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

Kyle chuckled softly as he leaned against the wooden pillar of the elder's humble home, eyes drifting over the cracked floorboards and worn furniture.

"You speak as though I'm some long-lost god. But let me be clear—while I may not be what I once was, I do have enough strength left to break the divine curse strangling your people."

He said with amusement.

The elder looked up, hope flickering across his aged features, but Kyle raised a hand before he could speak.

"Don't misunderstand. I don't make promises lightly. But… I didn't come all this way to turn my back on the rot choking this place."

"I understand. Even the faintest flame is precious in the darkness."

The elf elder said quietly.

"But, I think you're wrong about what you saw when you were younger. Whatever you glimpsed—it might've been something else entirely. I'm not from here. I was born into this world, yes… but I have memories. Memories of another place. Another existence entirely."

Kyle continued, narrowing his gaze.

The elder's eyes widened in surprise, mouth parting slightly as if to speak, but no words came.

Kyle's voice dropped, more solemn.

"This world… feels foreign to me. It smells, tastes, and breathes differently than the one I remember. I've been sure of that ever since I was old enough to understand what 'normal' meant. So, whatever you saw in your youth, I'm almost certain it wasn't me. Not then, anyway."

Silence hung heavy in the room as the elder slowly sank deeper into his seat, hands trembling slightly as they folded in his lap. For a long moment, he stared into the air, lost in thought.

"Perhaps…perhaps I was mistaken. Or perhaps fate played one final cruel joke on an old man. Maybe what I saw was never meant to be real. A hallucination brought on by sickness. Or maybe…"

He looked up at Kyle with hollow eyes,

"Maybe fate gave me a glimpse of something forbidden—just to prepare me for this moment."

The elder finally murmured.

His voice turned softer, almost wistful.

"Even if it was all fake, all a lie… what else do I have left to believe in? My people are dying. My magic is all but gone. And yet… here you are. Whether you are the soul I saw or not, you've come at the very end."

Kyle watched the old elf for a moment before sighing.

"Then believe in that. Not in what you saw, but in what you see now. You don't need a phantom from the past. You just need someone who's willing to do what needs to be done."

The elder nodded, a tired smile creasing his face.

"Then allow me one selfish request, young flame. Let me see my people break free… before my final day comes."

Kyle turned away, hands tucked in his coat pockets.

"You will. Rest while you still can, old one. I'll carry the burden from here."

A soft knock came at the door, and a young elf entered, clearly tense but composed. He looked between the elder and Kyle before bowing respectfully.

"Chief, you summoned me?"

"Yes. Show our guest to one of the unclaimed rooms. Let him rest for the night."

The elder said gently.

The young elf turned to Kyle, hesitant.

"If you'll follow me, outsider…"

Kyle smirked.

"Lead the way."

As he stepped toward the door, the elder's voice called out one last time.

"Young Master"

He paused, glancing back.

"Thank you."

The elder said simply, his voice nearly breaking.

Kyle gave a single nod.

"Save it for when I actually fix something."

Then he stepped out into the twilight, following the younger elf through the fading village paths, the rot still lingering thick in the air like a silent, suffocating fog.

Behind him, the old chief sat alone in his chair, eyes closed, praying—perhaps for the first time in years—not to a god, but to fate itself… that maybe, just maybe, it had not been too cruel after all.

The young elf led Kyle through the dimly lit pathways of the decaying village, her posture rigid and her silence pointed.

Her footsteps were light, almost graceful, but Kyle noticed the tension in her shoulders and the sideways glances she kept shooting at him.

When they arrived at the small wooden house tucked behind a withering tree, she didn't bother hiding the distrust in her eyes.

"This will be your room. Don't cause trouble."

She said curtly, pushing open the creaky door.

Kyle only smiled, his expression calm and unreadable. That same polite, measured smile that had disarmed far deadlier people than her.

It clearly unsettled her.

The young elf's fingers twitched at her side, but she said nothing more, turning on her heel and walking away with her back straight. Kyle stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

The room was small and simple, with a single bed, a desk, and a cracked window that let in a faint breeze tainted by the rot in the air.

Still, it was better than sleeping under the trees with the cursed mist trying to burrow into his skin.

He stretched out on the bed, hands behind his head, letting the silence settle around him. His mana gently pulsed, subtly forming a thin layer of protection around the room. Just in case.

An hour passed.

Then the door burst open with a loud creak, and a familiar voice groaned.

"Uuugh… I am so done with today."

Silvy stumbled into the room and immediately threw herself onto the bed—only to freeze halfway as she realized someone was already lying there.

Her face turned crimson.

"K-Kyle?!"

Kyle raised an eyebrow without getting up, amused by how her exhausted scowl twisted into mortified panic.

"Nice to see you too."

Silvy scrambled backward, sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed, flustered.

"W-why are you here?!"

"I was shown to this room. I assume the elves didn't think it necessary to assign us separate ones."

Kyle replied with a shrug, clearly unbothered.

"You look like you've been wrung out."

Silvy groaned again, rubbing her temples.

"You have no idea… They questioned me like I was a traitor or something. Accused me of bringing a second curse into the village. They didn't even give me water."

Her voice cracked at the end.

Kyle didn't reply at first. He sat up slightly, leaning against the headboard.

"They're scared. That much is obvious. People grasp at whatever explanation they can when they're desperate. But that doesn't make it right."

Silvy huffed and flopped backward onto the bed again, a safe distance from Kyle.

"They're treating me like dirt. Like I abandoned them… even though I was the only one who managed to escape and bring help."

She blinked slowly, exhaustion catching up to her.

"And now I'm sharing a room with you too. Today just keeps getting better."

Kyle chuckled quietly, resting his head against the wall.

"Try not to die of embarrassment before we save your village."

Silvy covered her red face with a pillow and muttered something incomprehensible.

But she didn't move away.

Kyle glanced at her, then back at the ceiling.

"Rest. Tomorrow, things will change."

Silvy peeked out from under the pillow, her voice muffled.

"You better keep that promise."

"I always do."

He replied.

Though neither said it aloud, a strange sense of calm settled between them—an unspoken truce amidst the chaos.