Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent

Sasha let out a heavy sigh as another surge of water slammed into the glowing dome she had constructed with her runes.

The barrier shimmered, holding steady—but only just. Cracks of light spidered across the mana shell before quickly sealing back up.

Her fingers twitched, aching from overuse.

The ruins etched into the earth pulsed under her feet, fighting off the divine energy flooding toward them from upstream.

"Damned cursed water. This wasn't in the job description."

She muttered, sweat clinging to her brow.

The rain hadn't let up for days, but it wasn't just nature's tantrum anymore.

The waves were unnatural, surging with force and frequency like someone was guiding them.

She could feel the divine traces tainting every drop, gnawing away at the mana reinforcement within her runes.

No matter how carefully she'd layered the foundation, it was clear the runes were struggling.

What worried her most wasn't the barrier breaking immediately—it was the slow erosion of control.

Each minute, the divine energy grew more potent, and her ruins dimmed a little more. She gritted her teeth.

"If I didn't finish the full circle on the west side yesterday, we'd be swimming right now."

She whispered.

The familiar sound of boots approaching pulled her from her concentration. She didn't need to look to know who it was.

"Still alive?"

Kyle's voice was calm, but she could hear the weight behind it.

Sasha didn't turn to face him, still keeping her focus on the barrier.

"Barely. Thanks for asking. As you can see, I'm struggling."

She gestured toward the dome where another wave splashed across the top.

Kyle moved closer, eyes scanning the surface of the barrier.

"You did good. If you hadn't raised this in time…"

"We'd all be under five feet of water. Which, let's be real, it wouldn't give."

She turned now, meeting his gaze.

Kyle's expression darkened slightly at the mention of the water and what could happen.

"That's not an option. Hold on just a little longer. I'll handle the ones behind this."

Sasha blinked, startled.

"Wait, you found something?"

"I can feel traces of divine energy concentrated around the cliffs. It's faint, but it's there. That's where I'm heading."

Kyle said, voice low and sure.

Sasha's confidence flickered for a moment.

"Kyle, be careful. You said it yourself—this is divine work. Whoever's behind this isn't just strong, they're dangerous."

"I've faced worse. You've got your hands full already. Don't worry about me—just keep this place safe."

He said with a wry smile.

Sasha hesitated, then nodded slowly.

"Fine. You want to play hero, go ahead. But if you die, I'm not doing your burial."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Kyle gave her a rare smirk before turning away.

As he disappeared into the mist, Sasha exhaled and turned her attention back to the barrier.

Another wave, stronger than before, smashed into it with a crackling hiss.

She threw her arms out and reinforced the failing portion of the runic field, groaning as her mana reserves dipped dangerously low.

"Damn it, Kyle…You better not screw this up."

She muttered.

The rain continued to pour, harder now. The sound of rushing water from upriver grew louder, and Sasha could feel another wave building. Her ruins pulsed in warning.

She braced herself and whispered.

"One more round."

But deep down, a small voice whispered her fear: what if this time, she didn't hold it back?

She clenched her fists and pushed that thought away.

Kyle had trusted her to protect this place. And she would.

No matter what.

______

Rain lashed against Kyle's coat as he stood atop the cliffs, his sharp eyes scanning the shifting mist and soaked earth for any trace of the ones responsible.

The divine energy in the air was thick—oppressive. It clung to the skin, heavier than humidity, numbing the senses like a thick fog seeping into the mind.

His usual ability to detect mana signatures was crippled by the sheer volume of power saturating the region.

Kyle narrowed his eyes.

"It's like trying to see through oil..."

The Queen's divine influence was subtle in design but overwhelming in effect.

It masked everything, making it nearly impossible to isolate the perpetrators. Kyle crouched down, pressing his fingers to the ground.

The soil was damp, but something was off. The rain carried not only divine essence—but purpose. It wasn't random.

"Tch... I need a different approach."

He closed his eyes and activated his system, filtering away all mana-related noise.

He dimmed his senses, tuning out mana entirely, and instead honed in on raw life signatures.

His vision darkened briefly as the shift completed.

And then he felt it—millions of presences, flooding the space like a hive of insects.

Bugs, birds, roots, even microbes in the soil. Most were insignificant, nothing more than background noise.

He searched for something different.

Suddenly—sharp pain.

A blade sliced across his upper arm. He hissed and stumbled back, clutching the wound. His concentration faltered, and the sensory overlay blinked out.

He spun around. A woman in white stood there.

Skin pale as snow, hair soaked and clinging to her face. White pupils stared at him blankly, devoid of emotion. No life signature. No breath. No mana.

Dead.

But moving.

"...A corpse? No... resurrected. And I couldn't sense her because she's not alive."

Kyle muttered, assessing quickly.

The woman lunged again. Kyle blocked with his armguard, the force of the blow pushing him back.

The movements were stiff but powerful, guided by an unnatural precision. Her attacks lacked hesitation or preservation—they were meant to kill.

Kyle exhaled and took a step back, dodging the next strike.

"Alright... I lost this round."

He said aloud, more to himself than to her.

But the woman didn't pause. No smug remarks. No acknowledgment. Just another relentless attack.

Kyle parried, ducked, and spun around.

"You're not trying to kill me right away. You're pushing me... somewhere.""

He murmured.

Every attack forced him to move further along the cliff's edge, descending the slick slope. She was guiding him, not fighting randomly.

"A trap?"

He clenched his jaw. The wound on his arm was shallow, but it stung. And worse—he was being drawn away from the village.

"Clever. They want me away from Sasha. From the ruins.""

He muttered, deflecting another swing.

He switched tactics. Rather than resist, he began analyzing her movements. Where was she leading him? And more importantly—why now? And why him of all people?

The rain fell heavier. The fog thickened.

He dodged to the left, only to find another white figure materializing through the mist.

Another corpse.

"More than one...You're all empty vessels."

Kyle's eyes narrowed.

Two now, both swinging with ruthless efficiency.

Kyle grunted, backing away as he studied them. There was no pulse, no spark of will. They were like puppets dancing to the tune of a divine puppeteer.

And the music was getting louder.

Kyle tightened his grip on his dagger, adjusting his breathing. He had to find the conductor. He needed to trace the divine thread back to its source.

But first—he had to survive the dance.

"Fine. I'll follow the rhythm."

He said quietly.

The two corpses advanced again, and Kyle let himself be pulled deeper into the storm.