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

Just as she began to consider the terrifying possibility, her friend waved a dismissive hand.

"Relax. You're just caught up in his energy. Happens sometimes. If a person's internal energy is strong enough, especially if it's strange or ancient, it can leave an impression on someone sensitive to mana. You were exposed to it during the evaluation. That's probably all it is."

The priestess hesitated.

"You really think so?"

Her friend nodded.

"It's just like residual aura. You'll feel back to normal after some rest. Trust me."

But as she parted ways with her friend and headed to her assigned quarters at the temple, the priestess couldn't shake the lingering feeling that this wasn't just residual energy.

It was him.

That night, she knelt before the shrine of her goddess, her hands pressed together tightly in prayer.

The golden incense burned in curling spirals beside her, and the sacred bells chimed softly with the breeze.

"Oh Goddess of Light, most merciful and wise, grant me guidance. I fear I've been touched by something I do not understand. My heart is restless. My body trembles with longing. This is not right. I swore to you—I swore never to stray from your light."

She whispered.

She closed her eyes tightly, hoping for a sign, for peace, for any hint of her goddess's voice.

But what came instead… was a dream.

A deep, vivid dream.

She found herself in a great empty temple, silent and dim. No idols. No scripture. Only shadows and a warm wind that circled her, whispering in a voice that didn't belong to the divine.

And at the far end, seated on a cracked marble throne—was him.

Kyle Armstrong.

Not dressed in noble robes, but in something ancient—black and gold, lined with patterns that didn't belong to this world.

His presence radiated raw power and unknowable wisdom. His gaze pierced through her, calm and commanding.

He raised a hand, beckoning her closer.

"Come."

The wind carried his word like a holy chant.

"You must serve. You were never meant to bow to heaven. You were meant to follow me."

Those words echoed around the room.

The priestess's body moved before her mind could resist. Her steps echoed in the temple, each one heavier than the last. But instead of fear, she felt… serenity.

Belonging.

She reached out, hand trembling as she got closer to him.

And then she woke.

Gasping, breathless, soaked in sweat. Her sheets were tangled around her limbs, her heart hammering like a drum.

She stared up at the ceiling, the final word from the dream echoing in her skull.

"Serve…"

She clasped her chest, feeling the heat still smoldering inside her.

"I'm… I'm not supposed to feel like this."

She whispered.

She slid out of bed and collapsed to her knees before the small goddess statue beside her bed.

"I've sinned. I saw only his face… when I should have seen yours."

She bowed her head low, forehead to the floor, but even as she chanted silent prayers to her goddess, she couldn't summon the guilt.

No tears came. No shame.

Only that same strange pull.

That desire to go to him. To understand what he was. To see more of that dangerous, forbidden power beneath his skin.

And somewhere, deep down, the priestess knew—

Her life was no longer hers alone.

______

Kyle returned to his chambers with a calm, almost amused expression, as though the entire divine examination had been little more than a passing annoyance.

Bruce and Melissa stood waiting for him just outside the heavy doors, and the second they saw him, Bruce straightened while Melissa tilted her head curiously.

"Young master, how did it go?"

Bruce said, his voice cautious.

"Everything is fine," Kyle replied easily, brushing a bit of dust from his shoulder.

"The priestess has returned to the temple. She found no issue with me."

Melissa's gaze sharpened.

"A priestess?"

She asked, the word slipping out before she could stop herself.

Kyle gave her a glance, catching the faint flicker of tension in her expression.

"Yes. A rather pious one. She did her job thoroughly."

He confirmed.

Melissa tensed for a second longer, then quickly schooled her features into something more neutral.

"I see. That's good."

Without another word, they followed Kyle back to his room.

Once inside, Kyle moved to the wide chaise near the window and sat down, gently cradling Queen in his lap. The hawk showed a happy expression before settling down.

Bruce stood to the side, studying Kyle's expression. There was no frustration, no anxiety. In fact, Kyle looked... thoughtful.

"Young master?"

Bruce ventured.

Kyle didn't immediately answer.

Despite the events of the day—the probing, the divine presence, the suffocating energy inside that room—he wasn't disturbed.

If anything, he found the experience interesting.

Now he knew exactly how strong the divine senses of these priestesses were, and just how much he could get away with.

The performance had been well worth it.

"How curious. I wonder what will happen next."

Kyle murmured to himself.

Melissa raised an eyebrow.

"What is?"

Kyle smiled faintly.

"That priestess… she couldn't even sense a fraction of my true mana. It makes me wonder just how blind heaven truly is."

Melissa blinked, unsure of how to respond, while Bruce gave a small cough and decided to remain wisely silent.

Kyle reclined further into his seat, resting his head against the back cushion.

'This could be useful. '

His lips curled into a faint smile.

"Let them wonder about curses, possession, or some unknown power. The more unsure they are, the more careful they'll be—and the more room I'll have to move freely."

He said softly.

______

Meanwhile, in another part of the estate, the atmosphere was considerably less calm.

Christan paced restlessly in front of a closed set of ornate doors, his boots scuffing the floor with every irritated turn.

Emelia sat nearby, arms folded and jaw tight, her eyes darting toward him with every step he took.

"This is your fault. You said the priestess would cooperate. You said she was bought."

Christan hissed under his breath.

"She was bought! I paid her a hefty sum. But something happened—someone switched her out. How was I supposed to know a different priestess would show up?"

Emelia snapped, her voice low but furious.

"You should have double-checked. You should have verified her arrival. We looked like fools in front of Father!"

Emelia narrowed her eyes.

"Oh please. And what exactly did you do? Stand there and look smug while Kyle walked out untouched? If you're so concerned, maybe you should've taken more initiative!"

"I trusted you!"

Christan growled.

"Well, maybe that was your first mistake."

She shot back, fire flashing in her eyes.

Before their voices could rise any further, the massive doors in front of them opened with a low creak. A steward bowed lightly and stepped aside.

"Duke Armstrong will see you now."

Christan and Emelia shared one last glare before squaring their shoulders and stepping inside the duke's study.

The room was heavy with the scent of old books and colder with tension.

Behind a wide mahogany desk sat Duke Armstrong, his expression unreadable, his fingers laced together on the surface in front of him.