SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant - Chapter 253

Chapter 253: Chapter 253: The Ninety-Third Attempt
The first rays of dawn crept over the academy, painting the training grounds in pale gold. The grass was still wet with dew, and the crisp morning air carried the faint hum of mana from the barriers that surrounded the field.

Trafalgar stood in the center, arms crossed, his usual black training shirt loose around his frame. He glanced toward Barth, who was arranging a neat pile of scrolls beside him — one hundred of them in total — and already sweating despite the cold.

A few meters away, Xavier moved like a blur. The crimson-haired boy’s spear sliced through the air with a whistle, each movement sharp and deliberate. The scarf around his neck fluttered with every motion, and faint trails of red mana rippled behind the weapon.

“Warm-up or showing off?” Trafalgar asked lazily.

Xavier grinned without breaking his flow. “Both.”

Barth gave a small nervous laugh, kneeling beside the scrolls. “T-this is gonna take all day, isn’t it?”

Trafalgar smirked faintly. “You’re the one who wanted to learn Spectral Guard. A hundred scrolls means a hundred tries. I hope you brought breakfast, because we’re not leaving until you pull it off.”

Barth swallowed hard, staring at the pile. “R-right…”

He picked up the first scroll with trembling hands. As he unrolled it, faint runes shimmered along its surface — pale blue and fragile like frost on glass.

Trafalgar took a step forward, extending one hand. “Watch carefully. Every movement, every change in flow. You can’t blink through any of it.”

Barth nodded quickly, his yellow eyes wide and focused.

With a pulse of mana, the scroll ignited with a soft azure glow. A thin barrier flickered briefly around Trafalgar’s arm before dissipating like smoke in the wind. The scroll disintegrated into glowing ash.

“D-did it work?” Barth asked, hopeful.

Trafalgar shook his head. “For me, yeah. For you? Not yet.”

Xavier leaned on his spear, smirking. “One down. Ninety-nine to go.”

Barth groaned but managed a weak smile. “At least it’s a round number…”

Trafalgar folded his arms again, gaze calm but sharp. “Get used to failing, Barth. It’s how you learn. And if you want to make yourself useful, you’ll need to get through a lot more than scrolls.”

Barth nodded, taking a deep breath. ‘I can do this… I have to.’

The second scroll flared to life. Then the third.

The soft crackle of mana filled the air as another scroll burned out, its faint blue light fading against the morning sun.

Trafalgar exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders. “Again.”

Barth hurried to grab another scroll from the pile, unrolling it with shaky fingers. “R-ready.”

“Good. Xavier,” Trafalgar called, glancing toward the red-haired boy. “You’re up.”

Xavier twirled his spear, smirking. “Thought you’d never ask.”

The ground under his feet cracked slightly as he burst forward. The spear sliced through the air in a clean, horizontal arc.

Trafalgar didn’t move — he simply activated the scroll.

A thin blue veil of spectral energy wrapped around his forearm, humming faintly. The spear struck the barrier with a loud metallic thud before the light fractured like glass, dispersing in a shimmer of fading particles.

Barth’s eyes widened, tracing every flicker, every distortion in the shield. His mana sense struggled to keep up.

The shield vanished after barely ten seconds. Trafalgar tilted his head, examining the afterimage. “Held longer this time. Not bad.”

Xavier stepped back, spear resting over his shoulder. “Ten seconds, huh? Not sure I’d call that impressive.”

Trafalgar shot him a faint smirk. “Ten seconds is the difference between living and dying. You’d be surprised how long that really is.”

He nodded toward Barth. “Did you catch the flow?”

Barth blinked, snapping out of his trance. “I—I think so? It felt… like it was drawing mana inward, not outward. A loop instead of a pulse.”

“Exactly,” Trafalgar said, activating another scroll. “The trick isn’t creating the shield — it’s maintaining the rotation. Once it stops moving, it shatters.”

