Chapter 299: Blue Ash

Silence settled over the room like a physical weight.

No words followed the vision. No movement either. Trafalgar remained where he stood, a short distance from the bed, while Selendra sat motionless atop the sheets, her posture rigid, gaze unfocused as if her mind were still somewhere far away. The warm glow of the mana lamps felt dimmer now, almost intrusive, as though the room itself had witnessed something it wasn’t meant to hold.

Trafalgar didn’t rush to speak.

He already knew.

There was no doubt in his mind about the figure Selendra had described. The black armor, polished and imposing. The stance. The weight of inevitability around him. Trafalgar didn’t need a face to recognize himself.

’That was me,’ he thought coldly.

Armor of the Unborn Star.

He had already used it, so he knows that is the armor that Selendra described. But this... this wasn’t abstract. This wasn’t a distant branch that could be dismissed as unlikely.

There were bodies. Too many to ignore.

Humans. Elves. Beastkin. Monsters. Void creatures.

Void creatures.

That alone made his jaw tighten. Their presence changed everything. They didn’t appear without reason. They didn’t swarm battlefields by coincidence. Something would have to tear reality wide open for them to manifest in numbers like that.

And the fire.

Blue fire.

Blue flames that lingered, that devoured without fading, that burned long after everything else had turned to ash. Fire that did not behave the way fire should.

’This isn’t a distant future,’ Trafalgar realized. ’It’s part of this war.’

A decisive moment. A turning point soaked in blood.

And he was standing at its center.

His first instinct wasn’t fear. It was calculation.

If that future existed, then it could be altered. But not by charging toward it blindly. Not by forcing his hand too early. If he became the trigger, then the outcome Selendra saw would follow naturally.

’Then I don’t act,’ he decided

If he wanted to avoid becoming that version of himself, he had to remain a spectator for now. Learn. Wait. Let others move first.

Only then did Trafalgar return fully to the present.

Selendra sat on the edge of the bed, shoulders slightly hunched, fingers resting limply at her sides. Her usual composure was fractured. The sharp confidence she carried so effortlessly earlier had dulled into something quieter.

A faint trace of dried blood still marked the corner of her lips.

Trafalgar studied her for a moment.

Whatever she had seen had taken more out of her than she expected. That, at least, was genuine.

He exhaled softly and finally broke the silence.

"Are you satisfied now, Lady Selendra au Nocthar?" he asked calmly, his voice even, as if they were discussing nothing more than a concluded negotiation.

The words cut through the stillness.

Selendra blinked.

Once. Twice.

It took her a second to fully register his presence again, her gaze snapping into focus as if she had momentarily forgotten he was still there. She flinched slightly at the sound of his voice, then straightened, brushing a hand lightly against her lips as she became aware of the blood.

"...Satisfied?" she echoed, faintly confused.

Trafalgar didn’t repeat the question. He simply watched her, waiting.

The weight of what they had both seen lingered between them.

Selendra took a slow breath, as if only now realizing how tense her body had been. She wiped the remaining trace of blood from her lips with the back of her hand, then nodded once.

"Yes," she said quietly. "I suppose I am." Her gaze drifted for a moment before returning to him. "Forgive me for earlier. I didn’t expect it to be... that draining. I’ve never had a vision take that much out of me."

Trafalgar shrugged lightly, unconcerned. "It’s fine. We both got something out of it. That was the agreement."

Selendra studied him for a second longer than necessary, then gave a small, genuine nod. "That’s true."

Silence returned, but it was different now. Less sharp. More analytical.

"It was a battle," Selendra said at last, her tone steady. "Not a skirmish. Not an isolated incident."

Trafalgar nodded. "I reached the same conclusion."

"There were too many bodies," she continued. "Too many races. Humans. Elves. Beastkin. Monsters. Even void creatures." Her fingers curled slightly against the fabric of the bed. "No clear sides. Just... aftermath."

"And scale," Trafalgar added. "Nothing that small leaves a field like that behind."

Selendra met his eyes. "Which means it wasn’t insignificant. Whatever that moment was, it mattered."

They both knew what she meant without saying it out loud. This wasn’t some distant possibility. It was a branch of the present war. One that could be reached.

Then Selendra’s brow furrowed.

"The fire," she said slowly. "That’s what unsettles me the most."

