SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant

Chapter 662: An Important Conversation [V]

"Me."The word did not need anything more to wound the room, and Trafalgar hated that part most of all. He had said it as a fact, because facts were easier to handle than fear, but Mayla's fingers tightened around his hand at once, Cynthia stared at him with the pale, hollowed expression of someone being forced to accept that danger could have a bloodline, and Aubrelle's unfocused red gaze remained angled toward him while Pipin stood so rigid beside her hand that even the bird looked offended on her behalf.

Cynthia was the first to find her voice, though it took her a breath to shape it into something that did not crack. "How do you say that so calmly? You are talking about people from an ancient bloodline possibly wanting you dead because they blamed your mother for something that happened before you were even born, and you say it as if you are discussing bad weather."

"Bad weather is harder to stab," Trafalgar replied.

Mayla closed her eyes, and for a strange, absurd instant, Cynthia nearly laughed despite the pressure in her chest.

Aubrelle did not laugh, though the corner of her mouth shifted faintly. "That answer is very you, but it does not make the situation less grave. If Rhosyn is searching for the survivors, then sooner or later she may find one who still carries that hatred. Do you know how many there are, where they are, or whether any of them have already heard of you?"

"Not enough, no, and possibly," Trafalgar said, before lifting a hand when Aubrelle's expression sharpened with disapproval. "I know, that is an unpleasant set of answers. Rhosyn has more knowledge than me, but even she does not have a full map of where everyone went after the collapse. Some hid. Some were injured. Some may have changed names, moved through old territories, or buried themselves so deeply that even another Primordial would need years to drag them out."

Mayla's thumb moved across the back of his hand, not soothing exactly, more like a quiet reminder that she was there. "And you trust Rhosyn?"

"Yes," Trafalgar said. "I trust her more than I expected to. She has no reason to protect me except my mother, and somehow that reason has been enough for her to suffer more than most people would endure. She is not harmless, and she is certainly not simple, but she is on my side."

Cynthia rubbed her fingers together around the cup, slow enough to stop the tremor from becoming obvious. "You said Caelvyrn knows too. I do not know who that is. I mean, I know the name sounds old and important, which is usually terrible news when it comes from your mouth, but I do not actually know him."

Trafalgar breathed out through his nose. "Right. You might not know who Caelvyrn is. Caelvyrn is an ancient dragon. An actual ancient dragon who lived during the older era and remembers more about the world than most libraries pretend to contain."

Aubrelle's fingers paused on Pipin's feathers. "An ancient dragon," she repeated. "Of course. At this point, I suppose asking why there is an ancient dragon involved would be foolish, but I am going to ask anyway."

"He is connected to Rhosyn and to the Primordials' old history," Trafalgar said. "He is also helping with something important."

That important thing was not a weapon, at least not in the crude sense. Trafalgar explained it as carefully as he could without spilling pieces that were not entirely his to reveal. He said they are creating a hidden domain that is being prepared, something older and more difficult than a simple safehouse, with Caelvyrn's knowledge anchoring the work and Rhosyn's memory guiding the shape of it.

Dravok was the other pillar of that effort.

Trafalgar explained that Dravok was another surviving Primordial and one of the few powerful enough to support a project of this scale. If Rhosyn was the hand searching through the ruins, and Caelvyrn was the ancient mind helping prepare the domain, Dravok was the strength standing behind it.

Caelvyrn and Rhosyn were building it around principles that belonged to an age long before modern civilizations. Time itself would not flow normally there. Exactly how much slower it would move compared to the outside world was something Trafalgar still did not know. Caelvyrn had been frustratingly vague whenever the subject came up, which usually meant the old Primordial was either hiding a surprise or waiting until the foundation was complete before making promises.

What Trafalgar did know was that the place would allow him to train for periods that would be impossible in the real world. Days outside might become months within. Months might become years. The scale remained uncertain, but the intention did not. The enemies gathering around him were growing stronger, the Void Creatures were becoming more active, and every answer he uncovered seemed to reveal three new threats waiting behind it. Simply progressing at a normal pace was no longer enough.

Dravok would be involved in that training as well, which was perhaps the most alarming detail of the entire project.

Trafalgar did not present any of this as some grand destiny. He described it the way he described most things: as a necessity. If stronger enemies were coming, then he needed to become stronger faster than they expected. The domain was a tool designed for exactly that purpose.

He also told them what their place near him meant. Mayla, Aubrelle, and Cynthia were not being pulled into this because he wanted to make them useful pieces. They were being told because secrets this large had a habit of turning loved ones into leverage. Mayla had already been hurt once because of him, and Trafalgar had no intention of allowing ignorance to become another blade against her. Aubrelle carried Rosenthal, marriage, and Pipin, all of which made her visible in ways enemies could exploit. Cynthia had Barth, and now this fragile entrance into his private circle. None of those ties were harmless anymore.

Trafalgar did not apologize for existing, nor for having enemies born from sins committed before he drew breath. He only told them the truth without sanding down its edges. If they stayed near him, danger would follow. Not every day nor every hour. But eventually, through Void Creatures, Primordials, Vaelion, old grudges, or the simple rot of noble politics, something would reach for them because they stood close to him.

"I am not telling you this so you walk away," Trafalgar said at last, his mouth curving faintly despite the weight in his voice. "I would prefer if you did not, honestly. It would be extremely inconvenient after this much emotional exposure."

That earned the first real warmth the room had managed in a while. Not because the fear vanished, but because all three of them understood what he was hiding under the joke. Mayla had chosen him long ago and was not the sort of woman to abandon that choice because the danger had gained older names. Aubrelle had married him knowing his life would never be peaceful, and this only explained why trouble seemed to orbit him like a cursed moon. Cynthia was afraid, visibly so, but fear did not push her away from the table.

The conversation ended there, not because everything had been solved, but because everything that needed to be said tonight had finally left Trafalgar's mouth. The food had gone cold, the cups were half-empty, and the apartment felt heavier than before, yet more honest. Mayla rose to gather the plates, Aubrelle called Pipin back to her hand, and Cynthia stood to help with a steadiness she had not possessed when she first entered.

Trafalgar watched them move around the table, carrying away the remains of dinner and the last pieces of a life he had kept divided for far too long.

For tonight, that was enough.