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

The morning sun had long since risen as the trio made their way through the dense, quiet forest paths toward the outer fringes of God Moras's territory.

Kyle led the group with confident but wary steps, his senses alert for even the slightest shift in the mana around them.

Queen flew just overhead, circling lazily but never straying far. The air felt heavy with pressure the closer they drew to the border, like the land itself wanted to repel them.

As they trudged along, Kyle suddenly felt a strange, rhythmic thump from within his travel pack. He froze, narrowing his eyes, and slowly set the bag down.

Bruce and Melissa exchanged curious glances as Kyle unfastened the flap. A soft snort echoed from inside, followed by a puff of smoke.

Kyle's brow twitched.

From the folds of clothing and supplies, a familiar silver-scaled snout peeked out, followed by a pair of glittering golden eyes.

"…Lysander."

Kyle muttered, dragging the small dragon out of his bag by the nape.

The little dragon let out a dramatic chirp, flailed its limbs in slow, guilty motions, and tilted its head cutely to the side, feigning ignorance.

Kyle stared at the young dragon, completely unamused.

"You're not supposed to be here."

Bruce chuckled.

"Aw, come on, young master. Look at that face. You can't be mad at it."

"I can and I am. It chewed through this just to hide in my bag. Besides, it is too dangerous for it to come with us this time. I need to find a way to send it back home."

Kyle said flatly, holding up his torn traveling cloak.

Melissa giggled softly.

"Can we keep him with us? He's already here, and he's not a baby anymore. He might actually help."

She looked to be in a better mood right now.

"No. This isn't a trip to pick flowers. This is enemy territory, and he's not trained for this."

Kyle said with finality.

Lysander let out a distressed growl and immediately clung tighter to Kyle's robes with all four claws. Its tail wrapped tightly around Kyle's arm as it whined, refusing to let go.

"Queen. Get him out of here."

Kyle sighed, glancing upward.

Queen swooped down silently, wings catching the sunlight like stained glass.

It stopped in front of Lysander and gently extended one claw, wrapping it around the small dragon's middle. Queen's pull was soft but insistent.

But Lysander responded by screeching and digging in deeper. The death grip it had on Kyle's clothes began to tear the fabric. Kyle winced as another sleeve shredded from the strain.

"…Stop, Queen. This isn't working."

Kyle finally muttered, massaging the bridge of his nose.

Queen hovered for a moment, then slowly released the baby dragon and backed off with a huff, landing quietly on a nearby tree branch.

"Looks like we're a party of four now."

Bruce said with a teasing grin.

Kyle shot him a glare.

"You're patching my clothes tonight."

Bruce mock-saluted.

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

Despite himself, Kyle let out a quiet exhale. As frustrating as it was, Lysander's presence at least added a strange sort of warmth to their dangerous journey.

It wasn't long after that they reached the outskirts of the kingdom. The trees here grew twisted and gnarled, as if shaped by an unnatural force.

The grass was dry, the soil hard beneath their feet, and the air shimmered faintly with unseen energy.

Even Queen didn't dare go far from Kyle's side now.

As they stepped onto the final ridge before the territory border, a frail voice called out.

"Stop where you are."

The trio halted, weapons nearly drawn, until they saw the source.

An old man sat on a lone stone just before the edge of a strange shimmering barrier that stretched across the trees like a dome.

He looked like a forgotten hermit, draped in brown robes, with a weathered staff resting beside him. His eyes were cloudy with age, but they burned with clarity and warning.

"I don't know who you are, but if you value your lives, turn back now. That barrier there, it isn't just for show. It's a divine ward. Anyone who tries to cross without the proper rite will be killed instantly."

He pointed a crooked finger at the shimmering veil of mana.

Kyle narrowed his eyes, stepping forward.

"And how would someone pass safely?"

The old man gave a sad chuckle.

"You don't. Not unless Moras wants you to. And trust me, it doesn't want anyone inside unless it's to feed its hunger."

Bruce stepped forward instinctively, placing a protective hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Young master, allow me to talk to him. He looks harmless, but you never know—"

Kyle raised a hand calmly. "It's alright, Bruce. I want to hear this from him myself."

With quiet authority, Kyle stepped down from the carriage. The wind tugged at his torn robes, still bearing the marks of Lysander's desperate grip. Queen watched silently from a high perch, unmoving but alert.

Kyle walked up to the old man, his tone steady. "How long has this barrier been up?"

The old man squinted, studying Kyle's face, then his clothes, and finally the carriage they had arrived in.

His eyes lingered on Lysander before drifting back to Kyle. After a moment's pause, he nodded slowly.

"It's been up for several days. Right after word began spreading that God Moras had chosen a vessel. The barrier went up as a... 'precaution,' they say. Most believe it's to prevent outside interference until the selection is complete."

The old man finally replied.

Kyle frowned.

"So it's true... they've already chosen someone?"

The old man's expression twitched—grief flickering across his face.

"That's what they say. Some poor child, they say. Too young to even understand what's happening. The villagers around here... they whisper that the chosen one's being prepared inside the sanctuary even now."

Kyle's hands curled into fists, hidden beneath his cloak.

"Of course they'd use a child."

Bruce tensed at those words, but said nothing. Lysander hissed softly from the carriage roof, sensing Kyle's emotions. Queen remained silent, but its wings rustled faintly.

The old man sighed and shifted his weight on the stone.

"You folks seem... different. Not from around here, I'd wager. If I may ask—what business do you have with God Moras?"

Kyle didn't answer immediately. After a moment, he simply said.

"We're here to take someone back."

The old man stared at him, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. But he didn't push.

Instead, his voice softened.

"The sanctuary will open again. On the day of the vessel's official appointment. That's the only time outsiders are allowed in without divine permission."

He gestured behind him toward a small, quiet village nestled in the trees.

"You'd be safer staying there until then. The forests near the barrier are dangerous, and the priests watch everything."

Kyle looked toward the village. It wasn't part of the map. That in itself was telling.

After a long pause, he nodded slowly.

"We'll stay."

The old man gave a grim smile.

"Then come. You can rest at my place for the night. But stay sharp. In this land... even silence can be deadly."