SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant-Chapter 390: The Fall of the Thal’zar [IV]

They ended up back to back without needing to say a word.

Rain slicked the ground beneath their feet, turning churned earth and blood into the same dark, unstable surface. Trafalgar adjusted his stance slightly, Maledicta angled low, while Karon held position behind him, blade in hand, shoulders squared.

Eight lycans had them surrounded.

Two of them remained at range, positioned higher up along broken stone and fallen structures, old-style rifles already braced and aimed at the space between Trafalgar and Karon. The other six advanced in a loose semicircle, claws flexing, weapons raised, closing the distance a step at a time.

It was not a comfortable situation.

Dodging projectiles while keeping six close-range fighters in check would demand attention on too many fronts at once, especially with rain dulling footing and visibility. Trafalgar took it in with a quick scan, not letting his gaze linger anywhere for too long.

Karon’s sword rested ready in his hand, but the way he held it made the truth obvious. It was a tool, not an extension of his will. Useful in close quarters, but not where his real strength lay.

Trafalgar felt it immediately.

Sword Insight did not stir.

There was nothing to learn here.

That, at least, was a relief.

In the middle of a battlefield, clarity was a weapon of its own. Not being dragged into unnecessary analysis meant fewer openings, fewer mistakes born from distraction. Right now, simplicity was survival.

They had already pushed far enough to claim ground. This stretch of the escape route had been contested, bled over, and partially secured. What remained was cleanup, the kind that decided whether enemies slipped through later or died here and now.

Trafalgar shifted his weight, keeping his back aligned with Karon’s.

Rain continued to fall.

The first shot cracked through the rain.

Stone exploded a step from Trafalgar’s foot as he twisted aside, Maledicta rising on instinct to deflect a second projectile that screamed past his shoulder. One of the six lycans lunged immediately after, forcing him to turn the blade and meet claws with steel while keeping his stance tight enough not to expose Karon’s back.

They moved without breaking formation.

"Can you deal with the two shooters?" Trafalgar murmured, his voice low and steady between impacts.

Another shot rang out. Karon shifted half a step, roots bursting from the ground just enough to ruin the firing angle before the projectile could reach them.

"Leave them to me," Karon answered without hesitation. "I’ll immobilize them."

A lycan struck from the left. Trafalgar parried, redirected the blow, and drove his boot into its knee to force space.

"You’ll have to finish them," Karon added, already reaching for the terrain beneath his feet.

"Understood," Trafalgar replied at once.

That was all that needed to be said.

The agreement settled instantly, clean and absolute.

Karon would control the ground and shut down their movement.

Trafalgar would execute.

Rain streamed down his visor as he reset his footing, blade steady, attention divided cleanly between the six closing in and the two threats waiting in the rear.

The plan was set.

Now it was time to carry it out.

The six lycans attacked almost at the same time.

They didn’t rush blindly. They came in from different angles, claws and weapons overlapping, trying to force Trafalgar to give ground or turn too far in one direction. He didn’t. He stayed close to Karon, movements tight and efficient, Maledicta cutting through incoming strikes, redirecting blows rather than overcommitting. Steel rang, claws scraped against obsidian, and bodies collided in the rain-slicked space between them.

Karon held his position, eyes flicking past the chaos.

He wasn’t looking at the six in front of them.

He was looking beyond.

In the rear, the two shooters adjusted their footing, old rifles raised again, fingers tightening as they lined up another shot. The moment their posture settled—

The ground answered Karon’s call.

Roots burst upward without warning, thick and violent, tearing through mud and stone alike. They coiled around the shooters’ legs and torsos, dragging one of them hard into the ground before he could even react. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs, the rifle slipping from his grasp as roots pinned him in place.

The second shooter reacted faster.

He wrenched himself free from the first surge, stumbling sideways, boots skidding as he tried to reclaim distance. His aim wavered. His position was gone.

That was enough.

Trafalgar activated [Severance Step].

He broke from the line in a sudden, curved dash, his movement blurring as he slipped past the reach of the six lycans without giving them a clean opening. Rain scattered in his wake. One heartbeat he was there—

The next, he was beside the trapped shooter.

The man barely had time to look up.

Maledicta flashed.

Trafalgar cut cleanly through the arm that was reaching for the fallen rifle, the severed limb hitting the ground with a wet thud. The scream never finished forming. Trafalgar stepped in and drove the blade forward, precise and final.

The body went still.

The roots loosened their grip as the first shooter collapsed, lifeless.

Trafalgar pulled his blade free and turned back toward the fight.

One shooter down.

The rain kept falling.

The second shooter didn’t hesitate.

The moment he realized his partner was dead, he turned and ran, boots splashing through mud and blood as he tried to put distance between himself and the fight. His rifle was useless now, his breath coming fast and uneven as panic set in.

He didn’t get far.

Roots burst from the ground beneath his feet, thick and coiling, wrapping around his ankles and forcing him to stumble. He tore free with a desperate yank, only to find more roots rising ahead of him, twisting up from the earth to block every path he tried to take.

The ground itself betrayed him.

Karon moved.

He surged forward through the rain, closing the distance before the shooter could find another opening. More roots erupted at his command, hemming the man in, forcing him back until there was nowhere left to go.

The shooter raised his weapon in a last, futile attempt.

Karon didn’t slow.

His sword flashed once, clean and efficient, cutting through the man before he could fire. The body collapsed into the mud, roots loosening as life left it behind.

Karon straightened, blade lowering as rain ran down its edge.

The second shooter was down.

The threat at range was gone.

Now only the six remained.