Barth frowned slightly, his eyes flickering with faint light as he focused on the residual energy in the air. “My class… Archivist… it’s slowly recording the structure. But it’s still incomplete. I’d say I’ve only grasped maybe ten percent of it.”

Trafalgar smirked faintly. “Ten percent, huh? Not bad for a start.”

Barth gave him a tired look. “That means there’s still ninety percent missing.”

Trafalgar chuckled quietly, his tone light but dry. “Yeah, I know. We’ve only gone through sixteen scrolls so far. You didn’t think it’d be quick, did you?”

Barth sighed, rubbing his temples. “It’s going to take forever at this rate.”

“Then stop thinking about forever,” Trafalgar replied, summoning another scroll between his fingers. “Focus on the next one. One scroll at a time, that’s how you’ll learn.”

Xavier leaned on his spear with a grin. “Sixteen down, eighty-four to go. Easy.”

Barth shot him a flat glare. “You’re not helping.”

Trafalgar rolled his shoulders, the faint glow of mana gathering once more in his palm. “Let’s keep going. The faster you fail, the sooner you’ll succeed.”

By midday, the sun was high and merciless, baking the academy’s training fields in gold heat. Sweat rolled freely down Barth’s face, dripping onto the dirt. The once-neat pile of scrolls had dwindled to less than half.

Each time Trafalgar activated one, a new flicker of blue light rippled in front of him — the ephemeral glow of [Spectral Guard]. And each time, Barth stood a few meters away, silent, focused, and utterly still.

Trafalgar dropped the remnants of another scroll, its ashes curling away into the wind. “That makes fifty-one,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Barth’s voice was hoarse. “It’s… working.”

Trafalgar raised a brow. “How much?”

Barth closed his eyes for a moment, sensing the flow of mana in his core. “About seventy percent. My class has almost finished storing the skill.”

“Seventy?” Trafalgar smirked. “That’s a good pace. Faster than I expected.”

Xavier whistled, leaning his spear against his shoulder. “Guess the kid’s got talent after all.”

Barth let out a breathless laugh. “It’s not talent. Just… repetition. The [Archivist] class doesn’t let me skip the process. I have to see everything, every line of mana, until it sticks. Of course, if I had a better talent, that would help, of course…”

Trafalgar crossed his arms, nodding. “That’s fine. Slow progress is still progress. Besides—” he pointed to the half-empty crate of scrolls “—we’ve got plenty left.”

Barth groaned quietly, glancing at the pile. “Plenty, he says…”

Xavier chuckled and jabbed his spear into the ground. “Hey, at least you’re learning something. When I trained, I just got hit until I got better.”

“That explains a lot,” Trafalgar muttered.

Barth stifled a tired laugh but kept his eyes fixed on the next scroll. His fingers trembled slightly as he prepared the next one, the faint hum of mana already starting to resonate through the field again.

Trafalgar watched him in silence for a moment.

‘Seventy percent… not bad at all. At this rate, he’ll manage it before sunset.’

He let a faint, satisfied grin curl across his lips. “Alright, Barth. Let’s see that focus of yours. Time to make the last half count.”

Barth nodded, determination flickering in his tired eyes. “Right.”

The light had turned a soft amber by the time footsteps echoed across the training field. Cynthia appeared at the edge of the grounds, her white hair catching the dying light as she hurried toward them.

“Barth!” her voice rang out, sharp and worried.

Her brother flinched mid-gesture, nearly dropping the scroll in his hands. “C-Cynthia? What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you that,” she shot back, walking briskly toward him. “You’ve been out here since morning. You look exhausted—your mana’s barely stable.”

Barth tried to laugh it off, but his breath came uneven. “I’m fine, really. Just one more set and I’ll be done.”

Trafalgar stood with his arms crossed, calm as ever. “He’s fine, Cynthia. I’ve been monitoring his mana flow. If he burns out, I’ll stop him before he drops.”

She frowned at him, her golden eyes narrowing. “You don’t understand him like I do, Trafalgar. When he sets his mind on something, he forgets to eat, drink, or even breathe properly.”

