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

Rain drenched the cliffs, soaking through Kyle's clothes as he kept his back angled away from the sheer drop behind him.

His boots slipped slightly on the slick stone, but he caught himself just in time, eyes locked on the two white-haired, white-skinned, lifeless-eyed females that stalked toward him in eerie synchronization.

Every movement they made was measured, mechanical—and lethal.

Kyle exhaled slowly, calculating.

They had led him in a wide arc, always pushing, always attacking, and now, the cliff loomed just meters away.

One misstep and it would be the end of him.

He dodged a blade that came at him from the right, his shoulder narrowly avoiding the slice.

The sharp whistle of it cut through the storm, and Kyle countered with a low sweep, forcing distance between them.

But they didn't pause. The second one came for him immediately.

Kyle's eyes flicked between them. Identical. Unnatural. Broken beings animated by something far beyond mortal comprehension.

"Is this a curse? Is that what did this to you both?""

He asked, voice grim.

They didn't answer. Of course they wouldn't.

Kyle didn't stop.

"The divine… it uses tools like you without care. It makes puppets and discards them when they break. You were sacrificed for nothing."

That struck a nerve.

Both females snarled—not verbally, but in movement.

Their attacks became faster, heavier, desperate in their precision. One slashed low while the other feinted from above, trying to corner him.

Kyle ducked and pivoted, letting their fury pass over him.

"Truth's hard to swallow, isn't it? But you know I'm right."

He muttered, sweat and rain dripping into his eyes.

Their attacks pushed him to the edge of another cliff, this one narrower, more jagged than before. And that's when they began to sing.

Kyle winced instantly. It wasn't music. It was noise—corrupted, metallic, like glass being crushed under steel. His ears rang. His vision doubled.

The frequency hit something inside him that shouldn't have been touched.

He tried to step forward—only to realize his body wouldn't move.

His limbs trembled. Muscles locked up, then spasmed. It was as though his body no longer belonged to him. His power, his control, even his breath—everything was unraveling.

"Tch—damn it. Didn't see this coming…"

He growled through clenched teeth.

But even as he said it, he knew it wasn't true. He had ignored the signs, let himself be lured too far. That was his mistake.

One of the females walked slowly toward him now, her hollow eyes glowing faintly with divine mana.

She extended her hand, as if to push him—not kill, not stab—just… push.

Kyle's eyes narrowed as realization struck. That glow…

"Is it… the Celestial Diva? Are you controlling them directly now?""

He muttered.

It didn't make sense.

Still, it didn't matter.

The one before him stepped closer, hand outstretched, the edge of the cliff a breath away.

His body refused to respond.

His vision swam.

But then—a whistle through the rain.

A flash of steel.

A sword pierced the chest of the other female from behind—silent, clean, precise. Her grotesque melody stopped in an instant.

Kyle's muscles loosened.

Control snapped back into his limbs. He staggered away from the edge, breathing hard, power flickering back to life in his veins.

The white female before him hesitated, her eyes twitching toward her fallen twin. A flicker of confusion passed through her blank expression—just enough.

Kyle didn't waste the chance.

He summoned his blade and lunged.

Rain continued to pour over the cliff as Kyle lunged forward, blade in hand, and drove it clean through the heart of the second white-haired female.

Her eyes widened—not in pain, not in fear, but in mechanical recognition, as though registering data.

There was no scream, no resistance. Just a twitch, a shudder, and silence.

She collapsed where she stood.

Kyle exhaled and let his stance ease just a little, eyes shifting toward the first white female—the one whose inhuman singing had been silenced by a well-placed sword.

A familiar sword.

Melissa.

She stood over the crumpled figure, her breath quick, rain streaming down her face as she pulled her sword free from the woman's chest.

When her eyes met Kyle's, she stiffened, concern flashing in them.

"Young master, I apologize for interfering in your fight."

She said hurriedly.

Kyle walked toward her slowly, sword still at the ready, his eyes scanning the battlefield.

"You did good, Melissa. But don't join a fight you can't handle. Next time, you might not make it out alive."

He said.

Melissa lowered her head, but didn't reply.

She couldn't promise that. Not when his life was on the line. She would do it again—and they both knew it.

But before either could say more, something stirred beneath her feet.

A ripple of divine energy sparked from the corpse she had slain. The woman's eyes, once closed, opened halfway.

Her body jerked, limbs twitching unnaturally as divine power seeped through every fiber of her dead form. The wound in her chest began to knit itself shut. Bones shifted back into place.

"Move!"

Kyle shouted.

Melissa leapt back instantly, and Kyle raised his sword, mana coiling around the blade like lightning drawn to steel.

With a swift, two-handed swing, he brought the sword down on the twitching figure.

There was a flash of blue light—and silence.

The divine power reacted violently to Kyle's mana.

A shockwave rolled through the cliffside as the white body disintegrated into smoke, followed a breath later by the other.

Gone.

No corpses. No remains. Not even ashes. Just vapor, dissolving into the rain and wind.

Melissa's eyes widened.

"They… vanished?"

Kyle sheathed his blade, nodding solemnly.

"That's the nature of divine power."

He glanced at her, voice quieter now.

"The divine are selfish. Once it lays claim to something, it never lets go. Even after death, it keeps them bound. If it has no more use for them, it makes sure no one else can claim them either."

Melissa looked down at the fading remnants of smoke. Her grip on her sword tightened.

"They were… already dead, weren't they?"

Kyle gave a faint nod.

"Reanimated. Hollow. Empty of life. Just vessels, used until they broke."

There was a moment of silence between them, only filled by the endless downpour.

"That kind of existence is not something to envy. Being 'chosen' by a god sounds like a blessing. But more often than not, it's a cage. One with no doors."

Kyle continued.

Melissa's brows furrowed.

"So even in death… they weren't free?"

Kyle shook his head.

"No. Not until now."

The unease in her eyes didn't fade. But she held her silence, staring down at the last wisp of smoke as it disappeared into the wind.

Kyle placed a hand on her shoulder, grounding her.

"Don't let it get to you. You did well today. You saved me."

Melissa blinked up at him. His hand was warm, steady—just like always. He was the anchor she always returned to.

"…Thank you."

She murmured.

Kyle gave her a nod and turned his gaze toward the trail back down the cliff. "Let's head back. Sasha's still holding the ruins, and we'll need to make sure the flood is under control."

Melissa nodded. "Understood."

Together, they stepped away from the edge where death and divinity had collided. The divine puppets were gone for now, but the message was clear—its reach was growing.

And it would not stop.