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

Kyle got Seloise, the elf healer, comfortably settled into a room near the village center.

The space had been cleared and prepared in advance, stocked with herbs and supplies the elf might need.

Once the healer had freshened up and rested for a few minutes, Kyle didn't waste time.

"There's someone I'd like you to examine. He's already been treated, but I want to be sure."

Kyle said.

Seloise nodded.

"Lead the way."

Kyle took him to Rin—Racheal's younger brother.

The boy, once bound to a bed and barely responsive due to severe mana burns, now sat upright, legs swinging off the edge of the bed.

His eyes were bright with energy, though a bit tired. He smiled weakly when he saw Kyle, who offered a rare, gentle smile in return.

Seloise crouched beside the boy and placed a hand gently over his chest. A faint green glow lit up his palm as he closed his eyes. After a long moment, he stood, brushing dust from his robes.

"He'll be fine."

Seloise said.

"You have nothing to worry about. He may feel weak for a few more days, but there's no lasting damage. A full recovery is likely."

The elf confirmed.

"Good. There's someone else."

Kyle said.

Without waiting for a response, he turned and led the way to another chamber deeper in the house.

Melissa sat at a table, scribbling notes, her brow furrowed in frustration. She looked up when they entered, her expression quickly smoothing out.

But even that brief glimpse had been enough—Kyle saw the strain behind her smile.

"Seloise. Can you see what you can do for her?"

Kyle said, gesturing toward her.

Melissa opened her mouth to protest, but Kyle raised a hand, silencing her gently.

The elf healer stepped forward and examined her without a word. He placed his hand over her chest, just like he had with Rin, and concentrated.

The moment his mana touched her, he let out a low hiss and recoiled.

"This is… this is not a simple affliction. It's a binding curse. Twisted, ancient. Something far older than even I."

He said darkly.

Kyle's expression didn't change.

"Can you undo it?"

"I can't. Not myself. But I know how it can be broken."

Seloise admitted.

Melissa's eyes widened slightly, hope flickering in them.

"There's an artifact. The Diamond of Break. It was once housed in the Grand Temple of Moras. That jewel can shatter any curse—divine or otherwise."

The elf said.

Kyle frowned.

"Can we get it?"

The elf shook his head slowly.

"Unlikely. Moras's temple has closed its gates recently. The priests no longer permit outsiders. And rumors say that the god himself is preparing to descend."

Bruce, who had been silent near the doorway, finally spoke.

"There's truth to that. I've heard similar things. They say Moras has chosen a vessel and is preparing to walk among mortals. That temple's tighter than a war fort now. No one gets in—or out—without clearance."

He said.

Kyle tapped his fingers on the wooden frame of the door.

"I don't care if a god is descending. Melissa's going to live."

Bruce sighed.

"I'll start investigating. I'll see if there's any passage, any smuggler, priest, or fallen acolyte who's willing to make a deal."

Kyle nodded.

"Keep it discreet. If Moras is descending, the last thing we need is to draw attention."

Bruce gave him a nod, but his expression was grim.

"I'll use every connection I've got. But you know how Okla works. With what happened to the Saintess of Clertion, they're on edge. They're hunting anyone who even smells like an intruder."

"I'm counting on you."

Kyle said quietly.

Melissa, silent this whole time, clenched her fists on her lap.

"Thank you… all of you. But don't risk everything for me. I can still hold on—"

She said.

"Enough. You don't get to decide that. I do.""

Kyle cut her off.

Melissa looked away, eyes stinging.

Seloise placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Stay strong. You are lucky to have people who would go this far for you."

He said.

Kyle's gaze darkened slightly as he turned to leave.

Kyle watched Bruce leave with a determined nod, already making calls in his head, tracing contacts and old connections that might lead them into Moras's temple.

As the door shut behind his old friend, Kyle turned to Melissa, who sat with a forced smile.

"I'm going to fix this. You'll be just fine. That's a promise."

He said quietly.

Melissa looked up at him, startled by the firmness in his tone.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Kyle had already turned away, unwilling to let her see the crack of worry threatening to show in his eyes.

He stepped outside, letting the crisp evening air wash over him. For a moment, he simply stood there, breathing deeply.

His mind drifted through dozens of calculations, pathways, potential disasters. Gods. Curses. War. He clenched his fist.

'What's the end game?'

He asked himself. Was it peace? Power? Or just survival?

Before he could chase that thought further, movement at the edge of the village square caught his eye. His gaze sharpened.

Racheal.

She looked nervous—too nervous—and she was leading a group of robed strangers through a less-patrolled path into the heart of the village.

Kyle narrowed his eyes. The robes were plain, but the way they carried themselves screamed otherwise. Clean hands. Measured steps. The faintest hum of something unnatural clung to the air around them.

His instincts screamed wrong.

Without hesitation, Kyle changed course and walked straight toward them.

Racheal stiffened the moment she noticed him approaching. Her eyes darted between the man behind her and Kyle, panic crawling up her spine.

Kyle's expression was unreadable, calm even—but Racheal had seen that look before. He wasn't calm. He was focused.

"There you are. Bit late for a walk, isn't it?"

Kyle asked followed by a simple.

"Who are your guests?"

She called out, forcing a smile as she stepped slightly ahead of the group, blocking his way.

"I—They're… they're just visitors. From… a temple I passed by. They wanted to see our village."

Kyle didn't answer. His eyes moved past her, directly to the man standing behind.

Their eyes met.

"We are humble servants of the divine, sir. We seek only to witness the beauty your people have built."

The man replied with a smile on his face.

It was subtle, but Kyle felt it instantly—the pulse of divine energy coming off the man, like a heartbeat echoing in another world.

Refined. Controlled. Dangerous.

The man's gaze was placid, even friendly, but Kyle could feel the truth underneath. This man was no lost traveler. He was a messenger, if not something more.

Kyle's hand twitched, mana readying instinctively.

But before he could act, Racheal stepped closer, voice low, nearly pleading.

"Please. It's nothing. They just want to see the village, that's all."

Kyle's eyes finally moved back to her. His face gave nothing away.

But inside, alarms were blaring.

Kyle tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable.

"Just sightseeing, huh?"

He murmured.

Racheal nodded too quickly.

"Yes. That's all."

Kyle glanced at the man once more. The stranger smiled faintly, respectful, yet his eyes never left Kyle's. A silent challenge passed between them, unnoticed by the others.

"Then I'll have Bruce assign someone to show them around properly. Can't have visitors getting lost."

Kyle said.

Racheal froze.