Trafalgar leaned back slightly, gaze lifting toward the ceiling. "Fire is red. Even most mana-based flames stay within that spectrum." He exhaled. "Blue isn’t normal."

"No," Selendra agreed. "And it didn’t behave like normal fire either. It didn’t fade. It lingered. As if time wasn’t affecting it the same way."

"Persistent," Trafalgar said. "Almost anchored."

They fell quiet again, both turning the idea over in their minds.

"That wasn’t a spell," Selendra said after a moment. "At least, not one I recognize."

"Nor I," Trafalgar replied. ’Which is saying something.’

She glanced at him sideways. "I assume you don’t want to repeat the ritual."

"No," he answered immediately.

There was no hesitation. No calculation. Just certainty.

Selendra blinked, surprised despite herself. "That direct?"

"Yes."

She watched him for a moment, a faint, unreadable smile tugging at her lips. "I didn’t expect that."

"Some things don’t need a second look," Trafalgar said calmly.

Trafalgar rose from his seat without ceremony. There was no tension in the movement, no rush—just a quiet finality to it.

"I think that’s enough for tonight," he said evenly. "The contract’s fulfilled. Staying any longer would be unnecessary."

Selendra looked up at him, her posture still relaxed, but her expression more subdued than before. The sharp curiosity that usually danced in her eyes had dimmed, replaced by something more thoughtful.

"Worried about rumors?" she asked.

"Yes," Trafalgar replied plainly. "And not just for me. For you as well."

She considered that for a moment, then nodded once. "The guards outside are loyal. They didn’t recognize you, and they won’t ask questions. You could stay longer if you wished."

"I don’t," he said.

There was no offense in his tone. Just clarity.

Selendra stood as well. "Then I suppose this is where we part for now." She inclined her head slightly. "No promises. No threats."

"That’s fine," Trafalgar replied. "I prefer it that way."

They exchanged one last look before Trafalgar turned and headed for the door. It opened smoothly, the two vampiric guards outside remaining perfectly still, their gazes unfocused and uninterested as he passed between them.

He stepped onto the mana platform, runes flaring softly beneath his feet. The ascent reversed in silence, carrying him down through the vertical shaft of the Hotel Grandioso until the city lights of Carac rose up to meet him once more.

Minutes later, he was back outside. He circled around the building, slipping into the narrow rear street, and entered the small, unassuming motel waiting there like a shadow.

The contrast was almost jarring.

Inside his room, Trafalgar moved on instinct. Clothes discarded. A long, hot shower that washed away the metallic scent of blood and mana alike. When he finally collapsed onto the bed, naked beneath thin sheets, exhaustion settled into his bones—but his mind remained sharp, restless.

’Sleep later,’ he thought.

He raised his hand and invoked Shadowlink Echo.

The familiar weight formed in his palm. Mana flowed in, and the artifact shimmered briefly before a recorded voice filled the room.

"I didn’t expect your first day to end in the bedroom of a young lady, Young Master," Caelum said dryly. "And not just any lady—Selendra au Nocthar, of the vampire house no less."

Trafalgar snorted, a quiet laugh escaping him.

"I can see how that looks," he muttered.

The message ended, leaving silence behind.

He stared up at the ceiling, smile fading into something more serious.

’I’ll tell him,’ he decided. ’Everything.’

There was no hesitation in that choice.

Trafalgar trusted Caelum completely. More than anyone else in this world. He knew it with certainty—Caelum would sooner betray Valttair himself than ever betray him. That loyalty wasn’t born from duty or contracts. It was something deeper. Chosen.

And because of that...

Revealing what he had seen was safe.

Well there was another person who he trusted as much.

His thoughts shifted, softer this time.

Mayla.

The name surfaced without effort.

He trusted her just as much.

She had been there since the beginning—since the days when their relationship had been nothing more than master and maid, bound by formality and distance. Somewhere along the way, that distance had disappeared. What remained was something far more fragile... and far more precious.

She had stood beside him when he was weak. When he was angry. When the world demanded more than he thought he could give. Not because she had to—but because she chose to.

Partner. Lover. Anchor.

It had been too long since he had seen her.

Trafalgar exhaled slowly, a faint smile forming despite himself.

’When this is over,’ he thought, staring into the darkness, ’I’ll see her again.’