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

As the carriage rolled through the countryside, Bruce sat across from Kyle with a frown on his face.

The wind rustled through the curtains and birds chirped beyond the window, but Bruce's attention was focused entirely on his young master.

"You left so suddenly, young master. Was that really wise? What if the Marquess takes it the wrong way or stirs up trouble?"

Bruce said.

Kyle, lounging with his arms crossed, gave a small shake of his head.

"If he stirs up trouble, he'll be fighting his own shadows. What happened in that estate was for him to discover, not for us to punish. We simply set the stage."

Bruce's frown deepened.

"Still, are you sure he won't lash out in desperation?"

"He already did. "When he groveled before me during our first meeting, that was the peak of his panic. Now that he's tasted humiliation and truth in equal measure, he'll either crumble completely… or rebuild himself."

Kyle replied.

Bruce nodded slowly, then sighed.

"I still don't like the idea of leaving it all behind."

"We didn't leave it behind. We gave him a choice. That's more than most people get."

Kyle said with a small smile.

As the carriage wheels bumped along the path toward their village, Bruce finally leaned back in his seat, the tension leaving his shoulders.

"Then what do we do now, young master?"

Kyle looked out the window, eyes distant and calculating.

"Now? We go home. And prepare. This was just the edge of the web. The true game has yet to begin."

And somewhere, in the halls of his estate, Marquess Terrance stood alone—less a puppet now, and more a man sharpening his blade.

______

As the wooden path stretched ahead, narrower and more shadowed than the one they had taken earlier, Kyle's brows furrowed.

The canopy above let in only slivers of sunlight, and the quiet hum of birds had gone silent.

"This path…It wasn't here before."

Kyle murmured, glancing out of the carriage window.

Bruce leaned slightly forward.

"New route?"

"No. A trap."

Kyle said.

His words were curt, final. His senses were prickling—an almost instinctual warning honed over countless brushes with death. Something was wrong.

"Stop the carriage. Now."

Kyle ordered, opening the small hatch above to speak to the driver.

But the driver didn't respond.

The horses kept moving, their hooves clacking against the rough wooden planks of the narrow road. The path was too convenient. Too empty.

"Bruce! Get ready."

Kyle said, his tone shifting to one of steel.

Without waiting, Kyle shoved open the window and pulled himself up through it. With a surge of mana coiled around his legs, he kicked off from the carriage frame and soared forward, landing neatly beside the driver.

The man turned with a start, eyes wide with fear.

"M-My lord?!"

He stammered.

Kyle's expression was calm, but his eyes glinted dangerously.

"Pull the reins. Stop the carriage. Now."

The driver hesitated. The horses began to spook, sensing their rider's panic. One jerked sideways, nearly tipping the entire carriage.

Kyle moved swiftly, a hand raised to steady the horses with a thin burst of calming mana while anchoring the wheel with his other.

The vehicle settled again, but Kyle never broke his stare from the panicked man beside him.

The driver's hands trembled as he yanked the reins, bringing the horses to a shaky halt. The carriage creaked to a standstill amidst the woods.

"Forgive me!"

The driver blurted, already sliding down from his seat and attempting to bolt.

But before he could flee, Bruce appeared from behind the carriage, blade unsheathed and eyes sharp. He blocked the driver's path without a word.

The man skidded to a halt and fell to his knees, gasping.

"I-It wasn't my fault! I didn't want to do this!"

Kyle landed beside Bruce and folded his arms.

"Start explaining."

The driver's face crumpled.

"They… they said they'd kill me! Said they'd hurt my family if I didn't drive you into the forest and leave you there! I wasn't going to let anything happen to you, I swear! I was going to stop soon and let you walk back!"

Bruce's expression hardened.

"So instead, you brought your master into an ambush like a coward. And now you beg?"

"I had no choice! Please, I'm just a driver!"

The driver cried.

Kyle remained silent for a moment, then noticed the man's fingers twitching near his coat.

His eyes narrowed.

"Bruce."

Bruce saw it at once too.

The driver suddenly whipped a small silver whistle from his sleeve and blew it with all his strength.

The sharp, eerie note pierced through the forest. The sound carried far, echoing between trees.

Kyle's expression darkened.

"So that's the signal."

A rustling began almost instantly in the woods around them. Leaves shivered unnaturally. Shadows moved. They weren't alone.

Kyle stepped forward and pulled the whistle from the driver's hand with a casual motion, crushing it in his palm.

"You could have begged. You could have confessed. But instead, you made your choice."

The driver collapsed onto the ground, his face pale with despair.

Bruce looked up at the thickening shadows.

"They're closing in."

Kyle turned toward the forest, the glint of steel already visible between the trees. Several figures emerged from the foliage—masked, armored in mismatched gear, blades at the ready. Bandits. No, worse.

Assassins.

But Kyle didn't look surprised. If anything, he looked slightly annoyed.

"I was hoping I'd have more time to rest after that mess at the Marquess's estate," he muttered.

Bruce grinned.

"Looks like someone disagrees."

Kyle raised a hand, mana crackling faintly at his fingertips.

"Then we'll have to disagree back—loudly."

Kyle didn't waste time. The driver tried to make a run for it once more, but Kyle and Bruce were faster than him.

"Bruce—grab him. Don't let him out of your sight."

"On it."

Bruce lunged and tackled the driver to the ground, restraining him quickly and efficiently. The man squirmed and struggled, but Bruce was unmovable.

Meanwhile, Kyle's eyes locked onto the archers hidden in the trees. He could sense more of them, forming a ring around the carriage.

Their mana was sharp, aggressive. Assassins trained to kill mages.

Big mistake.

Kyle raised his sword, letting his mana surge through his body and into the blade. A humming vibration filled the air as the weapon began to glow.

With a single motion, he swung.

A brilliant arc of condensed mana energy erupted from the swing, cutting through the forest like a scythe through wheat. Trees were cleaved.

Screams echoed as the front line of attackers were torn apart, vanishing under the weight of the mana slash.

The survivors stumbled back, gasping for air as their bodies buckled under the oppressive pressure Kyle now exuded.

A few tried to lift their bows again, but their arms wouldn't move. Their knees buckled. The sheer force of his presence was crushing.

Back near the carriage, Bruce looked down at the now-pale driver. The man had stopped smiling. He looked at the devastation, his mouth slightly agape.

"Still feeling good about your choices?"

Bruce asked, tightening his grip.

The driver gulped and shook his head rapidly.

"I-It was just an act! I was always on your side!"

He blurted, desperation in his voice.

"You saw how I hesitated! I didn't want to do this!"

Kyle turned back, brushing his sword off with a flick as he approached.

"Go on. Keep talking."