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

In the dead of night, Kyle slipped silently out of his room, careful not to rouse any suspicion.

The moonlight washed over the village like a pale shroud, and the stillness in the air made his instincts prickle with unease.

Something about Baron Nora's hospitality didn't sit right with him. She had been too accommodating, too prepared—as if she'd known everything well in advance.

And while her aura had shown no signs of divine interference, Kyle had learned long ago not to trust first impressions.

Moving along the village's narrow stone paths, Kyle kept his mana suppressed to avoid detection.

As he rounded a quiet corner near the barracks where his soldiers were resting, he caught sight of something that made him pause.

A cloaked figure—female, agile and quick—slipped silently out of one of the rooms. Her hands were full of pouches that jingled faintly with coins and trinkets.

Kyle narrowed his eyes.

Without giving her a chance to flee, he snapped his fingers, and invisible tendrils of mana wrapped tightly around her form.

The woman gasped and struggled, but Kyle increased the pressure, immobilizing her as she was dragged toward him by the sheer force of his will.

"Planning to vanish before sunrise, are you?"

Kyle asked, his voice low and cold.

The woman didn't answer immediately. Her face twisted in defiance, but her body couldn't move under the weight of Kyle's aura. He stepped closer, his eyes fixed on hers.

"What are you doing here? And be honest. I'm not in the mood for riddles."

He asked again, sharper this time.

Still pinned down, the woman tried to force a smile, but it came out more like a grimace.

"I'm just doing what I'm supposed to," she said through gritted teeth. "If the lord can't look after his people, then it's up to us to look after ourselves."

Kyle's expression darkened.

"So you're robbing soldiers who are about to go to war. Noble of you."

"They don't belong here! You come with your army, with your banners and your arrogance. You expect us to sit quiet while you eat our food and trample our homes?"

She snapped back.

Kyle stared at her, unmoved.

"You mean the food your Baron offered willingly? The homes no one has stepped into uninvited?"

The woman looked away, lips pressed tight.

Kyle leaned down until his face was inches from hers.

"Listen closely. I'm not a patient man. If you don't tell me who put you up to this—why you're stealing, and for whom—I will make you speak the old-fashioned way. And believe me, you don't want that."

The air thickened with mana.

The thief's eyes widened slightly, her bravado faltering.

"Is it the Baron? Did she set this up?"

Kyle asked, voice still calm but laced with menace.

The woman trembled in Kyle's grasp, her body held firm by the crushing weight of his mana. Her breath came in sharp gasps, but her eyes burned with desperation.

"Please, you don't understand. I need the food for a sacrifice… for my son."

She finally choked out.

Kyle raised an eyebrow.

"A sacrifice?"

She nodded frantically.

"He's sick—very sick. The temple priest told us if we bring an offering of food and coin, they'll cure him. They promised they would make things better for all of us. But… but the Baron—she won't let the temple stay. She says it's dangerous. The people protest every day. But she won't listen. She's leaving us with nothing."

Kyle's eyes narrowed.

"So, your answer was to steal from soldiers going to war? To rob those who are risking their lives for your future?"

"I had no choice!"

She snapped, a mix of shame and anger in her voice.

"You think any of us want to do this? We have no power. No magic. No coin. The temple gives us hope—hope that someone will listen. That someone will help. You nobles… you always have everything! It's easy for you to mock the gods when you've never begged for crumbs."

Kyle didn't flinch at her words, but his eyes turned colder.

"I've seen what those temples bring. They twist the desperation of people like you into tools for their gods. They don't help—they consume. And when there's nothing left, they move on."

He said quietly, dangerously.

"You can say that because you've never had to watch your child waste away in front of you!"

She spat.

"I've watched people die. I've watched children starve, cities fall, and the heavens laugh while they burned. The gods didn't help them then, and they won't help you now."

Kyle replied.

The woman's body trembled harder, but whether from fear or rage, Kyle couldn't tell.

"They gave me hope. That's more than the Baron or any of you ever did."

She whispered.

Kyle sighed, letting his mana ease just enough for her to breathe properly, though she remained restrained.

"You're being used. They prey on people who have nothing left to lose. But they will never give. They only take."

He said, his voice low.

Her eyes shimmered with angry tears.

"Even if that's true… I have no other option."

"You always have options. "Even if they're painful. Trusting a false god won't save your son. It'll only bind him to something worse."

Kyle replied.

She bit her lip and turned her head away.

"Easy for you to say, General. You don't live in dirt."

"No. I don't. Not anymore. But I've clawed my way out of it, and I never needed a god's help to do it."

Kyle agreed.

The woman suddenly lunged, reaching into her cloak. With a yell, she threw a handful of dirt and ash toward Kyle's face, hoping to blind him and make a run for it.

But Kyle didn't move.

The moment the particles left her hand, his mana pulsed outward like a net, freezing them mid-air. The dirt never reached him. Instead, it dropped to the ground, lifeless and harmless.

The thief tried to dash away, but her feet left the earth for only a second before they were bound in invisible chains and pulled harshly to the ground. She gasped as she hit the dirt, pinned like prey.

"I warned you. But you're so consumed by your faith that you've stopped thinking."

Kyle said, walking toward her calmly.

She groaned under the weight of his power, no longer struggling, just breathing heavily.

"You're lucky I'm not one of the gods you worship. Because if I were, you'd already be ashes."

He said coldly.

He waved his hand, and two of his soldiers, masked and cloaked, appeared at the edge of the alleyway. They quickly moved forward to secure the woman, binding her with enchanted ropes.

"Take her to one of the holding rooms. We'll question her again tomorrow. And get a healer to check her son's condition. If the child is truly sick, then we'll deal with it our way. Not the temple's."

Kyle ordered.

The woman stared at him in disbelief.

"Why… why would you help?"

Kyle looked down at her, eyes unreadable.

"Because I'm not the villain you think I am. And I won't let the gods use another desperate soul as their puppet."

Without another word, he turned and walked back into the night, his cloak swirling behind him.

The village lay still, moonlight silvering its rooftops. But Kyle knew the peace wouldn't last. The gods had planted their roots here already—and he was going to rip them out.

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