Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent-Chapter 372: Ch : Do You Remember Me? - Part 2

The golden light of dawn filtered through the towering windows of the palace halls as Kyle opened his eyes with a sharp breath.

The divine realm crumbled behind him like shattered glass, and his soul snapped back into his body with a jolt. He sat up, rubbing the bridge of his nose as his senses flared outward.

The heavy blanket of divine energy that had smothered the palace for days... was gone.

Kyle stood slowly, letting the remnants of that suffocating pressure fade from his skin. He stretched his senses wider, sweeping through the halls and chambers of the palace.

People were stirring. Groggy, confused, but alive.

The sleep curse was broken.

His eyes sharpened.

"Finally."

Without waiting, Kyle headed toward the lower levels of the palace. The echo of his footsteps rang through the quiet corridors as he walked with long, purposeful strides.

He passed by chambers with slowly opening doors—maids helping nobles who had been asleep for days, guards returning to their posts, and ministers blinking in confusion as they woke up where they had collapsed.

But Kyle’s goal was clear.

He reached Bruce’s room first and pushed the door open. The sight of Bruce—sitting up on the edge of his bed, wiping sweat from his brow—made Kyle pause.

Bruce looked up at him immediately.

"Y-Young Lord."

Kyle stepped inside.

"You’re awake."

Bruce bowed his head deeply.

"Forgive me. I fell into that cursed slumber without even realizing it. Such a basic divine trick, and I—" 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

"It’s fine. No one can face a god and expect to escape without consequence."

Kyle interrupted. His voice was calm, not unkind.

Bruce clenched his fists.

"Even so... I should have resisted longer."

Kyle placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You did well. Save your strength. You’ll need it in the days to come."

Bruce nodded firmly, his shame still lingering, but softened by Kyle’s words.

After a few more checks and a report on troop readiness, Kyle moved again.

He passed the halls where others were recovering, where Melissa was shouting orders and Grand Duchess Amana oversaw the healing of those most affected.

But one destination pulled him harder than any other.

Silvy.

The room where her body lay had been sealed during the divine affliction. A protective barrier remained, designed to preserve her body—but that hadn’t been enough.

Kyle stepped into the silent chamber and stopped cold.

Silvy’s body lay still, the same as before. Pale, unmoving. Her chest did not rise. Her fingers had not twitched.

Her mana was faint—barely tethered. The moment the divine pressure vanished, Kyle had dared to hope she might return too.

But she hadn’t.

The elf healer nearby straightened up when he saw Kyle and immediately bowed.

Kyle didn’t speak. He stepped forward, gently brushing Silvy’s hair back from her forehead as he examined her condition.

His expression darkened. Her mana connection had grown even thinner, almost ghostlike. Her soul... still missing.

"I was hoping she would return when the curse broke."

Kyle murmured.

The healer sighed.

"We all did. But her state was... already unstable before this happened. When everyone succumbed to the divine sleep, we couldn’t keep up her care. Her condition has... worsened."

Kyle didn’t flinch.

"It’s not your fault."

"But—"

"I said it’s fine."

Kyle said again, voice firmer.

The healers all lowered their heads, sorrow etched on their faces.

Kyle sat beside Silvy and took her hand in his. It was cold—too cold. His thumb gently rubbed the back of her hand.

"You really like testing my limits, don’t you?"

He whispered to her still form.

Silvy, of course, didn’t respond.

Kyle’s eyes closed briefly, his thoughts shifting. He had seen Lucia. Had found her.

That meant there was still hope. If her soul was trapped somewhere between realms, Kyle would reach it.

He would break the divine realms if he had to.

But not yet.

"Keep her stable. No matter what it costs."

He ordered the healers as he stood.

"Yes, Young Lord."

Kyle took one last glance at Silvy before leaving the room, his eyes colder than before.

The goddess had taken something precious from him.

And Kyle had every intention of getting it back.

______

In the ornate chamber of the royal council, sunlight streamed through stained-glass windows, painting the marble floors in hues of gold and crimson.

Ministers, generals, and noble elders were already seated, whispering among themselves with furrowed brows and tense shoulders.

The atmosphere was heavy. War loomed outside, unrest stirred within, and sleep-death had only just released its grasp.

Kyle entered without a word, his expression unreadable.

Behind him followed the Grand Duchess Amana, her head held high, and Prince Mikalius, ever relaxed despite the pressure crushing the room.

The murmurs stilled the moment Kyle took his seat at the roundtable.

"We’ve convened to discuss the ongoing crisis. But more importantly, Lord Kyle, we await your brilliant plan. You’ve been rather... elusive."

Began an elder minister, his voice sharp.

Another elder scoffed.

"Yes, quite mysterious. And dismissive."

Kyle leaned forward, resting his chin on one hand as he lazily swept his eyes across the table.

"Ah, right. You want to know what I’m going to do next?"

The room tensed. Even Prince Mikalius tilted his head in interest.

Kyle smiled, but the chill behind it made spines shiver.

"Don’t worry. I wouldn’t burden your tired old minds with the details. Your brains can’t handle my planning."

A collective silence followed.

One of the elders turned red.

"How dare you—!"

But before the man could rise, the Grand Duchess gracefully uncrossed her arms and spoke.

"Kyle. Do try to play nice. We are, after all, allies... for now."

Her voice was cool, but laced with amusement.

Prince Mikalius chuckled beside her.

"He has a point though. Most of you couldn’t predict a rabbit’s next hop, let alone Kyle’s plans."

The elders stewed in silence, too proud to snap back under the presence of royal blood and too intimidated by Kyle’s record.

"Just tell us this. Do you have a plan?"

A more level-headed general finally said.

Kyle’s eyes glinted.

"Of course."

"And does it involve victory?"

Kyle leaned back, arms folded behind his head.

"It always does."

Though most were annoyed, none could counter him. His methods were infuriating, but they worked.

And with that, the meeting begrudgingly continued, albeit with fewer interruptions. Underneath the tension, the council knew the truth: without Kyle, their chances would plummet.

Far away, beyond the mortal realm, in a garden of stars and dying constellations, Goddess Lucia stood silently, her long silver hair flowing in the voidless breeze.

Her hands trembled as she recalled the mirror—the mirror that shattered, the voice that called to her, and that maddeningly familiar gaze.

Kyle.

"He’s... alive."

The words left her lips like a breath she hadn’t meant to release.

He had found her. Fought his way through the divine curse. Faced two gods with ease.

And worst of all, he had spoken to her like nothing had changed. Like she still meant something.

Her chest tightened.

One of her puppets stepped forward, a feminine construct with half-formed eyes and a woven cloak of light.

"Goddess... you are shaking. Please rest."

Lucia turned her face away.

"No. I need answers."

"But your power—"

"I said I’m fine."

Lucia snapped. The puppet flinched. Immediately, Lucia sighed and softened her voice.

"I’m sorry. I just... I must visit the Chief God. He will know what is happening."