Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent-Chapter 327: Ch : The Seed of War- Part 1

Baron Nora stood with her retainers just beyond the village gates, her hands folded before her and a gentle smile painted on her lips.

"Thank you for staying with us, Lord Kyle. If there’s anything you need in the future, anything at all, you can always ask me. My doors will remain open."

She said, her voice formal and respectful.

Kyle, standing beside his mounted horse, nodded coolly.

"I’ll remember that."

As she spoke, more and more villagers emerged from their homes. Men, women, and even children lined the streets to see Kyle and his forces off.

But there was no gratitude in their eyes. No reverence or admiration. What glared at Kyle was raw resentment—bitterness etched into every face.

The atmosphere turned oppressive, the air thick with silent accusations.

Their gazes followed Kyle like daggers, some so sharp he could feel them pressing against his skin.

It wasn’t grief for the destroyed temple. It was hatred—for their exposed illusions, for the crumbling of their false hope.

Kyle’s sharp eyes took in every face. He said nothing at first, but as he turned back to Baron Nora, his voice cut through the silence.

"You need to pay more attention to your territory, Baron. Letting bugs crawl in through the cracks... if left alone, they’ll infect everything."

Baron Nora flinched, a nervous chuckle slipping out.

"Y-yes, of course, Lord Kyle. I didn’t expect it to spread so far, but I’ll be more vigilant. I’ll personally ensure my people are tended to from now on. I... I won’t let something like this fester again."

Kyle didn’t respond immediately. His eyes lingered on her, hard and unreadable.

She was trying, he could see that. But whether it was genuine guilt or the fear of his wrath that pushed her to make promises—he couldn’t tell. And frankly, it didn’t matter.

"That’s your problem now."

Kyle said flatly.

Behind him, Bruce glanced at the tense crowd and the frazzled baron before stepping closer to Kyle. He lowered his voice so only his young master could hear.

"Are we really just going to leave her like this? Those people... they look ready to tear her apart."

Kyle didn’t even glance back at the crowd.

"We don’t have a choice. If we delay here any longer, we risk falling behind. The war won’t wait, Bruce."

He replied.

"But— She helped us. Gave us food and shelter. If something happens to her..."

Bruce frowned.

"Then that’s the price of poor governance. This place was already rotting. The temple’s influence was only a symptom. She closed her eyes to her people’s suffering until it almost burned her home to the ground."

Kyle said.

Bruce clenched his jaw but nodded slowly. Kyle wasn’t wrong. As much as it pained him, the mission came first.

And Baron Nora had been given a chance—what she did with it was up to her now.

Melissa and Rudra joined them, both already prepared to move out.

Kyle looked once more toward the resentful villagers, catching the eye of a woman in the crowd who had clutched her ailing son to her chest the night before.

Her glare was the harshest of all. She held her son tighter, as though she feared Kyle would take even more from her.

He didn’t look away. Instead, he spoke loud enough for the villagers to hear.

"You can hate me all you want. It’s better than dying blind."

The words echoed in the silence. No one replied.

Kyle mounted his horse.

"Let’s move."

The group began to leave, the pounding of hooves marking their departure. The people remained, silent and hateful, watching them go.

As the road carried them away from the village, Bruce turned to Kyle again.

"Do you think they’ll come around? Understand what you did for them?"

Kyle exhaled.

"No. And that’s fine. They don’t need to understand. They just need to survive."

Rudra looked over his shoulder at the fading village and said quietly.

"Faith... it chains more than just the hands. It blinds the eyes."

"Then we’ll tear the veil down, one lie at a time."

Kyle replied.

______

Baron Nora watched the dust clouds rise from the path Kyle and his group had taken, the echoes of their departure still hanging in the air.

The heavy silence of the villagers behind her did little to ease her tension. Their stares bore into her back, but she kept her spine straight and her chin high.

Once the figures disappeared over the horizon, she finally turned to face her retainers.

"It’s time. I’ve been lenient long enough. This village has festered, rotted under my inaction. But no more."

She said, her voice colder than usual.

Her retainers exchanged glances, unsure of her sudden resolve.

Baron Nora continued, her eyes sweeping over the streets and villagers gathered nearby.

"We are to begin the cleanup. Root out the leeches, the thieves, the zealots—every last one of them. This is still my land, and I’ll see it reclaimed from this madness."

Her tone was commanding, but her hands trembled ever so slightly as she gripped her skirts. She had let things spiral too far, she knew that now.

Her cowardice had cost her control. But Kyle’s words still echoed in her head. Bugs infecting everything. She couldn’t afford to look away again.

"I want this place cleaned up before sundown. Start with the temple’s sympathizers. I want them gone. All of them."

She told her retainers.

The retainers gave faint nods, but none of them moved. Nora didn’t notice. She turned away from the crowd and began to make her way toward her mansion.

Her steps were brisk, her breaths shallow. She kept her focus ahead, trying to ignore the murmurs and tension that still hung behind her.

But she didn’t get far.

A sudden rush of movement behind her—a blur of footsteps on stone.

Then pain.

Sharp. Blinding. Searing pain exploded in her abdomen, and she let out a soft, choked gasp. Her eyes widened in confusion as her feet gave out from under her.

She collapsed to the ground, her palms hitting the cobblestone as blood pooled beneath her. Her trembling fingers reached for the wound, and she stared down at the dark red staining her gown.

"What...?"

The words barely escaped her lips as the world began to tilt.

Above her, a man stood. Young, disheveled, and wide-eyed with the kind of madness that came from desperation.

He looked down at her, breathing heavily, his bloodied dagger still trembling in his grip.

"I... I did it..."

He whispered, then louder.

"I DID IT!"

He threw his head back and laughed—a wild, unhinged sound.

"She’s gone! The tormentor is dead! We’re finally free!"

Baron Nora’s lips moved, but no sound came. Her eyes locked with his, not in rage or fear, but bewilderment. She tried to lift her hand, to call for help—but no one came.

Her retainers stood nearby.

Still.

Silent.

Watching.

One of them, an older man who had served her for over a decade, finally stepped forward. But not to help. He merely looked at her, eyes distant.

"She never listened. Let them starve, she said. Let them suffer."

He murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

The others said nothing.

Baron Nora’s vision blurred as the life began to drain from her. The pain numbed. The voices around her dimmed.

And as she lay dying on the cold ground of her village, the last thing she saw were the blank, uncaring faces of those who had once sworn loyalty to her.

Her mouth parted, perhaps to speak a name, perhaps to beg. But no sound emerged.

She died in silence, surrounded by people who had once called her their ruler.

No tears were shed.

No hand reached out.

No one stopped the killer, who now dropped to his knees and wept, as if unsure whether he had done something glorious or monstrous.

Above them, the sun continued its steady rise.

And Baron Nora’s mansion doors remained closed.

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