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

Everything had finally settled.

The new elf tree now stood proudly in the heart of the ruins, its radiant mana slowly spreading across the land like the sun rising after a long storm.

The once-lost connection to the world's life force returned, and with it came a surge of emotion from the elves.

One by one, they felt their mana return, gentle and warm—like an old friend coming home after years of absence.

There was silence at first. Then, soft gasps. Then cries of joy.

Some fell to their knees in prayer. Others laughed through their tears.

They had believed themselves forsaken—cursed to fade into obscurity—but now, hope bloomed with every breath they took.

When Kyle returned with Silvy unconscious in his arms, the entire village stood to greet him.

The elf chief bowed low, along with the elders. No words were needed; their eyes held all the gratitude they couldn't voice.

A few hours later, the elves prepared a feast in honor of their salvation.

The air filled with the smell of roasted herbs and sweetbread. Laughter echoed through the trees as families reunited under the sky they had feared they would never see again.

The elf chief approached Kyle and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

"We will wait. Join the feast when your companion is ready. We will celebrate our bond then."

He said with a smile.

Kyle nodded, his expression softer than usual.

"We'll come. It's worth celebrating."

With that, he turned and carried Silvy to his assigned room. The space was quiet, warm, and dimly lit by glowing crystals embedded in the walls.

He laid her carefully on the bed, brushing the strands of hair from her pale face.

She hadn't stirred once.

Kyle didn't leave. He simply pulled a chair close and sat beside her, arms crossed, his eyes on her peaceful features.

Silvy had tried to sacrifice herself—not out of recklessness, but out of purpose. She had gambled her life to protect her people, knowing full well the cost. Kyle respected that.

He stayed there in silence for a long while.

Finally, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, gaze still fixed on her.

"You've done something no one else could. You saved your people when they were ready to fall. You gave them back their identity, their future. You've made one of the biggest contributions to my cause—and to theirs. I won't forget it."

He said quietly.

As if in response, the corners of Silvy's mouth lifted faintly. A fragile smile, unconscious but sincere.

Kyle blinked, surprised—but then his expression softened. Maybe she heard him. Maybe not.

Either way, he stayed.

Eventually, exhaustion caught up to him too. His head dipped forward, arms resting on the bed beside her, and he drifted off into a light sleep.

Six hours later, Silvy stirred.

Her eyelids fluttered open, heavy and slow, as the world around her swam back into focus. Her head pounded slightly and her limbs felt like they were filled with sand.

Everything ached, but not in a painful way—more like her body was reminding her that she was still alive.

She blinked again, trying to lift herself up, but her arms refused to cooperate.

"…Ugh…"

Her fingers twitched, brushing against something solid—warm.

Flesh?

She frowned, her senses still dulled. Her hand weakly explored the shape beside her before she found enough strength to pull away.

Slowly, shakily, she turned her head.

Kyle.

He was slumped beside her, one arm resting on the edge of the bed, his head bowed as he slept peacefully.

Her eyes widened.

She let out a startled yelp, suddenly very awake despite her condition. Her movement caused Kyle to stir, his eyes fluttering open as he blinked sleepily, adjusting to the light.

Kyle stirred groggily at the sound of Silvy's startled yelp, his eyelids fluttering open. He blinked at the ceiling for a few seconds before slowly turning his head toward her.

"You're loud for someone who almost sacrificed herself."

He muttered, voice dry.

Silvy blinked, still caught between embarrassment and confusion.

"You—why are you still here?!"

"I couldn't move if I wanted to. The elf tree drained me dry. I feel like a husk."

Kyle replied with a tired smirk.

Silvy leaned her head back into the pillow and let out a groan.

"Great. We're both useless. I don't even have the energy to feel bad about it."

They lay in silence for a while, the warmth of the room and the aftereffects of their actions weighing heavily on their limbs.

Kyle closed his eyes again, not to sleep, but just to rest. Silvy stared at the ceiling, arms sprawled helplessly at her sides.

About thirty minutes passed before Kyle finally shifted again, this time with a grunt of effort.

"We should get up."

He said, voice still hoarse.

Silvy turned her head toward him, eyebrow raised.

"Why? Can't we just stay here forever?"

"They're holding a feast. If we don't show up soon, they'll probably start assuming we've eloped or died."

He smirked faintly.

"And knowing the elves, I'm not sure which they'd find more upsetting."

Silvy rolled her eyes.

"Ugh. Fine. I guess we should go. I'll follow your lead."

She sighed and turned to face him fully.

Kyle pushed himself up from the chair, swaying slightly but managing to stay upright.

His hand reached toward her in a calm, silent gesture. Silvy looked at the offered hand for a second, eyes narrowing slightly.

"…Are you offering to escort me, Sir Armstrong?"

Kyle nodded, entirely deadpan.

"It's the least I could do, Lady Silvy."

She let out a long, theatrical sigh as she took his hand, allowing him to help her up.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"

Kyle gave her a look that said everything and nothing at once. The corners of his mouth twitched, but he said nothing.

Silvy narrowed her eyes.

"You are. You're teasing me again."

Still no response.

Silvy groaned.

"You are impossible."

Kyle didn't deny it. He simply helped her to her feet, steadying her when her legs wobbled. Silvy leaned into him slightly for support, and though she grumbled under her breath, her grip on his arm tightened.

"I swear, if you let go and I fall, I'm dragging you down with me."

She muttered.

"I'm sure you will."

Kyle replied smoothly.

Together, they limped toward the door, battered but unbroken, tired but alive—and just in time to attend the celebration that waited for them beyond.

As they slowly made their way down the corridor, their pace awkward and uneven, Silvy stole a sideways glance at Kyle.

"You know… you didn't have to stay with me the whole time."

She muttered.

"I know. But I wanted to."

Kyle replied simply, not looking at her.

Silvy's cheeks flushed a soft pink. She looked away.

"You're really annoying when you say things like that."

"Then I'll make sure to say them more often."

She groaned under her breath, but a small smile tugged at her lips.

Despite the soreness in her limbs and the fatigue dragging at her steps, there was a strange warmth in her chest—one that made her feel a little lighter.

As they turned the corner, the distant sounds of celebration filtered in—the rhythmic beat of drums, the laughter of children, and the clinking of glasses. It made everything feel surreal.

"You think they'll still be celebrating when we get there?"

Silvy asked.

"They better be. After everything we went through, I want at least three kinds of roasted meat and a very large drink."

Kyle said.

Silvy snorted.

"That's your priority?"

Kyle gave her a half-smile.

"You're safe. The elves are free. We planted hope. Now, I want dinner."