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

The aftermath of the mana explosion brought a breath of relief.

The wave of destruction had thinned out the monstrous horde significantly, their twisted bodies reduced to ash or scattered remnants.

The sky, which had seemed to close in under the weight of despair, lightened just a bit. The soldiers—battered, bleeding, and half-broken—found their second wind. Cheers erupted.

"We've got a chance!"

One cried.

"Push forward!"

Another shouted.

Weapons were raised again. Their feet, which moments ago dragged in exhaustion, now surged forward with renewed strength. Hope had returned.

The Grand Duchess's bold decision had bought them time—and morale.

But hope is a fragile thing.

Minutes passed. The humans fought bravely, cutting down beast after beast. But something was wrong. Melissa was the first to notice.

"Their numbers…they're… increasing again."

She said, her voice low with dread,

And she was right.

The monsters came in fresh waves—twice as many, then thrice, then more. For every one slain, two more crawled from the forest's corrupted edges.

The sky darkened again. The land beneath their feet trembled with the beat of monstrous feet.

"No… it can't be."

Someone whispered.

The soldiers faltered. The brief hope they had kindled began to flicker and fade.

At the center of the chaos, the Grand Duchess tried to rise again. Her legs shook, her breath shallow.

She planted her sword in the ground and used it to push herself up—but her body refused to obey.

Melissa rushed to her side.

"Your Grace, please! Stay down. You've already pushed too far!"

"I can't. My people… I have to protect them."

Amane rasped.

"Your mana is nearly gone! You'll die if you keep this up!"

But the Grand Duchess didn't listen. She spread her arms, drawing in the last vestiges of her magic.

Her plan was clear—another mana burst. One final explosion to wipe the monsters out.

She took a shaky step forward.

And then her knees buckled.

She collapsed to the ground with a gasp of pain, and in the next instant, the monsters pounced. From all directions they surged, their claws gleaming and jaws open wide.

Melissa leapt in front of her, blades flashing.

"I won't let you touch her!"

She fought with wild fury, her arms a blur, cutting down beast after beast. But she was only one person—and they were endless.

"Damn it… there's too many!"

She hissed, shielding the Grand Duchess with her body. Her limbs ached. Blood seeped from new wounds.

The monsters closed in.

And then—

A pulse.

A single, blinding ripple of mana swept across the battlefield like a shockwave.

The monsters froze mid-charge. A beat later, they were torn apart—shredded by invisible force, limbs flying, bodies disintegrating. Screams filled the air.

All heads turned.

A lone figure walked calmly into the chaos, his coat fluttering in the breeze, his eyes like molten gold. The mana around him was so heavy that even the bravest monsters hesitated.

Kyle.

He stepped through the remains of the shattered horde like death itself, his presence commanding silence.

The soldiers stared in disbelief.

"Kyle…!"

"Young Master!"

"He's here…!"

Kyle didn't waste time. He raised a hand, gathering mana in a swirling vortex above his palm.

"Stand back. I'll take it from here."

The soldiers instinctively moved aside, making way. For character sheets and glossaries, visit MV|LEMPYR.

Melissa fell to one knee, breathless with relief and disbelief.

"Y-Young Master…"

Kyle reached her and the Grand Duchess, crouching beside them. He placed a hand on Amane's back, sending a surge of stabilizing mana through her.

"You've done enough. Rest now."

He said softly.

The Grand Duchess, panting and pale, looked up at him with tired eyes.

"You came…"

"I told you I'd handle my part. Sorry I'm late."

Amane smiled faintly, then slumped as her body finally gave in.

Kyle rose to his full height, turning to face the battlefield. His gaze swept over the chaos—and the monsters still pouring in.

"Everyone, you've fought bravely. But now, let me end this."

He called out, his voice calm but iron-hard.

He raised both hands.

A dome of mana formed above them, glowing with divine light. The monsters screeched in protest as it began to condense, pulling energy from the very air.

Kyle's voice rang out again, colder this time.

"You've had your fun. Now it's our turn."

And with a snap of his fingers, the dome collapsed inward—obliterating the enemy forces in a single, final burst.

The battlefield shifted the moment Kyle appeared.

His calm figure, cloaked in brilliance and unshakable confidence, reignited the flame of hope in the hearts of the weary.

The soldiers, once on the verge of collapse, found themselves standing taller. Their fatigue faded, their fear replaced by determination.

"Lord Kyle is here!"

"We can do this!"

Their voices rang out across the blood-soaked terrain. The tide was turning.

The monsters, too, felt it—the weight of Kyle's presence, the overwhelming authority in his aura.

They hesitated, shuffling back as the pressure from his mana grew denser with every passing second. For the first time, they showed fear.

But monsters were monsters.

Instinct drove them forward. As if rejecting that fear, they charged again with mindless frenzy.

Kyle didn't flinch.

He drew his sword.

A flicker of mana wrapped around it—bright, wild, controlled only by his will. And then, in one sweeping arc, he swung.

A blinding flash followed. The ground split beneath the pressure. The air trembled. And an entire row of monsters—dozens strong—were cleaved apart, torn through like paper.

Blood sprayed. Bodies hit the earth.

Gasps rang out from behind.

"That was… with one strike?"

Even the monsters recoiled. Some turned away, growling low as if unsure whether to advance or flee. The momentum was broken.

Kyle didn't give them a choice.

He stepped forward.

Then faster.

Then faster still.

His sword danced like a reaper's scythe, cutting down fleeing beasts. He chased them mercilessly, not allowing a single one to escape.

His strikes were precise, each one claiming the life of a monster in a clean, efficient motion.

"Don't stop now! He's clearing the path!"

Melissa shouted.

The soldiers roared and followed, hacking through the remaining beasts with newfound strength. The tide had fully turned, and it seemed—for one glorious moment—that they were going to win.

But then the ground quaked.

The air thickened.

A roar boomed across the battlefield, so loud it forced even the bravest to halt mid-step.

Kyle stopped.

He turned.

From the northern ridge, trees snapped like twigs. The ground split open, smoke and mana pouring out. And then it appeared.

A towering behemoth.

Its body pulsed with unstable mana, muscles bulging, horns gleaming with crystal shards. Its very presence made the battlefield tremble.

But it didn't charge Kyle.

No.

It turned its wrath on everyone else.

With a sudden lunge, it hurtled into the fray—arms wide, sweeping through squads of soldiers like wheat under a scythe.

Screams echoed as it lunged. Thankfully, the mana barrier stopped it. The monster didn't care about Kyle. It cared about destruction.

Kyle's eyes narrowed. "What an annoying bug. I should squish it before it causes any more harm."

It was trying to break him—not with strength, but with cruelty.

By killing everything around him in order to make Kyle choose what to do next- save everyone or keep fighting.