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

Rain continued to fall in heavy sheets as Kyle and Melissa made their way back to the village.

The storm had lost its earlier sense of divine pressure, but the soaked ground, the darkened skies, and the endless downpour still cast a gloomy weight over everything.

By the time they stepped past the barrier Sasha maintained, the villagers were already gathering near the center of town, whispering in hushed voices.

Grand Duchess Amanda emerged from under a wooden overhang, her cloak soaked at the edges.

Her expression was unreadable at first, but the moment she saw Kyle, she stepped forward quickly, concern flickering in her eyes.

"Kyle. What happened?""

She called, her voice sharp against the sound of the rain.

Kyle didn't hesitate.

"I took care of the two white women responsible for the divine rain. But this isn't over."

He said, keeping his voice low.

Amanda's brows furrowed.

"What do you mean?"

Kyle glanced at Melissa, then turned back to the Grand Duchess.

"Those two had already exhausted most of their divine mana trying to flood the village. That's the only reason I was able to defeat them. Next time… I'm not sure we'll be as lucky."

Amanda frowned.

"So there will be a next time."

"It's likely. The enemy doesn't seem the type to give up after one failure. And worse, our neighbors won't stay silent forever either. The political pressure, the divine interference… it's all going to escalate."

Kyle said.

She folded her arms, her tone steady.

"Then what can we do? We can't keep reacting forever. We need a way to fight back."

Kyle nodded.

"We need to get stronger. Fast."

Amanda raised a brow.

"Stronger?"

"I have a method. But it's dangerous. It pushes the body and mind past normal human limits. If anyone joins, they have to be prepared to face pain, failure, even death. But if we succeed, we might be able to stand against what's coming"

Kyle said.

Amanda considered his words, her gaze steady.

"You mean to train?"

"I mean to temper. Refine ourselves in fire until we're sharp enough to cut through divine threats. I'll begin soon. And I'm opening the offer to you and your soldiers."

Kyle replied.

The Grand Duchess tilted her head slightly.

"And what if we can't keep up with your training?"

"Then you don't train. This isn't a game. Only those who are ready to bleed should step forward."

Kyle said bluntly.

Amanda let out a breath, her lips curling into a half-smile.

"I'll speak to my guards. I won't force them, but I'll tell them the truth—what we're up against, and what's at stake. If no one else joins…then I will."

She looked at him, firm and clear.

Kyle's expression flickered—part admiration, part concern.

"You don't have to do that. You're more important than your duty."

Amanda chuckled softly, shaking her head.

"Maybe. But I want to do what I can. If I'm to ask others to stand and fight, I want to be worthy of standing beside them."

Kyle watched her for a moment, silent.

The rain continued to fall.

"You're a good ruler."

He said at last.

Amanda gave him a tired, but genuine smile.

"I try."

Melissa remained quiet at Kyle's side, watching the exchange.

The young master she admired, the noblewoman who had earned her respect—they were both preparing to walk paths stained with blood and sacrifice. But they weren't afraid.

That was the difference between leaders and rulers.

Kyle glanced around the village, seeing the uncertain expressions, the soggy tents, the children clinging to their mothers.

He saw the people he was meant to protect.

"Let's give them hope."

He murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

Amanda stepped closer.

"Then let's begin. When do we start?"

Kyle met her gaze.

"Tomorrow."

______

In the grand capital of Clertion, Okla, rain had not touched the white-gold towers or glass domes of the Holy Temple.

The air was still, heavy with incense and divine magic.

Lanterns cast muted light down the marble corridors, where the carved murals of angels and warriors loomed like silent judges over those who passed beneath them.

A priest, no older than twenty, hurried through the halls, his sandals slapping softly against polished floors.

Anxiety clung to his face as he approached a chamber guarded by two solemn knights in silver plate.

They wordlessly opened the grand double doors for him, revealing a room filled with the sickly sweet scent of crushed herbs and sacred oil.

Inside, the Grand Priest of Clertion knelt beside a small, pale figure lying on a stone altar.

The Saintess. She trembled under a blanket of woven silver thread, her eyes wide open but unfocused, mouth slightly parted in a soundless scream.

Her body twitched with each pulse of divine energy forced into her veins.

The young priest flinched when a muffled groan escaped the girl's lips. His heart twisted at the sight.

'She's just a child… Why must she suffer like this if the Goddess loves her?'

As the question formed in his heart, the Grand Priest turned to face him.

The elder's white robes shimmered faintly, lined with divine script, and his golden eyes narrowed with authority.

"Do not let your heart stray into blasphemy. What news have you brought?"

He said sharply, his voice echoing in the sacred room.

The younger priest startled, nodding quickly to dispel the doubt in his eyes.

"Forgive me, Your Holiness. I… I bring grave news. We've lost contact with two more of the guardians. Their flames in the sanctum have extinguished."

A silence followed. The Grand Priest slowly stood, his features serene, though a small flicker of something unspoken passed behind his gaze.

"I see. Then our beloved Goddess must have called two more of her soldiers to her side."

He said softly.

The young priest hesitated.

"But… if I may—"

"You may not. The will of the divine is not ours to question. The Goddess gives, and it takes. We serve. That is our role."

The Grand Priest interrupted gently, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder with practiced warmth.

The priest's brow furrowed with unspoken questions, but the firm grip on his shoulder was enough of a warning.

"Yes, Your Holiness. I'll… return to my duties."

He whispered.

"Good. Forget these troubling thoughts. Trust in the Queen's light. It will guide us."

The Grand Priest replied with a small, patient smile.

The boy nodded again and turned, leaving the chamber with slower steps.

As soon as the doors closed behind him, the Grand Priest's gentle expression cracked.

His lips curled downward in frustration, and he let out a long, bitter sigh.

"This cannot continue. My authority… our divine dominion… it is being tested."

He muttered, voice low and sharp.

He turned to look down at the Saintess. Her body had stilled, her chest rising in shallow, exhausted breaths. The waves of pain seemed to have subsided—for now.

"I will not allow it. Not by some heretic buried in the mud. Not by some impure insect who thinks they can defy the Goddess's will."

He said, more to himself than anyone else.

He stepped closer to the altar, gazing down at the fragile girl, her white hair clinging to her cheeks.

The Queen had chosen her. But even that divine favor came with agony.

He closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the rhythm of her breathing.

"If we must burn this world to reassert the Goddess's truth, then so be it."

He whispered coldly.

Behind him, the sacred chamber remained quiet save for the soft, involuntary sound of another pained gasp from the Saintess.

And then silence returned.