Xavier leaned lazily on his spear and chuckled. “Sounds familiar.”

Trafalgar shot him a sidelong glance. “Yeah, I wonder who that reminds me of.”

Barth sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sis, please. I’m almost there. Just… let me finish this.”

Cynthia hesitated, then let out a long sigh. The sternness in her eyes softened. “…Fine. But I’m staying. If you faint, I’m dragging you back myself.”

Trafalgar smirked faintly. “Deal.”

He raised the next scroll, channeling mana into it until blue light flared to life. A translucent barrier spread outward, wrapping him in a swirling shimmer.

Barth’s focus sharpened. His eyes traced every flicker, every ripple of mana flow. His breathing slowed to match the rhythm of the shield’s pulse.

A minute passed. Then two.

The scroll burned away, yet the glow didn’t fade.

A new light spread around Barth — faint but steady, forming the same spectral barrier on its own.

Trafalgar’s brows lifted slightly. “You did it.”

Barth blinked in disbelief, then smiled weakly. “I… I actually learned it.”

Xavier grinned, tapping the butt of his spear against the ground. “Took you long enough, but damn, that’s clean work.”

Cynthia stepped closer, her voice gentle now. “You finally got it, Barth.”

He nodded, still staring at the lingering shimmer before it vanished completely. “Yeah… guess I did.”

Trafalgar gave a small, approving nod. “Good job. [Spectral Guard], huh? Took almost a hundred scrolls — but it’s yours now.”

Barth looked up at him with genuine gratitude. “Thanks… really. For everything.”

“Don’t thank me,” Trafalgar said, looking at the sky painted in orange hues. “You did the work.”

The training field had fallen quiet, the last traces of mana fading into the evening air. Fireflies had begun to flicker around the edges of the trees, and the smell of scorched parchment still lingered faintly.

Barth dropped onto the ground with a heavy sigh, his arms resting over his knees. “That’s… all of them.”

Trafalgar exhaled slowly, stretching his shoulders. “Almost. You’ve got a few left, right?”

Barth nodded tiredly and pulled a small bundle of remaining scrolls from his bag — seven in total, bound with a thin string. He handed them out, smiling faintly. “You guys helped me, so… take them. I don’t need more of this one.”

Xavier raised a brow but accepted three. “Heh. Thanks, kid. Maybe I’ll test them out later.”

Trafalgar accepted the rest — four scrolls — and, with a simple motion of his hand, dematerialized them into his system inventory. A faint chime sounded in his mind.

[You have received: 4x Spectral Guard – Rare (Scroll)]

He dismissed the notification with a thought. “Appreciated,” he said simply.

Barth chuckled weakly. “You’ll use them better than I could anyway.”

Cynthia crouched beside him, gently patting his shoulder. “You did more than enough for one day. Let’s head back before you pass out.”

Xavier twirled his spear once before dematerializing it, the weapon dissolving into a thin shimmer of light. “Yeah, I’m starving. Training with you two always ends in overtime.”

Trafalgar smirked faintly but didn’t respond. His attention drifted for a moment, recalling the faint pulse that had resonated from his [Shadowlink Echo] earlier that morning — a low hum of mana that had broken the stillness of dawn.

He’d listened to the message before heading out for training, Caelum’s composed voice echoing in his mind:

“Young Master Trafalgar, this is Caelum. Your father, Lord Valttair, will soon contact you and the rest of the family. The summons will concern the upcoming Council. Prepare yourself.”

Trafalgar had replayed the message more than once. Even now, standing under the dim evening light, the words lingered in the back of his mind.

‘So it’s finally happening,’ he thought, exhaling softly. ‘The Council…’

He turned back toward the group, forcing a faint smile. “Good work today. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

Barth looked up. “Heading back already?”

“Yeah,” Trafalgar said, hands slipping into his pockets. “Got a few things to sort out before the night’s over.”

Without another word, he started down the dim path toward the dorms.