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

The news of Kyle Armstrong's triumph over Moras spread like wildfire.

In every corner of the continent, from crowded markets to quiet monasteries, tongues wagged and hearts raced.

The mortals who had suffered under divine oppression cheered as if their chains had finally cracked. Those who had long followed Kyle's growth now celebrated his rise with unrestrained pride.

But for those who had built their power on the foundation of divinity, it was a devastating blow.

Within one of the empire's opulent strategy halls, lined with towering glass windows and golden sigils, the imperial council was in the midst of a routine meeting.

Crown Prince Mikalius lounged on his elevated chair, idly swirling wine in a goblet while Grand Duchess Amanda stood beside the long marble table, reviewing reports from border provinces.

The atmosphere was tense but predictable—until a guard burst through the chamber doors, face pale and breath labored.

"Your Highness! We've received urgent reports from the Holy City—Kyle Armstrong has… has defeated God Moras. He's taken control of the entire divine territory!"

The soldier exclaimed, dropping to one knee.

Silence fell. It stretched too long, too thick.

And then—Mikalius laughed.

It started as a chuckle, but quickly built into unrestrained mirth as the crown prince wiped tears from his eyes.

"Truly? He defeated Moras?"

He said between laughs.

His councilors didn't join in.

One of his retainers—a gaunt man with worry etched into his features—stepped forward.

"Your Highness, this is no laughing matter. If Kyle Armstrong has truly seized Moras's land, what's stopping him from marching toward the Imperial Throne next?"

Mikalius waved his hand lazily.

"Let him come. As long as she stands beside me, there's nothing to worry about."

He turned his gaze—sharp and gleaming—toward Amanda.

"The Grand Duchess Amanda will keep him in check."

He announced, voice ringing with absolute confidence.

All eyes turned to her.

Amanda blinked, taken aback by the sudden declaration. Her posture stiffened, but she placed a hand over her chest and nodded politely.

"Yes. That is correct. The situation is under control."

Whispers calmed. The air eased. The council settled once more.

But the moment the doors shut behind the last noble, Amanda rounded on the crown prince, eyes flashing.

"Are you out of your mind?"

She hissed, dragging him aside into a quieter corner of the hall.

"What was that about? You used me to pacify them like I was some leash for a beast!"

Mikalius just smiled, as if it were all a joke.

"I was helping you. Your standing in the court was slipping ever since the Kyle Armstrong rumors. Now, no one will dare speak against you."

He replied.

Amanda glared.

"And what if Kyle hears of this and thinks I'm trying to oppose him?"

Mikalius shrugged.

"Then you'll just explain it to him sweetly. I'm sure he'll listen."

Her hands curled into fists at her sides.

"You're using me, Mikalius."

The crown prince tilted his head.

"Maybe. But aren't we all using each other in this game?"

She opened her mouth to argue, but he beat her to it.

"Oh, one more thing. When's the wedding?"

He leaned in with a sly grin.

Amanda's face turned crimson.

"What?!"

Mikalius laughed again.

"You're always talking about strategy and duty. I figured you'd finally decide to tie yourself down before Kyle swoops in and steals the empire while you're distracted."

Amanda sputtered, unsure whether to slap him or run.

She turned away, flustered, cheeks still red.

"You're insufferable."

"I try."

Mikalius called after her.

But as the Grand Duchess stepped into the cool corridor, her smile dropped. Her expression turned serious.

Kyle had defeated a god.

That changed everything.

And whether she liked it or not… the next move would be hers to make.

Despite the red still lingering on her face, Grand Duchess Amanda took a deep breath and smoothed her dress. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was cold and composed.

"As much as I would like to get married, Your Highness, this is not the time,"

She said firmly.

"The war is here. Not in theory. Not in future. It is at our gates, and it will devour everything we have built if we are not prepared."

That finally wiped the humor from Crown Prince Mikalius's face. He leaned forward slightly, serious now.

"You're right. I may joke, but I know what's at stake."

He glanced at the documents on the table before him.

"How are the preparations?"

Amanda clasped her hands behind her back.

"My forces are ready. The independent nobles I've been working with have agreed to march under my banner. My personal vanguard is already stationed near the border. One word from me, and they'll move."

Mikalius nodded, pleased.

"Good. Very good."

His expression grew grim.

"We won't get another chance like this. Okla's been stirring for a long time. With their twin Saintesses missing and the fall of Moras's temple, they're vulnerable—but desperate."

Amanda's brow furrowed.

"Desperate men are the most dangerous. They'll try something."

"They already are. Our spies report strange movements. Ritual circles. Trade shutdowns. Their capital has been locked down for days."

Mikalius muttered.

Amanda's expression turned steely.

"Then we can't afford hesitation."

The prince gestured to her.

"Exactly. The march begins in one week. You'll be leading the western charge. Your army is the most trusted. And with the Holy City under new… mortal management…we might actually have a fighting chance."

He said with a faint grin.

Amanda offered a short bow.

"Understood."

He dismissed her with a wave, and she turned without another word, sweeping from the chamber.

The door closed behind her with a heavy thud, and Amanda found herself alone in the long hallway. Her footsteps echoed in the silence as she walked slowly, her expression unreadable.

Only when she reached the private balcony at the end of the corridor did she stop.

From there, the entire city stretched before her—rooftops bathed in golden sun, banners fluttering weakly in the wind. It looked so peaceful. So still.

And yet…

The world was shifting.

War was no longer a whisper. It was a scream.

She gripped the cold stone railing and whispered.

"It's time."

Her thoughts turned immediately to Kyle Armstrong.

She'd tried to keep her distance, to remain neutral, untangled in the growing storm that followed him.

But the time for restraint was over. Whatever feelings she had—whatever fears—could no longer hold her back.

The gods had begun their descent.

And Kyle had proven he could defy them.

She needed that power on her side. More importantly, her people needed it.

"It's now or never. We have come too far to retreat now."

The token glowed softly, pulsing once before going dim again.

Somewhere, she knew, he would hear her.

And he would come.

Far from the empire, in the now-silent ruins of Moras's sanctuary, Queen sat perched on a high ledge of the broken altar, its body flickering like a star struggling to shine. It did not speak. It did not move.

It merely watched.

Below, Kyle stood by Melissa and Bruce, both recovering from their wounds and the fading effects of divinity.

He hadn't spoken much since Moras's death. His system had been quiet—almost reverent.

But now… now something shifted.