SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant-Chapter 399: The Fall of the Thal’zar [XIII]

Chapter 399: Chapter 399: The Fall of the Thal’zar [XIII]

From Trafalgar’s position, a loud hum spread through the entire castle.

It was the same area they had secured earlier, one of the Thal’zar escape routes. For now, it was still under control.

Trafalgar was there with Aubrelle, Garrika, and Arthur. Aubrelle remained seated nearby, Pipin close to her, watching the surroundings while Trafalgar spoke with Arthur. Garrika stayed close, covering the area alongside them.

The zone was secured, but that did not mean it was safe.

Karon had not returned yet after going to help his younger brother. Because of that, their forces were still split in half. It was a dangerous situation. Anything could happen at any moment, and they could not afford to lower their guard.

Trafalgar kept his attention on the situation in front of him.

This was not the time to relax.

They had to stay focused.

Trafalgar turned toward Arthur.

"How are the Morgain troops distributed?" he asked.

Arthur answered immediately, his tone respectful and precise, as if he had been waiting for the question.

"They’re covering the flanks," he said. "Split into small groups to avoid being overwhelmed at a single point. The other families’ forces are holding their own sectors as well. There’s also a separate unit keeping the enemy prisoners secured. No movement from them so far."

Trafalgar listened without interrupting.

The information aligned with what he had expected. The formation was stable. Not perfect, but functional. Enough to hold the area if nothing unexpected happened.

"For now, everything is under control," Arthur added. "No breaches or losses."

Trafalgar nodded once.

For now.

That was the part that mattered.

The situation felt balanced on a thin edge. Quiet, but not calm. The kind of stillness that came before something larger forced its way through. He could feel it in the way no one spoke unless necessary, in how every sound carried more weight than it should have.

KRSHHH.

The sound cut through the air without warning.

Then again.

KRSHHH.

Trafalgar felt it before anyone said a word. His jaw tightened almost immediately. He knew that sound. Too well. It carried the same wrongness as before, the same sensation that made his skin crawl and his instincts recoil. It was not metal tearing or stone breaking. It was something deeper. Something that did not fit.

He hated it.

Aubrelle reacted first.

She straightened sharply, Pipin’s shared sight flaring as her attention expanded outward all at once. Her voice came fast, stripped of hesitation.

"Rifts," she said. "They’re opening everywhere."

Another pulse rippled through the air.

KRSHHH.

"Not just inside the castle," Aubrelle continued, already tracking the spread. "They’re appearing here too. All across our zone."

That was enough.

Trafalgar’s hand moved, Maledicta answering the call without delay. The weight of the sword settled into his grip as naturally as breath, familiar and steady in contrast to the distortion spreading around them. This was no longer a matter of holding a route or waiting for orders.

This was escalation.

Around them, soldiers reacted instantly. Formations tightened. Weapons came up. Conversations died where they stood. Whatever fragile balance had existed a moment ago was gone, torn apart by the sound echoing again through stone and air.

KRSHHH.

Trafalgar lifted his gaze toward the surrounding paths, already measuring distances, angles, movement.

"Stay focused," he said calmly.

Maledicta was already in Trafalgar’s hand.

The sword felt heavier than usual, not in weight but in intent, its presence settling as the situation shifted from unstable to openly hostile. Around him, Obsidian Wings was already formed, the black plates locked in place along his body. Only the helmet remained.

He did not rush to put it on.

There was a reason for that.

Void Creatures feared the armor.

Not the man beneath it. Not the sword alone. Obsidian Wings itself carried something that unsettled them on a fundamental level. The shape, the presence, the pressure it radiated made their movements hesitate, their advance fracture before it fully formed. Whatever instinct guided those things recognized the armor as a threat they were not meant to face head-on.

That fear was real.

And it was useful.

He would use it.

Before sealing the armor, Trafalgar reached into his inventory and brought out the potion Valttair had given him. A birthday gift, temporary by design, meant to be used when restraint was no longer an option.

He drank it in one motion.

The liquid had no real taste. No bitterness, no sweetness. It barely registered on his tongue. But the effect was immediate.

His core surged.

Mana flooded through him, dense and overwhelming, nothing like the flow drawn from the environment. This was imposed, compressed, violent in its abundance. It pressed outward from his core, filling every channel until it felt as if his body might crack under the pressure.

Temporary.

Twenty-four hours.

That was the limit.

Trafalgar exhaled slowly, letting the excess settle without trying to suppress it. There was no point holding back anymore. Not now.

This was no longer about maintaining control of a route or buying time.

This was about staying alive.

Void Creatures did not choose targets. They did not recognize alliances, banners, or intent. Anything that moved was prey. Anything that breathed was something to be torn apart.

No one here was exempt.

Trafalgar lifted the helmet and locked it into place.

The wings etched along its sides flared faintly as it sealed, the obsidian surface swallowing the surrounding light. The pressure around him sharpened, focused, no longer restrained.

He looked ahead, toward the paths where the rifts were already spreading.

"From here on," he said evenly, his voice carrying without needing to rise, "we don’t waste motion, and we don’t hesitate. Whatever comes out of those rifts gets put down immediately."

The helmet settled into place.

Black obsidian sealed around Trafalgar’s head, the winged contours locking with a muted sound as the last restraints disengaged. The pressure of Obsidian Wings intensified instantly, no longer restrained, no longer subtle. It rolled outward in a way that made the air itself feel heavier.

He turned toward Arthur.

"Hold," Trafalgar said, voice steady. "Keep the lines moving. Direct properly. Above all, survive."

Arthur met his gaze without hesitation.

"Yes, my lord."

The sound returned.

KRSHHH.

It tore through the space like a wound being forced open again.

Above them, Pipin launched into the air in a sharp burst of motion. His form shifted mid-flight, pale feathers darkening, igniting into deep blue flame as his body expanded. The phoenix took shape fully, wings spreading wide as fire traced every movement. There was no restraint left in him now.

Rifts bloomed across the area.

Not one. Not a few.

Dozens. Perhaps hundreds.

They opened without pattern, tearing into existence as if the space itself had given up resisting. From them came movement. Low shapes poured out first, hounds without faces, their bodies warped and uneven, moving close to the ground with unnatural speed. Trafalgar had seen those before.

Then something else emerged.

Larger figures followed, their forms more defined. Humanoids stepped through the rifts with unsettling calm, their bodies smooth and wrong, but unlike the others, their mouths were clearly visible. Too visible. Rows of teeth exposed as they opened and closed slowly, as if testing the air.

Trafalgar’s gaze lingered on them for a fraction longer.

He had never seen that kind before. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

’So there’s more than one type...’ he thought. ’And these feel different.’

Stronger. More aware.

Higher-ranked, perhaps, than the ones he had encountered before.

They did not hesitate.

They surged toward anything that moved.

Trafalgar stepped forward.

Maledicta rested in his hand, its presence absolute, cutting through the distortion around him. Garrika moved with him immediately, staying close, positioning herself where she could strike without breaking his momentum.

They would hold.

They had to.

’This is coming from the Void Creature inside,’ the thought surfaced, sharp and unwelcome. ’If it falls, the rifts should collapse.’

It was the only hope left.

Then Aubrelle’s voice reached him, tense and unmistakably strained.

"Karon isn’t coming back," she said. "They’ve surrounded him too. And it’s worse than we thought."

She paused, tracking through Pipin’s sight.

"They’re attacking everything," she continued. "Thal’zar forces included. They’re not choosing sides."