like to do now, Young Master?"