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

Silvy hesitated, then nodded with curiosity and followed Ricca through the halls of the mansion, past towering bookshelves and paintings of previous lords.

Eventually, they entered a quiet library. Ricca gently handed her a thick, ornate book and motioned to a nearby chair.

"Start with this one. It covers the fundamentals of noble relationships and courtship customs."

Silvy nodded, cracking open the book with wide eyes.

For the next hour, silence hung in the library—punctuated only by the flipping of pages and, occasionally, Silvy's horrified expressions.

Her ears twitched. Her eyes narrowed. Her face turned red, then pale, then red again.

Finally, with a dramatic slam, Silvy shut the book and stood up, her expression blank and vaguely traumatized.

"Nope, nope nope nope."

She muttered.

She stormed out of the library without another word, her steps purposeful, clearly on a mission to find Kyle—and maybe, just maybe, make him answer for what she'd just read.

______

The butler who came to fetch Kyle was a slender, older man dressed immaculately in black and silver livery.

His posture was straight, almost military, and his expression polite but distant—eyes half-lidded in that trained noble servant way.

'The butler looks well-educated and professional. But still, it is nothing out of the ordinary so far. I don't think the butler is the culprit behind Margrave Ricca's incident.'

Kyle gave a nod and followed him without protest as they departed from the drawing room, where Ricca had left Kyle while she continued "educating" Silvy in the mansion's library.

The mansion was spacious, more so than Kyle had expected for a borderland noble estate.The floors gleamed, the furniture was well-maintained, and not a speck of dust could be seen on any surface.

'I don't see anything weird or suspicious about the mansion either. Looks like the foreign mana is coming from somewhere else'

As they walked, the butler spoke little but gave short, clipped explanations about each room they passed.

"The reception hall… the second drawing room… the study of the late lord… the conservatory…"

Kyle half-listened, letting his eyes take in every detail—the layout, the subtle presence of warding runes in the corners, the servants they passed who bowed respectfully before disappearing just as quickly.

The place was too quiet for a mansion of this size.

It felt like a shell.

But what truly drew his attention was the butler himself.

There was something strange about the man.

He didn't falter or show any cracks in his formal behavior, but Kyle's senses picked up a sharpness in the air around him—an aura that felt all too familiar.

A presence not unlike the one Ricca had when she attacked him the night she snuck into his room.

Curious, Kyle sent a small probe of mana toward the butler, just enough to test the reaction.

The response was instant.

The butler's hand flew to his chest, and he stumbled slightly, gasping.

"A-Ah… forgive me, young master. This old heart of mine is not what it used to be."

Kyle was by his side immediately, putting a steadying hand on the man's back and catching his elbow to support him.

"Are you all right?"

"I… I am, thank you. No need to concern yourself. My health has always been rather fragile."

The man gave a strained smile, but his hand remained on his chest.

Kyle didn't reply right away. He used the contact to send another, more subtle pulse through the butler's body—and what he felt confirmed his suspicion.

The butler's natural mana, though weak from age and wear, was being overpowered by another.

A darker, colder foreign energy had taken root inside the man, wrapping around his core like a parasite.

It was the same signature. The same kind of mana that had been inside Ricca during the attack.

Yet, the butler didn't seem to know.

Kyle gently pulled back his hand.

"Has it always been like this? Your condition, I mean?"

The butler gave a soft chuckle.

"Ah, no. It's only been the past few years. Before that, I was as fit as a man half my age, or so I liked to think. But these days, my strength comes and goes as it pleases."

Kyle's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Do you remember if anything unusual happened around the time it started?"

The old man furrowed his brows, genuinely trying to recall.

"Unusual… well, quite a lot changed, I suppose. The lady inherited the title. The staff increased—new maids, guards, traders coming in and out of the village more often than before. The village's businesses grew. It was… busy. A time of growth."

"Anyone new arrive around then? Any unfamiliar faces?"

"I'm afraid I wouldn't remember most of them. Too many, too fast. My memory's not what it used to be, young master."

The butler smiled again, this time tinged with embarrassment.

Kyle considered pressing further, but the butler suddenly straightened up and looked toward the hallway.

"Ah. It is almost time for dinner. Her Ladyship will be expecting us. Shall we head back?"

Kyle glanced at the man. The foreign mana in his body was entrenched, steady.

Too long had it been there—likely beyond the point of safe removal without causing permanent damage.

Even if Kyle tried to force it out, the old man's body wouldn't survive the shock.

He needed more information before doing anything rash.

"…Yes, Let's go."

Kyle finally said, adjusting his pace to match the butler's.

As they walked back, Kyle kept his thoughts to himself.

The timing of the butler's illness, the surge in the village's development, and the strange behaviors Ricca had exhibited—it was all connected.

And now, there was no doubt in Kyle's mind that someone had been planting foreign mana into key individuals across the region. For what reason, he didn't yet know.

Kyle was led into the dining room by the same butler, who moved with all the grace of a trained noble servant despite the foreign energy swirling deep in his core.

As the heavy doors opened with a creak, Kyle's eyes were immediately drawn to the two women waiting inside.

Margrave Ricca Barren sat with her chin resting on her hand, a mischievous glint in her eyes, the very picture of confidence.

Across from her sat Silvy, who looked decidedly less composed. She sat stiffly, hands folded tightly in her lap, cheeks still faintly red, and her entire being radiating discomfort.

Her ears twitched when Kyle entered, but she didn't lift her gaze to meet his.

Their eyes met for a moment—hers wide with something between guilt and embarrassment—before she quickly looked away.

Kyle frowned subtly, his instincts immediately on alert.

Something was off. Silvy looked like she'd been shaken, but there was no sign of visible injury.

Still, the stiffness in her shoulders and her unwillingness to meet his gaze told him enough.

He was about to ask, but his instincts—always sharp—warned him against it. So, he kept silent and took his seat.

Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—Margrave Ricca was more than happy to fill the silence

"Poor Silvy got quite the shock today. She was introduced to some 'courtship' books from our private library. A comprehensive education."

She said with a little laugh, swirling her wineglass lazily.