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

In the heavens above, far from mortal reach, the God of Justice staggered backward, clutching his chest.

A searing, unnatural pain pulsed through his divine core. His breathing—once steady and serene—now came in ragged bursts. He looked down at his trembling hand.

Black blood oozed from his palm, dark and viscous, staining his radiant flesh with creeping corruption.

"No…"

He whispered.

The last of his shards—destroyed. He felt every rupture as though Kyle's sword had pierced him directly.

His body, once a bastion of divine order, now trembled under a weight that shouldn't have touched a god.

He stumbled against the marble wall of his sanctum, golden light flickering around him like a dying flame.

He opened his palm again and saw the blackness growing—spreading from beneath his skin like veins of rot.

"Impossible… this should not be happening."

"Kyle Armstrong. You've pushed me to this point…"

He snarled under his breath.

His voice cracked. Divine rage mixed with fear—a rare and terrible thing for a god to feel.

Then came a breeze—gentle, swirling—and a figure stepped into the sanctum.

Tall, lean, robed in soft, whispering silks—the God of Winds.

He arrived without fanfare, his presence barely disturbing the air, but his eyes held quiet wisdom as he studied the scene before him.

"Justice? I sensed instability in your realm. I came to ask if—"

He said cautiously.

He froze.

The God of Justice was hunched over, his aura fragmented, dark patches of corruption snaking across his once-immaculate form. The Winds' eyes widened.

"What happened to you?"

"Stay back! Don't come closer!"

The God of Justice snapped, his voice suddenly feral.

But the God of Winds ignored the warning and took a step forward.

"You're injured. You're… you're tainted. Is that corruption?"

"I said stay back!"

Justice barked, staggering upright, golden light clashing against the dark lines crawling across his skin.

"Don't you understand?! If the others see me like this…"

The God of Winds narrowed his eyes.

"Should I call the Supreme God? This might be—"

"No!"

The panic in Justice's voice was raw and immediate.

"If they find out…I'm already dead. You know what they do to those touched by corruption."

He said, trembling.

The Wind God hesitated.

"Then what are you going to do? Hide this? You're breaking down, Justice. You need help—"

And in that moment of closeness, the God of Justice reached out and touched the God of Winds.

Darkness pulsed from his fingers—thin tendrils of corruption sliding into the Wind God's arm. The contact lasted only a second, but it was enough.

The God of Winds recoiled violently, staring at his forearm where a thin streak of black had etched itself across his skin.

"You—! What have you done?!"

He gasped.

Justice's gaze was hollow now, bitter.

"We share the same fate now."

The Wind God stared in disbelief, panic rising in his voice.

"You infected me."

"There's no point in resisting. You've already felt it, haven't you? The sickness. The weakening."

Justice said coldly.

The Wind God looked down at his hand again. He could feel it—a slow, insidious drain on his essence, like a seed planted beneath his skin.

"You… you've damned me."

He whispered.

"No. I saved myself. And now you'll help me hide it."

Said Justice.

The God of Winds backed away, eyes wide with horror.

"You could've asked. I would've helped—"

"No. You would've reported me. You would've obeyed the order of heaven. Now… you no longer have that option."

Justice said again.

Silence fell between them, thick and oppressive.

The Wind God clenched his fists.

"I should destroy you here and now."

"You can try. But that would only draw attention. And you'll have to explain why you're corrupted too."

Justice said, voice low.

The words hung like a curse in the air.

The Wind God looked down, breath shaking. The corruption wasn't spreading fast—not yet—but it was there. And with it came the inescapable reality: he was compromised.

His reputation. His authority. His very existence.

Tainted.

And by divine law, that meant death.

"You'll help me cover this up. Because now you have no choice. You'll ensure the other gods remain unaware. You'll keep watch over the mortal world, stall the Supreme One if needed, and suppress rumors of the shards."

Justice continued.

The Wind God didn't respond. This is pаrt оf а sеriеs frоm Мy Virtuаl Librаry Еmpirе (М|V|L1ЕМРYR).

His silence was answer enough.

But as he turned away, there was a look of quiet hatred in his eyes.

The God of Justice, hunched and trembling behind him, saw it. And for a moment, the briefest flicker of doubt passed across his face.

But he crushed it.

He had no time for guilt.

Not now.

Not when Kyle Armstrong was still alive.

And still coming.

The air between them was thick with unspoken tension. The God of Winds stood still, his gaze fixed on the corruption slowly threading through his arm. Finally, he broke the silence.

"…What do you need from me?"

The God of Justice exhaled, slow and deliberate. His posture was no longer proud—just tired, desperate, yet calculating.

"All my shards… have been destroyed. Every last one Kyle shattered was a tether anchoring me to the mortal realm. But even after that, I do not have the authority—nor the strength—to descend fully."

He said through clenched teeth.

The God of Winds narrowed his eyes.

"So you want my power."

"I need just enough. A fragment of divine wind—your presence—fused with my own will allow me to descend. No one will suspect. They will sense your power and assume you have descended."

Justice said.

The Wind God's jaw tensed.

"And if I say no?"

"Then everything we've done here—everything I forced upon you—will be for nothing. You're already infected. Already bound to me. You cannot afford to sever that tie unless you want the others to find out."

The God of Winds turned his back for a long moment, staring at the sky beyond the sanctum walls.

"You're dragging me deeper into this."

"I dragged us both the moment I reached out. But if you help me now… there's still a chance to control the narrative. To stop Kyle before he reaches them."

Justice admitted.

Still silent, the Wind God raised his hand. The breeze around him stilled, and a stream of pale blue light drifted from his fingers into the waiting hand of the God of Justice.

But before he let go, the Wind God spoke.

"One condition."

Justice looked up, surprised.

"You will vow this on your divinity. No one—no one—can know what happened here. And if the truth escapes, even a whisper…"

The Wind God said.

He stepped forward, his voice like steel behind a breeze.

"Then the power I give you will consume you from the inside out. You will die by your own hand, by the pact we forge right now."

The God of Justice hesitated—but only for a moment.

"I swear it. By my name, by my power, and by the law I once upheld."

He said.

With those words, the pact sealed.

Divine energy pulsed once between them—a silent bond forged in secrecy.

Neither of them noticed the flicker of shadow at the edge of the sanctum. A presence neither wind nor justice had sensed in their moment of weakness.

Someone had been listening.