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

Within the cold heart of Moras's temple, silence reigned like a crown.

The sacred chamber was soaked in divine residue—walls carved with spirals of madness, red light spilling from hanging chains, and a thick circle of silver drawn across the floor with ground bones and blood.

At its center lay a boy, no older than ten, breathing shallowly.

His small chest rose and fell, and his eyelids fluttered—caught in a dream he could not escape.

The high priest stood before him, face hidden behind a ceremonial mask made of polished bone. His hands trembled as he lifted a blood-soaked dagger, chanting words that twisted the very air around them.

Every syllable called to something older than the stars, something deeper than the abyss.

"I offer this body, chosen by the stars. Let your will descend. Let your essence flood this vessel. Let Moras rise."

The dagger flashed and plunged—not into flesh—but into the sigil at the boy's feet.

A burst of divine light swallowed the chamber.

The ground trembled.

The air grew heavy.

And then—stillness.

The boy's fingers twitched.

A heartbeat later, his eyes opened.

They were not the boy's eyes anymore.

Golden-red, swirling like molten wax, burning with divinity and disdain.

The priest dropped to one knee, choking on reverence and terror.

"My lord… is it truly you?"

The boy turned his gaze to him, slow and deliberate. His lips curled into something ancient and cruel.

"Kneel properly, insect."

The voice was not human. It was layered—like countless voices speaking in perfect unison through a single mouth.

The priest bowed deeper, forehead pressed against the blood-slicked floor.

"My Lord… it is you. My god. My life. My end."

The god in the boy's body hummed, amused.

"Mm. You have served well, old thing. Your offerings, your patience… it has brought me back."

The priest's voice quivered.

"I exist only to serve. My soul belongs to you."

Moras turned his gaze to the temple ceiling, eyes glowing faintly.

"It seems we have visitors.""

It murmured.

The priest stiffened.

"Visitors?"

"A few pesky little insects. Wriggling through my land. Curious minds. Defiant hearts. I can feel them stirring my domain like they own it."

Moras said.

The high priest surged to his feet.

"Say no more, my lord! I shall deal with them. They dare to walk here with breath in their lungs—I'll strip it from them before you must lift a finger."

Moras smiled—soft, amused.

"Will you now?"

"I swear it. I will purge them in your name."

The priest said, voice rising with fervor.

The god's small vessel tilted its head.

"Then do as you will, high priest. Entertain me."

The priest bowed again, pressing a trembling hand to his chest. "At once."

But even as he left the chamber, racing to gather the temple's enforcers, Moras remained behind—its smile fading into a quiet frown.

The boy's fingers clenched.

The vessel was still resisting.

Moras closed its eyes.

Inside this fragile human shell, it could feel the original soul like a caged animal—snarling, clawing, desperate to reclaim its body.

It made Moras chuckle.

"I suppose it wouldn't be fun if it were too easy. We'll have to fix that."

It mused, raising the boy's hand and watching the skin twitch.

It sank deeper into the vessel's mind, whispering words only a god could shape—words that slithered through thoughts and rewrote memories.

"Tame. Forget. Obey."

The resistance flared.

The boy's soul screamed.

But Moras's will pressed down like a storm.

Outside, the temple bells began to toll, one by one.

The priest's soldiers were mobilizing. The purging would begin soon.

And the god?

It would be watching.

Not from above—but from within.

Because this was its world.

______

The streets of Moras's town were still as ever—eerily still. Kyle, Melissa, and Bruce walked in step, careful not to look too curious, their expressions dulled to mirror the dazed locals.

But as they moved closer toward the looming black spires of the temple, Kyle suddenly paused.

His brows furrowed, and his gaze sharpened like a blade drawn halfway from its scabbard.

Bruce noticed.

"Young master?"

"…The divine energy just shifted. It's heavier now. Denser. Like something's pushing down on the entire town."

Kyle murmured, glancing toward the temple.

Melissa stiffened.

"Something happened in the temple?"

Kyle gave a slight nod.

"Something significant. Either a high-level ritual was performed… or someone descended."

Bruce's expression turned grim.

"Then what do we do now?"

Kyle looked ahead, eyes narrowing.

"We stop playing pretend."

He turned on his heel and began walking toward the temple without another word. Melissa and Bruce followed him without question.

As they neared the towering temple gates, the oppressive weight in the air only grew stronger. Kyle could feel the god's attention turning, shifting.

A probing awareness scraped across the town like fingers searching in the dark.

Moras knew something was amiss.

Kyle extended his hand upward. A soft flutter of feathers responded instantly—Queen returned, circling once overhead before settling on his shoulder with a quiet chirp.

He whispere.

"You felt it too, didn't you?"

The bird blinked, then tilted its head.

"Good. Then you know what I'm going to ask."

Melissa raised a brow.

"We're not charging in, are we?"

"No. We're creating a distraction."

Kyle said, voice low.

He reached up and gently stroked Queen's head.

"The real target is at the center of the temple. Something important is there—likely a conduit, a relic, or perhaps even the vessel. We need it. Queen's the only one who can slip in unnoticed."

Bruce frowned.

"With all due respect, young master… Queen can't even fight. If something happens, it won't survive."

Kyle's lips curled into a faint smile.

"It doesn't need to fight. It just needs to fly. And as long as I breathe, it will live."

Bruce didn't argue further, but he exchanged a brief glance with Melissa. That smile Kyle wore—it meant he'd already decided to crush anything that got in the bird's way.

They reached the massive double doors of the temple. Towering, blackened, and lined with divine sigils that glowed faint red. Several robed priests and armored temple guards stood before it.

One of the priests stepped forward, voice smooth and polite.

"The temple is closed for visitation. Divine rituals are underway, and none may pass beyond this point."

Kyle didn't even stop walking.

"I don't care."

The priests blinked, startled.

"You—"

In a blur, Kyle moved.

Before any of them could raise their weapons or call for help, he was among them—hands striking with precision, magic flaring in soft blue sparks.

The guards collapsed like puppets with cut strings, each one silenced with a blow to a pressure point or a surge of suppressing mana.

Bruce whistled under his breath as he moved in beside Kyle, blade drawn.

"Well, so much for subtlety."

Melissa stepped over a crumpled priest, wiping her blade clean.

"We were never here to play nice."

Kyle turned toward the temple doors.

"Queen."

The bird gave a sharp, acknowledging chirp before launching skyward. Its feathers shimmered as it turned invisible mid-flight, diving through a narrow crack between the temple's high windows.

Kyle's eyes tracked its movement briefly, then refocused on the sealed gate. He placed his palm on the surface. Divine sigils pulsed beneath his touch—wards meant to repel the unworthy.

He poured his own mana into the symbols.

They flickered. Dimmed.

And broke.

The doors groaned open, just enough for the three of them to slip inside.

Darkness greeted them. Not absence of light, but living, breathing shadows that slithered across the floor. The air was even heavier here, thick with the scent of incense and blood.

Bruce raised his sword.

"Whatever's inside… it's waiting."

Kyle walked ahead, completely calm.

"Then we won't keep it waiting long."

In the skies above, Queen soared through the rafters of the temple, unnoticed by all.

It followed Kyle's silent command—gliding toward the central sanctum, where the vessel of a god waited, and where destiny prepared to unfold.