SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant-Chapter 379: Family Reunion [I]

The place was quiet. There wasn’t much noise at all.

No one approached Trafalgar, as always. No greetings, no small talk, no attempts to bridge the distance. He stood there without being addressed, unnoticed in the way he had grown used to.

’It seems everyone is focused and serious for when Valttair returns. It’s logical, really.’

The thought crossed his mind plainly, without bitterness or complaint.

Everyone remained completely silent.

The atmosphere was tense but controlled, as if the room itself were holding its breath. No one shifted unnecessarily. No one spoke out of turn. Whatever personal thoughts or rivalries existed were set aside for the moment.

Then the silence was broken.

Heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor leading toward the hall.

They were slow and deliberate, each step carrying weight as it struck the stone floor. The sound drew closer, unmistakable in both rhythm and presence.

Valttair was returning.

The doors opened.

Valttair stepped into the hall.

His posture was firm, unyielding, the kind that did not need to assert authority because it already occupied it. There was no haste in his movement, no sign of fatigue from travel. If anything, his presence carried a quiet satisfaction, subtle but unmistakable, as though the outcome of his meeting had unfolded exactly as he intended.

He came to a stop at the head of the room and let his gaze pass over the gathered family without lingering on any single face.

When he spoke, his voice was cold and even.

"I met with Elenara au Sylvanel," he said. "In private."

The words settled into the silence without resistance.

"There were no intermediaries," Valttair continued. "No formalities meant to soften intent. We spoke directly. Face to face."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"It was not a minor negotiation," he went on. "It was a conversation between equals. About what each of us wants."

A brief pause followed.

"And we spoke openly about the war," Valttair finished. "And about our interests."

The hall remained silent, every ear fixed on him.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then Lady Verena stepped forward.

As the second wife, and now the foremost presence in the room in the absence of Lady Seraphine, her voice carried weight. She did not raise it, nor did she soften it.

"And what is it that you want, my dear?" she asked.

Valttair turned his gaze toward her without hesitation.

"What I want," he said, "is the fall of House Thal’Zar."

A ripple passed through the room, subtle but undeniable.

"But that," Valttair continued calmly, "would be foolish." He folded his hands behind his back as he spoke. "To erase one of the Eight would leave seven. And seven would not remain seven for long. Power would shift. Conflict would follow. The balance would break."

His eyes moved across the assembled heirs.

"That is not intelligence. Control is."

The statement landed with finality.

"Thal’Zar will be controlled," Valttair said. "The Sylvanel and the Morgain will do so together."

Before the weight of the declaration could fully settle, another voice joined in.

Lady Ysolde, the fourth wife, inclined her head slightly, her golden-amber eyes sharp with intent.

"And what role will our family take in this war?" she asked. "A house like ours will not remain on the sidelines. We must earn our respect."

Maeron was the next to speak.

"I’m aware of the rumors, Father," he said evenly. "If we are to be involved directly, then place me at the front. I intend to answer the trust you’ve shown me with results."

Valttair did not correct him.

"So you’ve heard," he said. "Good. Then we won’t waste time."

His gaze swept the room once, deliberate.

"Helgar and Maeron will be granted improved territories," Valttair announced. "Each of you will also administer a Gate. The same authority held by Lysandra and Trafalgar."

The shift in the room was immediate.

Eyes moved—briefly, carefully—from Lysandra to Trafalgar, then away again. Lysandra remained composed, as she always did, her expression unreadable. Trafalgar felt the attention pass over him like a current, present but restrained.

Lady Verena did not bother to hide her reaction. Pride settled openly on her features as her gaze found Helgar.

Helgar stepped forward.

"Thank you, Father," he said, his voice carrying the same ferocity as his build. "I swear I will meet the expectations you’ve placed on me. You’ll see it in the war. I’ll achieve something worthy of celebration. Something others will envy."

Valttair looked at him without warmth.

"I expect you to keep that promise," he said.

Nothing more was added. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Lady Naevia stepped forward next.

Her movement was measured, her posture as composed as ever. The soft tones she favored did little to mask the tension beneath her words.

"My dear husband," she said calmly, "I believe Sylvar and Nym also deserve consideration. What has been announced tonight risks appearing... selective. Favoritism has consequences."

A subtle stir passed through the room. Not agreement, not dissent. Attention.

Valttair turned to her.

His expression did not change.

"Favoritism," he repeated, tasting the word once before discarding it. "Is not what governs this family."

His voice was cold, precise.

"Merit does."

Naevia held his gaze, but Valttair did not soften.

"Sylvar and Nym have yet to achieve a single feat that warrants elevation," he continued. "They have potential. They have opportunity. What they do not have is proof."

His eyes moved briefly, deliberately, toward Trafalgar.

"Even him," Valttair said, "I ignored until he demonstrated value."

The statement landed heavier than any accusation.

"For more than fifteen years, Trafalgar existed at the margins of this family," Valttair went on. "Not because I wished it so, but because he had nothing to offer. When that changed, so did his standing."

His gaze returned to Naevia.

"Sylvar and Nym are no different. They are not denied. They are simply unproven."

Naevia’s lips tightened, but she did not interrupt.

"The war will give them their opportunity," Valttair said. "If they accomplish something worthy, they will be rewarded. If they strengthen the name Morgain, they will rise. If they do not, they will remain where they are."

He let the words settle.

"I will say this once," Valttair continued, his tone sharpening. "I have never denied anyone what they deserved. Not once."

Silence followed, thick and absolute.

"This family does not survive on blood alone," he said. "It survives on results."

Valttair straightened slightly, reclaiming the room without effort.

"Those who bring strength to the name Morgain will always be rewarded," he said. "That has never changed."

His gaze swept across the assembled heirs and wives alike.

"And now," Valttair concluded, "I will explain the details of my conversation with the elf."

The room held its breath.

The real meeting was about to begin.