Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent-Chapter 330: Ch : In the Ruins- Part 2

Kyle tells his people to join the Grand Duchess’s people for now and to support them as much as they can. His voice is calm, steady—but it leaves no room for argument.

Before Bruce or Melissa can ask if they can accompany him, Kyle shakes his head.

"No. You go with the soldiers. Take command."

He says firmly.

Melissa hesitates.

"But—"

Kyle turns to Bruce.

"Separate our forces. Integrate them into the Grand Duchess’s platoons. Strengthen their defense. We can’t afford to slack off—not even for a moment."

Bruce stiffens, but he nods.

"Understood."

Kyle’s expression softens only slightly.

"Keep the morale high. Make sure no one panics."

Melissa bites her lip but says nothing more. She gives a reluctant nod.

Turning his attention to the Grand Duchess’s second-in-command, Kyle addresses him directly.

"Where was she last seen?"

Varron wastes no time.

"She went northeast—chasing the divine general’s mana signature. She said she’d stop the healing at the source."

Kyle’s eyes narrowed.

"Show me."

Varron leads him swiftly across the field—past overturned siege weapons, fallen soldiers, and broken sigils smeared in blood. The stench of charred earth and divine residue hangs in the air like a curse.

When they reach the edge of the battlefield, Kyle stops. His eyes scan the distance. He feels it immediately—the clash of mana, one thick with divine influence, and another unmistakably familiar.

The Grand Duchess’s.

"I’ll take it from here."

He says.

Then, without another word, he dashes into the war-torn landscape, feet pounding over scorched soil, aura flaring in pulse with his rising focus. Every instinct screams that he must hurry.

Meanwhile, deeper into the battlefield, the Grand Duchess charges forward through collapsing terrain. Her cape is torn, blood stains her side, but her eyes are locked on a single point of light.

The divine aura leads her through ruin and flame.

And then—she sees her.

In the heart of the clearing, surrounded by enemy corpses slowly being mended by holy light, stands a woman draped in radiant white armor, a golden staff in hand.

The healing aura flows from her like a slow tide, touching the wounded soldiers around her, closing their injuries, returning them to the frontlines.

The Grand Duchess doesn’t hesitate.

"Runa!"

She calls out.

The divine general turns at the sound of her name. Her face, pristine and untouched by war, curls into a knowing smile.

"Well, well. The Duchess herself. I wondered when you’d come to die."

General Runa says, voice smooth and lilting.

The Grand Duchess raises her blade.

"You won’t heal another one of them."

"Oh, but I will. You think charging in here will change anything? Your resistance is nothing. Your faithless king is crumbling. The gods will take this land back."

Runa replies with a gentle laugh.

"No gods will be taking anything. I’ve come to end your life."

The Grand Duchess snarls.

General Runa’s laughter dies down, her expression cooling.

"Then come. Try."

She says softly, lowering her staff and pulling a shining blade from her side.

And the clearing trembles as the duel begins.

The Grand Duchess stood in the clearing, her sword gripped tightly in her hand, its blade stained with blood and ash.

General Runa watched her with serene eyes, untouched by the chaos around them.

Something was wrong.

A deep unease crawled up the Grand Duchess’s spine. Her instincts, sharpened by years of battle, screamed at her that this was no ordinary fight.

But she had no choice. Gritting her teeth, she surged forward, sword gleaming under the weight of her aura.

Her strike was clean—too clean. The blade slid across Runa’s shoulder and chest, cutting through armor and flesh as though it were paper.

The divine general staggered, blood pouring out for a brief second.

But then—nothing.

In the blink of an eye, the wound sealed itself. Muscle, skin, and bone reformed as if the blade had never touched her. Even the blood vanished into golden light.

The Grand Duchess’s breath caught in her throat.

"What...?"

Runa tilted her head, a smug smile playing on her lips.

"Surprised? You shouldn’t be."

She raised her arms slowly, as if showing off her unmarred body.

"This body—this life—belongs to my god. Every cell, every drop of blood, is His blessing. I will outlive all of you. When the world has forgotten your names, I will still walk its ruins and spread His gospel."

The Grand Duchess didn’t respond. Her hand tightened around her hilt, even as doubt gnawed at her resolve.

Runa took a step forward, divine energy humming around her like a second skin.

"I will burn your history, erase your legacy, and make sure only His truth survives."

As the general spoke, the Grand Duchess shifted her stance. Her sword stayed low, hidden in the folds of her battle-worn cloak. But she was listening—to the wind, to the mana around her.

And then she felt it.

A pressure so immense it warped the very air—a signature she could never mistake. Kyle.

The Grand Duchess did not turn, but the tension in her shoulders eased slightly.

He was coming.

Relief washed over her like a tide. He was close, and if anyone could turn the tide of a hopeless battle, it was Kyle Armstrong.

Now all she had to do was stall.

Her lips curved into a smile, sharp and mocking.

"Tell me, Runa. Doesn’t it humiliate you? Bowing your head to a god like a dog? Living and dying at their whim?"

She said, voice dripping with disdain.

Runa flinched—barely, but it was there.

The Grand Duchess pressed on.

"You have strength, power... and yet you crawl like a beggar. Where is your pride?" ƒгeewёbnovel.com

For a moment, Runa’s serene mask cracked. Her lips tightened. But then, with a chilling laugh, she tilted her head back and let out a sound that echoed through the battlefield.

"You really think that’s a weakness? I was born for my god. I live for His will. And I will die singing His name if that is what it takes."

She said, eyes gleaming.

She pointed her sword at the Grand Duchess, divine mana burning like wildfire around her.

"It is not humiliation—it is purpose. Something you people lost a long time ago."

The Grand Duchess didn’t respond.

She didn’t need to.

Kyle was nearly here.

General Runa lunged forward, divine aura flaring as her blade arced toward the Grand Duchess.

The world blurred in her movement—fast, fluid, filled with righteous fury. But before the strike could land, a sharp gasp escaped her lips.

She froze mid-motion.

A searing pain radiated from her abdomen.

Her hands trembled as she looked down—blood spilled freely from a blade that had pierced clean through her stomach, the metal gleaming with mana. Her breath hitched. Slowly, she turned her head over her shoulder.

Kyle stood behind her, eyes calm, expression unreadable.

"W–What...?"

Runa choked out, her strength faltering.

Kyle didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

His hand twisted the blade ever so slightly, and Runa’s legs gave out.

She collapsed to her knees, clutching her stomach in disbelief, divine energy flickering and fading from her form like a dying ember.

The battlefield went quiet for a heartbeat.

Kyle looked past her to the Grand Duchess, who met his gaze silently, the tension in her shoulders finally easing. Runa’s breath came in ragged gasps now, her aura dimming.

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