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

In the dim light of the tent, the humanoid doll sat slumped in the corner, its porcelain-like face cracked and lifeless.

Though it didn't move, didn't breathe, something about it made the hair on the back of Kyle's neck stand up.

It was as if all the strings that had animated it just hours ago had been sliced away, leaving an eerie stillness in its wake. But even without motion, the thing watched. Or… waited.

Kyle's sharp eyes narrowed. The divine mana that had once cloaked the puppet was fading fast, evaporating into the surrounding air like steam, revealing a strange, almost pulsing undercurrent of energy beneath it.

Not divine. Not human. Something… other.

"Melissa. Bruce. Do you feel it too?"

Kyle said without looking away.

Bruce, leaning against the tent pole, crossed his arms and frowned.

"Yeah. It's… not like anything I've felt before."

Melissa, who had instinctively stepped a few paces away from the doll when they returned, nodded, arms tightly folded.

"It's not divine, but it's not natural either. It's like it's been stitched together from pieces that shouldn't go together. I don't like it."

Kyle hummed under his breath, his curiosity piqued.

"It's hiding something. I want to take a closer look—"

Before he could finish, a servant burst through the flap of the tent, panting.

"Young Master Kyle! The Grand Duchess is requesting your presence immediately. There's been a sudden change in plans, and she needs your help."

Kyle gave the doll one last look before nodding.

"Understood. Keep an eye on things here. Don't touch the puppet yet, but make sure it doesn't disappear."

He turned to Bruce and Melissa.

Melissa gave him a quick salute, already shifting her stance to be more alert.

"Got it."

Bruce gave a lazy nod, though his eyes were sharp.

"We'll handle it."

The audience room in the temporary command pavilion was quieter than expected. When Kyle entered, he found only two people waiting for him: the Grand Duchess Amana and Crown Prince Mikalius.

The air was tense, as if whatever news they had to share was heavier than either of them had the strength to carry alone.

"Kyle. Thank you for coming so quickly."

Amana said as she stood, her expression serious.

Kyle glanced between her and the crown prince.

"What's going on?"

Mikalius exhaled slowly, arms crossed behind his back.

"It's… complicated."

"The priests. From Charrin's temple. Many of them have now officially renounced their allegiance to the goddess and have asked to serve under your command."

Amana said.

Kyle raised a brow but didn't speak.

"They saw what you did. They watched a mortal defeat a god. For them, it wasn't just a battlefield victory—it was a spiritual revolution. A few even claim you're a divine vessel now."

Mikalius added.

Kyle grimaced.

"I'm not."

"We know that. But perception is reality, and they've tied their hopes to you."

Amana said quickly.

Kyle's jaw clenched.

"And the rest of Okla?"

Mikalius's cheerful tone darkened.

"They think we're spreading blasphemy. Propaganda. The high command in the capital has refused to acknowledge Charrin's death, and now there's word that they're preparing for war."

"So we won the battle. but lost the narrative."

Kyle said coldly,

"Exactly. They believe we're lying. That we faked Charrin's fall and that the divine is still backing their cause."

Amana said, sitting down again.

Mikalius gave Kyle a tired look.

"And worse… some believe the gods will punish us for what we've done."

Kyle closed his eyes for a moment, thinking.

"Then we don't have much time. If Okla launches a full assault believing they have divine support, they'll commit everything. And more people will die needlessly."

Amana nodded grimly.

"That's why I called you. We need to strategize. You're not just a warrior now, Kyle—you've become a symbol. If we want to stop this war before it escalates, you may have to be the one to stand at the front."

"I didn't ask for that."

Kyle muttered.

"No, but symbols don't get to choose what they represent. The people already chose for you."

Mikalius agreed,

Kyle looked toward the closed tent flap, where the echoes of a new war were already taking shape in the distance.

"Then I'll do what needs to be done. But we'll need more than troops. We'll need evidence. Proof that Charrin is dead and that the divine no longer supports Okla."

He said at last.

Amana looked thoughtful.

"You said the puppet had divine energy. If we trace it, could we use it to uncover the truth?"

Kyle nodded slowly.

"Maybe. If we can prove where it came from—and who sent it—it might be enough."

Mikalius's eyes lit up with determination.

"Then we'll start there. It's time to end this for good."

Kyle turned to leave, his mind already racing through the next steps.

Behind him, Amana called softly.

"Be careful."

Kyle didn't turn back.

"Always."

The Grand Duchess watched Kyle with a strangely unreadable gaze before finally speaking,

"You should stay in the royal palace tonight."

Kyle arched a brow.

"Any particular reason?"

She smiled, a little amused but still serious.

"You're going to be a part of the royal family soon, Kyle. It's time others started seeing your status properly. And that starts with staying where royalty stays."

Kyle let out a quiet sigh but didn't argue.

"Very well. I'll stay."

Servants promptly led him through the stone halls of the palace and showed him to a lavish room with tall windows and heavy curtains, the bed dressed in gold-threaded sheets.

Once he was alone, Kyle shut the door behind him and snapped his fingers. Instantly, with a flutter of wings and a sharp gust of wind, Queen—the hawk—descended from the rafters and landed silently on the windowsill.

Its piercing eyes locked onto Kyle.

Kyle walked to it and extended his arm. Queen hopped onto it obediently.

"It's been some time. I've missed you, Queen. Tell me—how are things back at the village?"

Kyle murmured.

The hawk tilted its head and let out a low, almost mechanical caw. It's message was clear as a day.

The village is fine. The dragon remains in the mountain's shadow. No external threats have come close. The defenses remain in place.

Kyle nodded, visibly relieved.

"Good. I was worried after all this chaos."

Queen ruffled its feathers, preening a little, basking in Kyle's presence and attention.

Kyle reached up and gently brushed the feathers on its head.

"Thank you. You've done well, Queen."

The hawk chirped in bliss before settling down.

Kyle carried it to a high perch within the room and gestured for it to rest.

"Stay here for now. We'll likely need to move again soon."

The hawk tucked in its wings, eyes half-lidded.

Satisfied, Kyle finally laid down. His body sank into the bed's comfort, exhaustion finally catching up to him. The pillow was soft, the silence deep.

But the moment his eyes closed, a strange sensation crept in. His chest grew heavy, and the edges of his mind blurred. It was as if invisible threads had wrapped around his thoughts and were now pulling him somewhere far—far—away.

His body remained in the palace.

But his consciousness?

It was no longer his own.