Trafalgar answered Caelum without hesitation while pulling a breathing mask from one of the corpses.
"First, we need to put Cynthia sowhere safe," he said, fitting the mask carefully over her face. "I don't know when she will wake up, and we don't know who else is awake either. We need to be careful."
Caelum glanced once at Cynthia, then toward the door.
"In that case, leave Lady Cynthia to . In the anti, you should dress as one of the attackers."
Trafalgar looked at him.
"Fine. You know this place better than I do, so I'll leave it to you."
Caelum nodded.
He moved with practiced speed, crouching beside Cynthia and lifting her with more care than his usual killing work suggested. She remained unconscious, her breathing steady beneath the mask. A mont later, Caelum carried her out of the wagon without making a sound.
Trafalgar watched him disappear through the door, then moved.
He stripped off his outer clothes quickly and took what he needed from the dead. Dark coat. Gloves. Mask. A plain weapon belt. He chose the cleanest pieces, the ones without blood sprayed across them, and adjusted everything in a hurry without making it look careless.
The clothes did not fit perfectly.
That could not be helped.
Most people seeing him in a gas-filled train under attack would not stop to judge tailoring.
Once dressed, he gathered the bodies and dragged them into the least visible part of the wagon. Behind seats, beneath the table line, away from the direct path to the door. It would not fool anyone who looked properly, but it would keep a casual glance from finding five corpses imdiately.
That was enough for now.
He also checked Cynthia's seat one last ti, making sure nothing obvious remained there. The severed threads from the dark elf had vanished completely. Only the faint marks in the upholstery suggested anything had reached that area at all.
Caelum returned a short while later.
The door opened, and the golden-eyed disguise stepped inside with the sa calm face as before.
"Young Master," he said softly, "that new attire suits you surprisingly well."
Trafalgar gave him a flat look through the breathing mask.
"Don't."
Caelum inclined his head.
"Lady Cynthia is safe. No one can access that place without a key sequence, and I altered the lock after entering."
"Good. That's one less problem."
"For the mont."
Trafalgar picked up one of the dead n's blades and turned it once in his hand, more for the disguise than because he intended to use it.
"We need to find the others. And Selara. She is the priority right now."
"Understood, Young Master." Caelum stepped closer, voice still low. "But before we move, we should think. The explosion ca from the sealed car reinforced with mithril. That is almost certainly where their target is. The gas was ant to put the passengers down quickly so they could search, steal, and leave without witnesses. Their plan was not built around a prolonged fight."
"It went wrong because so people stayed awake."
"Yes."
Trafalgar's eyes narrowed behind the mask.
"Do you know what they are looking for specifically?"
"I listened to several conversations while moving through the train," Caelum said. "They spoke of plans. Blueprints, most likely. Sothing important enough to move under heavy protection but not important enough to stop the entire route from being used."
"Blueprints?" Trafalgar muttered.
His mind went briefly to Selara.
Alchemists. Engineers. Magical technology. Aurevane. A train full of rich idiots and valuable materials.
Of course soone wanted to steal sothing.
"We move, then," Trafalgar said. "We find Selara. If sothing happens to her, everything we ca here to do becos much harder."
Caelum nodded.
"Understood."
Maledicta dissolved from Trafalgar's hand.
He kept the stolen sword at his side instead.
Together, he and Caelum left the wagon as if they were part of the group that had entered it.
The corridor beyond slled faintly sweet from the gas. The train lights still flickered every now and then, struggling against whatever damage the explosion had caused. Beneath their feet, the floor carried a strained vibration, the sound of ergency systems holding a wounded machine together while the storm battered it from outside.
They crossed into the next wagon.
Passengers lay everywhere.
So were slumped across seats. Others had slid to the floor when the explosion struck. A dwarf in an expensive coat lay face-down near a luggage rack, one hand still clutching a tal case. Two beastkin had collapsed against each other in the aisle. A pale woman with small horns slept with her head against the window, the curtain half-torn beside her.
None of them moved.
Trafalgar and Caelum slowed just enough to scan the wagon.
No one awake.
No hostile movent.
No hidden mana gathering beneath the breathing silence.
They moved on.
The next door opened with a quiet hiss, and the restaurant car ca into view.
The place that had seed refined earlier now looked ruined by panic that never had the chance to fully wake. Plates had fallen from tables. Glasses lay shattered across the floor. Food had spilled over white cloth, coffee running in thin brown lines between crystal fragnts. Passengers of several races were unconscious across the room, their fine clothes and expensive jewelry making the whole scene feel almost insulting.
One attacker stood near the far end of the restaurant.
He wore the sa breathing mask and dark clothes as the others, one hand resting on the hilt of a curved sword while he watched the unconscious passengers with bored impatience.
His head turned when Trafalgar and Caelum entered.
For a mont, he did not react.
The disguises held.
Then his attention dropped to the stolen sword at Trafalgar's side, and his eyes narrowed slightly behind the mask.
"Where are the others?" he asked. "You were supposed to sweep the student car."
Trafalgar did not answer imdiately.
Caelum stepped half a pace ahead, perfectly calm beneath the mask.
"Delayed," he said. "One of the passengers resisted longer than expected."
The attacker cursed under his breath.
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