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

The moment the sanctuary fully bloomed, the world shifted.

Everything around Kyle, Melissa, and Bruce was consumed by a stark, endless white. There was no sky.

No ground. No horizon. Just an oppressive, serene void where the very concept of movement or thought dulled.

Melissa blinked rapidly. Her thoughts slowed, her breathing slowed—and for a terrifying moment, it felt easier to do nothing than to resist. Her sword slipped slightly in her grasp.

Beside her, Bruce stumbled forward, one hand on his temple.

"What… what is this place?"

Kyle stood unmoving. His eyes were focused, alert.

"It's Moras's sanctuary. A divine plane layered over reality," he said grimly. "Here, your minds are stripped of burden. It's meant to pacify. Control."

Bruce gritted his teeth. His knees trembled under the crushing quiet, but he dug in.

"It's like I'm being erased."

"You are. That's how gods keep mortals compliant. Take away their will."

Kyle said.

Bruce swayed—until the familiar hum of the system echoed in his mind.

[Adjusting to Divine Sanctuary… Side-effects suppressed.]

He gasped as a rush of clarity surged through his body. The dizziness faded. The blankness receded.

Bruce looked up, eyes blazing.

"System says you're fine. It's helping you adjust."

Kyle smiled faintly, the expression barely visible through the pallid haze.

"Good. That will keep you conscious."

Melissa fought her way back to her feet, the fog pulling at her limbs like unseen hands. She clung to Bruce's arm.

"It's… trying to make us sleep."

"I know. We can't let it."

Bruce said.

But Kyle turned to them both, eyes steady.

"You can't resist it forever. Close your eyes."

Melissa looked up, frowning.

"Young master—"

Kyle stepped forward and placed a hand on her head.

"You've done enough. You both have. I'll handle what comes next."

Bruce clenched his jaw.

"But—"

"Close your eyes. You won't be hurt. I'll keep it that way."

Kyle said again, his voice low, unshakable.

The sanctuary pulsed again, and this time, even with the system's help, Bruce's limbs grew heavy. Melissa staggered, falling to her knees.

"I'm sorry…"

She whispered.

Kyle caught her gently, lowering her to the ground beside Bruce.

"Rest. I'll end this."

The two finally succumbed, eyes fluttering shut. The void seemed to welcome their stillness.

Kyle straightened, exhaling slowly as he rolled his shoulder. His muscles groaned, mana still pulsing violently beneath his skin. His sword hummed in his grasp.

"You're persistent. But none of you are immune to divinity."

Came Moras's voice from the center of the white.

Kyle stepped forward.

"Neither are you."

As he approached, the false serenity began to fracture. The epicenter of the sanctuary pulsed with erratic waves of power, flickering like a broken heartbeat.

Moras stood at the heart of it—its vessel now visibly cracking. The boy's frame shook violently, barely able to remain standing.

Blood seeped from his eyes, his nose, even his pores, and still, Moras held on.

But beneath the divine glow, Kyle could hear it clearly now: a child's sobbing.

"Please… stop… it hurts… I want to live…"

The vessel's true soul—buried beneath Moras's will—was crying out. A boy no older than ten, consumed by the god's overwhelming presence.

Kyle's eyes narrowed. "He's still alive."

"Not for long. A vessel that cannot contain me is a failed offering."

Moras replied, voice devoid of care.

"You're discarding him?"

Moras smiled darkly.

"His existence ends when his purpose is fulfilled."

Kyle surged forward, sword raised.

"Then I'll fulfill mine—ending you."

But before he could close the distance, the vessel's body jerked violently. A scream—part divine, part human—tore through the whiteness.

Cracks spiderwebbed across the child's body. Light spilled from within, bright and blinding. And then, in a final burst of energy, the boy's frame exploded into divine motes—dissolving like ash in a divine wind.

The sanctuary shuddered.

And Moras stepped out of the remains—freed from the mortal shell. No longer bound to flesh, it appeared as a formless humanoid shape of swirling light and shadow, unrestrained and monstrous.

Kyle lowered his sword slightly, eyes grim. Kyle stood in the remains of the shattered sanctuary, the white light warping and cracking around him. He looked toward the divine being before him—Moras, now free of mortal skin, reduced to a shifting storm of holy light and divine will.

"So that's it? You use them up and toss them aside? That child—he gave everything. His body. His mana. His soul."

Kyle asked, voice low.

Moras's voice echoed like a chorus.

"The life of an ant means nothing to a god. He served his purpose. That is all that matters."

Kyle's eyes narrowed.

"Cruelty like yours doesn't deserve reverence."

"Cruelty?"

Moras laughed, the sound jagged and metallic.

"You misunderstand. We are above you. Mortals exist to be used. To serve. To be consumed and remade as needed. Your kind were created for that purpose alone."

Kyle's hand gripped the hilt of his sword tightly.

"You gods think yourselves so superior. But all I see is a parasite with too much power and no heart."

"Heart? A useless, mortal trait."

Moras hissed.

Kyle stepped forward, mana flaring to life around him, his sword glowing with burning intensity.

"Then let me show you what a useless trait can do."

With a flash of movement, Kyle vanished.

"So that's your true power."

Moras's voice echoed without shape.

"I'm no longer constrained. Now, let's see if your will can withstand me."

Kyle gave a slow nod, lips pressed into a line.

"Then let's end it properly."

And with that, he stepped forward once more—into the collapsing sanctuary and toward the god without a shell.

Moras raised his arm to block, sure the attack would bounce harmlessly off his divine shield. But the moment Kyle's sword met Moras's barrier, it didn't stop. It pushed.

Moras's divine arm cracked. His form reeled back as Kyle broke through the shield and slashed across his limb. Light sprayed out like blood.

The god shrieked in shock.

"How…?!"

Kyle landed, not even winded, his eyes sharp.

"You've underestimated humans again."

Moras stared at him, the shimmering edges of his wounded form glitching and flickering.

"Impossible. No mortal should be able to break divine command…"

Kyle tilted his head slightly.

"And yet I did."

Silence stretched, thick and disbelieving.

Kyle walked forward slowly, sword still glowing with mana.

"I warned you once. You should have remembered me from the last time. But gods—"

He smiled faintly.

"—have poor memory when it comes to their defeats."

Recognition flickered faintly in Moras's shifting face.

"You…"

"Yes. I'm not just some wandering mortal. I've been here before. And I will stand against your kind every time you try to chain humanity down."

Kyle said softly.

Queen circled high above, watching from a safe distance. It made a sharp, soundless cry—a silent signal only Kyle could understand.

Kyle's expression didn't shift.

"Let's end this, Moras."

And with that, he dashed forward again, sword gleaming with defiant brilliance, ready to strike down the god who dared treat mortals as disposable tools.

Moras stared at the deep gash in his arm, disbelief etched into every particle of his divine form.

"You… you were one of them, the one who defied us. How are you alive?"

Kyle's eyes gleamed coldly.

"Who knows."