SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant-Chapter 382: The Night Before the War [II]

Karon au Sylvanel closed the remaining distance at an unhurried pace.

Even before he spoke, attention gathered around him. Some glances were curious, others measured. He was known, if not as loudly as his older siblings, and the sight of a Sylvanel heir approaching a Morgain heir was enough to draw notice in a room already full of quiet assessments.

Up close, Karon was taller than Trafalgar by a noticeable margin. Broad-shouldered without excess, his presence carried the steady confidence of someone accustomed to command. There was no arrogance in it, only control. The kind that did not need to assert itself to be felt.

He extended his hand.

"Karon au Sylvanel," he said. His voice was even, unforced. "It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Trafalgar du Morgain. I’ve heard good things."

Trafalgar accepted the handshake.

The grip was firm. Not a test nor a challenge, but strong enough to register. Karon was powerful. That much was obvious in the way his hand held, steady and precise, like a blade balanced perfectly at rest.

"Likewise," Trafalgar replied, returning the pressure without effort. "From what I understand, we’ll be in the same group tomorrow. I hope I don’t disappoint."

Karon released his hand and turned his attention briefly to Aubrelle.

"Aubrelle has spoken highly of you," he said. "And you saved our lives the last time. I trust her judgment more than any rumor."

Trafalgar tilted his head slightly, curiosity surfacing.

"You’re sure about that?" he asked, a trace of dry amusement in his tone. "Some of the rumors around me aren’t exactly flattering."

Karon’s lips curved, not quite into a smile, but close enough.

"Perhaps," he said. "But those are old rumors. Or incomplete ones." He paused, eyes steady. "I’ve learned the cost of listening to the wrong voices. I won’t repeat that mistake."

The words carried weight, shaped by something left unsaid.

Trafalgar inclined his head once. "Understood."

Karon shifted his stance slightly, angling his body so the flow of people would pass behind him rather than between them. The movement was subtle, practiced. He spoke in a low voice, meant for coordination rather than ceremony.

"We’ll be moving with a force a little over two thousand," he said. "That includes the forward elements and layered support. From what I’ve been told, Morgain is contributing three hundred veterans."

Trafalgar nodded once. "Correct."

"The Sylvanel will cover the rear," Karon continued. "Not as an afterthought. As a stabilizing line. The other families will mirror that structure in their own formations. If anything breaks, we seal it before it spreads."

He paused, then added, "And yes. A large portion of our warriors fight at close range. Sword, spear, body. Not all elves prefer distance."

"I won’t have an issue with that," Trafalgar said. "My people are trained for coordination in tight spaces. They’re skilled. More importantly, they’re loyal."

That mattered more than numbers.

"There won’t be any confusion on our side," he went on. "And Aubrelle will be with us."

Karon’s gaze flicked briefly to her. Pipin watched them both, red eyes unblinking, as if cataloguing every word.

Aubrelle inclined her head slightly. "Our assigned sector isn’t the most fortified," she said calmly. "It’s quieter than the zones my siblings are being sent to. But that doesn’t mean it’s safe. If anyone slips through, it will be there."

Trafalgar understood the logic immediately.

They were young. Talented. Valuable. Too valuable to risk unnecessarily, but too capable to keep out of the field entirely. A measured placement. Protected, but not idle.

"Still," he said, mostly to himself, "we can’t afford to relax."

The thought lingered, sharpening as it settled. Especially not after the vision.

He didn’t say that part aloud. But the certainty of it pressed in all the same. Something would go wrong. Pipin shifted, feathers rustling softly. Aubrelle noticed the change in Trafalgar’s focus before anyone else did. She reached out and took his hand, her grip light but grounding.

The tension eased. Just enough. "I’m here," she said quietly to him.

Trafalgar drew a slow breath and let it out. "Good," he replied. "That makes a difference."

Karon broke the silence first.

"I still have a few matters to attend to," he said, his tone returning to its formal cadence. "We’ll speak again tomorrow."

Trafalgar inclined his head. "Tomorrow."

Aubrelle gave a small nod as well, Pipin shifting slightly on her shoulder as if acknowledging the departure in his own way.

Karon stepped back, then turned and moved away with the same composed stride he had arrived with. Attention followed him for a moment before dispersing, the room’s quiet rhythm resuming as though nothing of note had occurred.

When he was gone, the space around them felt noticeably emptier.

Aubrelle remained still for a few seconds, her fingers still loosely intertwined with Trafalgar’s. She hadn’t let go. Her head tilted slightly, as if replaying something she couldn’t quite name.

She had noticed it earlier. The brief distance in his eyes. The way his thoughts had drifted somewhere darker, somewhere ahead of them.

She stepped closer.

"Do you want to take a walk?" she whispered.

The question was soft, almost tentative, but there was intention behind it.

Trafalgar looked at her, curiosity surfacing through the lingering weight of strategy and foresight. "A walk?" he asked. "Where?"

Aubrelle’s lips curved into a faint smile. Pipin adjusted his stance, feathers catching the ambient light as his gaze shifted down the corridor ahead.

"Just follow me," she said calmly.

There was no urgency in her voice. No expectation that needed explaining. She was offering him something simple. Time without orders. Without maps or formations or futures pressing in from every angle.

Trafalgar hesitated only a moment before nodding.

"Alright," he said.

Aubrelle turned, guiding him with an easy confidence, her cane tapping softly against the floor as they moved. The noise of the hall faded behind them, replaced by quieter corridors and open air waiting somewhere beyond.

For the first time that night, Trafalgar allowed his thoughts to slow.

The war was still there. Tomorrow was still inevitable. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

But for now, he followed her.