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

The temple walls whispered of age—stone etched with stories long buried in time, yet firm beneath their feet.

Kyle glanced around warily as they made their way deeper into the structure.

Despite its age, the place hadn't crumbled. In fact, it stood sturdier than most castles he'd seen, as though its creators had poured more than just stone and mortar into its construction.

Silvy paused, fingers brushing against the mural of a silver tree painted on the wall.

"My mother was the last temple maiden. She used to bring me here when I was little. She said that one day, I'd take over."

She said quietly.

Kyle's gaze lingered on her profile.

"But you didn't."

"No. After the curse spread, everything changed. I had to survive. I took up work, tried to find remedies, food, shelter—anything. I abandoned the temple because I thought it wasn't important anymore."

She smiled faintly.

Her voice didn't tremble, nor did her eyes look back. She wasn't mourning the past, only acknowledging it.

Kyle folded his arms.

"It looks like it held out fine without you."

She gave a small nod.

"It did. And I'm glad. I thought it might have collapsed by now, but it's still standing. Strong. Just like us."

Kyle cast another glance at the walls. Cracks were beginning to form, fine fractures threading down from the ceiling. Mana drifted through the air in flickers—slowly unraveling.

"At the rate things are going, I'd say it's got a few more minutes left.""

He muttered.

Silvy's smile deepened with a note of sadness.

"It won't survive past today. But that's alright. It will have fulfilled its purpose."

They pushed open the final set of stone doors. Dust stirred in the air, lit by pale beams slipping in through the cracked dome overhead.

In the center of the room, surrounded by glowing runes and carvings long faded, was a small pedestal. Silvy approached without hesitation and knelt before the chest atop it.

She took a breath, her hands steady as she opened the ancient container. Inside, cushioned on silk that had aged to a pale gray, lay a single seed.

It looked brittle—dull, shrunken, and dry. But it pulsed faintly, as if something within it still clung to life.

"This is a gift from the first generation of elves. A safeguard, passed down through time."

Silvy said.

Kyle stepped closer, studying it.

"A seed?"

She nodded.

"A seed from the original tree. If anything ever happened to the world tree, this was to be planted and nurtured to replace it. It's meant to be our second chance."

She cupped the seed gently, as though afraid her fingers might break it.

"I had hoped we'd never have to use it. That the world tree would stand forever. But… I guess that was foolish."

Her voice faltered, just for a moment. Then she straightened her back and held the seed tighter.

"I'm glad you came with me, Kyle. But from here on, I'll take over. This is my responsibility."

She said.

Kyle didn't respond right away. He watched her—saw the set of her jaw, the resolve battling the fear behind her eyes. She looked determined, yes, but also… lost.

Like someone stepping into shoes too big, because there was no one else left to wear them.

"You're sure?"

He asked, voice quiet.

"I have to be. This is the task passed to my family for generations. If I can't do this… then everything we've endured will have meant nothing."

Her grip on the seed tightened.

Kyle glanced once more at the walls. Cracks widened as a low groan echoed from the ceiling. The temple was beginning to fail.

He stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Then I'll stand watch."

Silvy blinked.

"What?"

"You said it's your job now. Fine. Then I'll make sure nothing interferes."

She opened her mouth as if to argue, but something in Kyle's expression silenced her.

"…Thank you."

She said finally, the word almost inaudible.

The temple would fall. The old world would fade. But this seed—the faint heartbeat of a new beginning—was still alive.

And that would be enough.

Kyle's gaze darkened as he watched Silvy cradle the seed in her hands.

There was something final in the way she held it—something quiet, painful, and determined.

The glow of her mana already flickered faintly, drawn into the ancient seed nestled against her palm.

"…Do you intend to sacrifice yourself for the greater good?"

He asked, voice low.

Silvy scoffed immediately, rolling her eyes.

"Sacrifice myself? Please. I have no intention of dying."

Her tone was dismissive, almost haughty, but she didn't meet his gaze.

Kyle stepped closer, unimpressed.

"Don't lie to me, Silvy. You know it's no use. I can read you like the back of my hand."

Silvy's smile twitched, faltering. She let out a short, strained laugh—sharp around the edges, like it was hiding something.

"You really shouldn't be able to do that. t's unfair. You shouldn't know me this well."

She muttered. "

Kyle didn't answer, and the silence stretched between them, heavy with understanding neither of them wanted to say out loud.

"…This isn't a goodbye. I'll always be here. Supporting you. Supporting the elves. I made a promise. This… this is just something I have to do. Alone."

Silvy said softly. Her eyes stayed on the seed, now starting to tremble with a quiet hum of energy.

Kyle's fists clenched. The temple trembled faintly around them, ancient stone reacting to the awakening force within the seed.

He could feel it—the pulse of something deep and powerful starting to rise.

"Silvy—"

"No. You have to leave, Kyle. This seed can't grow unless it's given everything I have left. And I want it to grow. I want it to save everyone. You can't stop me."

She finally looked at him, eyes steady.

The seed flared, trembling with light.

A radiant glow engulfed Silvy's hands and wrists as her life energy flowed into it—steadily, resolutely. Her breathing slowed as her body began to falter under the weight of the transfer.

Kyle stepped forward, reaching out instinctively, but Silvy's legs buckled beneath her before he could catch her. She fell to her knees, but her hands never let go of the seed.

"Silvy! You're out of mana—stop! You're going to burn out completely!"

Kyle dropped beside her, trying to steady her.

She gave him a weak smile. Her lips were pale now, and her arms trembled as she raised one hand with the last of her strength.

"…Thank you. But you have to go now. Please."

She whispered.

The seed pulsed again, brighter this time. The light was becoming unbearable—filling the room, the temple, the very air.

"Silvy—"

"I said go! I don't want you to see what happens next. Just… trust me, Kyle. Please."

She shouted, voice ragged. She pushed him—feeble, but enough.

Tears stung his eyes, but Kyle obeyed. He stood, fists clenched, and turned away—his footsteps heavy as he made his way toward the exit.

Behind him, the seed began to germinate. The light flared like a second sun, and Silvy closed her eyes, still smiling as her strength finally left her.

'No, I cannot fall yet. I need to see the end of this fight. I still have time.'