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

Chapter 248: Ch 248: Welcome to the Elf Village- Part 3

The elves stepped back, albeit reluctantly, when their chief made the decision.

Their murmurs filled the air like buzzing flies, but they dared not go against the elder’s authority.

As the path cleared, Kyle gave Silvy a small nod and began to follow the ancient elf deeper into the village.

Instantly, Kyle felt eyes on him.

Dozens of glares, cold and suspicious, tracked his every step.

They bore into his back, his side, his face. No one hid their hostility.

To them, he was an intruder—a stranger who dared walk the sacred soil while they suffered, cursed and drained of the very mana they once wielded so proudly.

But Kyle? He welcomed their hate.

He walked with his usual calm poise, a soft smile curling at his lips as he returned their stares. Every look of contempt only amused him.

They had no idea who they were dealing with. And that ignorance was… useful.

Silvy tried to follow, but two younger elves stepped into her path, hands raised to stop her.

“Wait. You can’t go.”

Silvy frowned.

“I’m with him.”

One of them shook his head.

“The elder chief needs to speak to him alone. You… we need to talk with you separately. In private.”

Silvy’s expression twisted.

“Why? What’s so urgent it can’t wait?”

The other elf’s voice was quieter, more serious.

“Because you left. And now you return with… him. We need to understand your intentions.”

Silvy glanced toward Kyle, who had already stepped beyond the archway into the village’s inner quarters. Her shoulders sagged with frustration, but she knew resistance would only make things worse.

She exhaled sharply and whispered in her mind, Good luck, Kyle. I’ll buy you some time.

The elves flanked her and began leading her away.

Inside the elder chief’s dwelling, the air was thick with the scent of aged wood and wilting herbs.

The structure looked as though it had once been a magnificent tree-home, carved from living roots and branches that had since gone brittle and grey.

Now, it sagged under its own weight—tired and failing, like the village itself.

The elder chief motioned for Kyle to sit on a carved stump.

“Please, forgive the state of my home. It was once vibrant, alive. But like everything else here, it’s withering. The God’s curse eats away at even the foundations.”

Kyle took a seat, posture straight, eyes unwavering.

“You said this place might collapse. Yet you still welcomed me.”

The old elf gave a weary smile.

“What good would clinging to pride do when death waits on our doorstep?”

Kyle tilted his head.

“You speak as though you were waiting for me.”

The chief turned and lowered himself onto a seat of his own.

“In a way… I was. Though I never thought I’d truly see you again before my death.”

Kyle’s gaze sharpened.

“Explain.”

The elf folded his hands together.

“I’ve lived a long time. Far longer than most of the children you saw out there throwing rocks. I’ve seen empires rise and fall. And when I was still very young—so young I could barely speak—I felt something in the fabric of the world.”

He looked at Kyle now with reverence, not fear.

“A power. Ancient, vast, unyielding. It surged across the ley lines of mana like a storm brushing the edges of creation. A presence that made the God recoil. It wasn’t elven, nor dragon, nor of the deep woods. It was something… unique.”

Kyle remained still.

The chief continued.

“The moment I saw you in the crowd today, I knew. That presence from long ago—that impossible energy—was yours. I would never mistake it. It was a force that could not be forgotten, no matter how many centuries passed.”

There was silence.

Then, Kyle asked quietly.

“How could you sense that? Most mortals don’t even notice unless I let them.”

The elder chuckled.

“You let me feel it back then. Perhaps it was intentional. Perhaps it was your mana brushing the world just once while passing through. But it burned itself into my soul.”

He leaned forward, voice lower.

“I don’t know what you are. I don’t know what you want. But I know this: if there is even the slightest chance you can break this curse, I will help you. Even if it costs me my life.”

Kyle watched him for a moment, then spoke, his tone amused yet distant.

“And here I thought elves didn’t trust outsiders.”

The elder gave a tired smile.

“They don’t. But I trust my memory. And I trust my instincts.”

He rested a hand on his chest.

“This village… this entire race… may not have many days left. But if there is to be a final gamble, I would rather place it on you than sit and wait for rot to consume us whole.”

Kyle leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing with thought.

‘Interesting.’

Kyle raised an eyebrow, then crossed one leg over the other, resting his hand on his knee.

“I think you’re mistaken. I’m not nearly as old as you seem to believe. If you’re trying to flatter me into helping, it’s unnecessary.”

He said plainly.

The elder chief chuckled, his voice light and dry like crumbling parchment.

“Age isn’t always about years, child. Some souls feel as young as spring, even after centuries. Others… feel as old as the world itself.”

He gestured to Kyle with a flick of his wrinkled fingers.

“Yours feels like that. Ancient. Heavy. Like it’s seen things no mortal should. And it still carries power—though you hide it well.”

Kyle stared at the elf for a beat, then gave a quiet sigh.

“You’re insistent, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

The chief said, his old eyes twinkling with something that almost looked like amusement.

“Let’s say you’re right. Let’s pretend I was something greater once. That doesn’t change the fact that I’m not that anymore. Whatever spark you sensed—it doesn’t burn like it used to.”

Kyle said, tone dry.

The elder leaned back slowly.

“I know.”

Kyle paused.

“You… do?”

The elder nodded.

“Your presence is quieter now. Dimmer. Not the wildfire I once glimpsed. But still warm. Still defiant against the dark. I didn’t call you in here because I expect you to save us with the flick of your hand.”

He folded his hands together in his lap, gaze thoughtful.

“I called you because I remember. I remember what you were—or what you felt like. And I wanted to pay my respects to that soul, whatever form it now takes.”

Kyle looked at the elf for a long moment. Then, strangely, he gave a small smile.

You’re more reasonable than your people.”

“I’ve outlived the luxury of pride. When rot eats at your bones, you learn what truly matters.”

The elder murmured.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft creak of aged wood shifting overhead.

Kyle eventually rose from his seat.

“I don’t know if I can help. I haven’t decided yet.”

The elder nodded solemnly.

“Even so, I’m grateful that I got to see you again. Whatever name you go by now, I’m glad you walked into my village.”

Kyle turned toward the door, pausing just before he stepped out.

“You never told me what you saw, back then.”

The elder smiled faintly.

“A storm in human skin… and the God recoiling from its path.”

Kyle’s expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes flickered. He said nothing more as he stepped outside.