Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent-Chapter 228: Ch : The Price of Power- Part 2

Kyle’s aura surged like a tidal wave as he gathered his mana, the very air trembling around him with pressure. His eyes narrowed at the Saintess.

"I’ve entertained your theatrics long enough. Now, let me show you how I silence the divine."

He said coldly, his voice layered with mana.

The Saintess instinctively stepped back, a flicker of unease crossing her face.

Her connection to the divine was her greatest weapon, one she believed untouchable. But the intent in Kyle’s eyes made her heart race.

’He can’t possibly...’

She gritted her teeth and subtly activated her contingency plan.

From behind the line of trees nearby, one of her ’spare saintesses’ appeared—girls who were born with the potential to serve as vessels in case she needed to divert divine attention.

Kyle’s gaze flicked toward the new arrival.

"So that’s how it is."

In a flash of movement, his sword sliced through the space between them, and the spare saintess’s divine aura sputtered and went dark.

Her snow-white hair dulled to gray, her glowing eyes lost their light, and she collapsed, twitching briefly before going still.

The Saintess gasped, horror and fury mixing on her face.

"You monster! She offered herself willingly! We all do! This is devolution, a sacred process—an honor!"

She shouted.

"Honor? You call being hollowed out and discarded honor? The divine still treat humans as tools, and fools like you thank them for it."

Kyle scoffed, disgust coloring his tone.

She took a shaky breath but steadied herself.

"You don’t understand anything. You’re just a man drowning in bitterness. The Goddess accepts what we offer—our bodies, our devotion—and she blesses us in return!"

Even as she spoke, divine power surged into her body. A glowing sigil bloomed behind her, and her skin began to glow.

Threads of pure divinity wove into her limbs.

"See? The Goddess has responded to me. My body now carries its will!"

She whispered, as her feet lifted slightly off the ground.

But Kyle didn’t flinch. He raised his sword again, the blade shimmering with mana.

"If that’s the best it can give you... then either the goddess is weak, or you are unworthy.""

he stepped forward, his pressure intensifying

He slashed forward, his mana surging in waves that overpowered hers instantly. Her divine glow flickered like a candle in the wind and began to dim.

"You—!"

She began, but Kyle cut her off.

"This pressure... This is all you’ve got?"

He asked, staring her down.

"If this is the extent of the goddess’s will flowing through you, then it’s clear: you’ve been abandoned. What you’re wielding isn’t divinity—it’s the leftover scraps."

The Saintess tried to retaliate, to raise her staff or cast another chant, but her limbs shook under the immense pressure.

The divine connection she so proudly called upon now seemed distant—hazy, like a dream slipping away.

She fell to one knee, clutching her chest, sweat beading down her forehead. Her vision blurred as she fought just to stay conscious.

"Why...? Why are you doing this? Why are you going against the gods?"

She rasped.

Kyle stepped closer, staring down at her like she was something pitiful.

"You don’t need to know. You’re just a pawn—an echo. You wouldn’t understand even if I told you"

He said.

"You...What are you?"

She whispered, her voice trembling.

Kyle turned away, the edge of his cloak fluttering as his sword dimmed.

"I’m the reckoning. And I’m done letting the divine decide who lives and who dies."

He muttered.

Behind him, the Saintess collapsed to the ground fully, her divine light extinguished.

And for the first time in a long while, the battlefield was silent.

______

In the divine realm, far removed from the mortal coil, where time rippled like silk and silence reigned absolute, a figure stirred.

Upon a grand dais of crystal light and golden clouds, a woman of otherworldly beauty lay reclined.

Her hair was a cascade of white so pure it shimmered, her skin like marble kissed by moonlight, and her eyes—if they could be called such—were twin orbs of featureless white, aglow with endless serenity.

Until now.

A sudden jolt of pain flashed through her left arm. Seraphina, the goddess worshipped across empires, frowned.

The lines of her face, typically devoid of emotion, pulled ever so slightly into something resembling irritation.

Her attendants, clothed in translucent robes spun from threads of starlight, rushed to her side.

"Goddess Seraphina, are you unwell? Did something disturb your eternal harmony?"

"I’m fine."

Seraphina said flatly, her voice melodious but cold. She sat upright, eyes narrowing as another sharper, deeper stab of pain lanced through her chest—foreign and invasive.

A feeling she had not experienced in millennia.

"This shouldn’t be possible."

She murmured.

She hadn’t felt pain—not real pain—since that man had died.

That man.

The mortal who defied the heavens, who refused her blessings, who tore through divine design with his mere existence. Kyle.

A flicker of annoyance passed over her perfect features.

’He’s gone. Dead. Erased from fate.’

And yet—this feeling...

"I will investigate."

She announced, and with a mere thought, her divine perception expanded.

She scanned the threads of fate tied to her incarnations—fragments of her grace scattered across the mortal world.

There were hundreds, perhaps thousands. Most were forgettable, pitiful followers who barely managed to channel a speck of her essence.

Her mind skimmed through them until one caught her attention.

A young woman—her current Saintess—was screaming prayers toward the heavens, begging for salvation as her divine power trembled.

Seraphina peered closer and immediately felt it—the mana pressing against her incarnation’s. That familiar presence, dark yet disciplined, immense and suffocating.

Her white eyes narrowed into a thin line.

"Kyle...?"

It was not him—at least, not the same. But the mana was too similar. Too precise. And too dangerous to ignore.

The goddess rose to her feet, her gown flowing like liquid moonlight. "Bring her more power," she commanded.

One of her attendants hesitated.

"But, my lady... her body—"

"I know. It will break. But I am curious. And I will not allow another anomaly to rise unchecked."

Seraphina snapped.

Without further delay, Seraphina reached down, extending her power like a blazing spear of light. It pierced through realms and latched onto her Saintess.

The mortal girl screamed as her body was flooded with divine mana far beyond her limits. Her veins glowed, her eyes burned white, and her skin began to blister and crack under the pressure.

"Interesting."

Seraphina whispered, watching from afar.

She saw her Saintess’s bones warp, her staff disintegrate from the overflow, and her very soul begin to crack.

But she also saw the boy—no, the man—holding his ground.

He didn’t buckle. Didn’t retreat. If anything, his mana responded with a force that defied logic.

It grew.

Seraphina’s expression hardened.

She turned to her attendants.

"Looks like I will bestow my blessing on a human after all."

They gasped.

"My lady, you can’t be serious!"

"I will not allow another Kyle to exist. If this one dares reach even a fraction of his predecessor’s strength, I will strike him down myself. And if it means burning away this Saintess to do so, so be it."

The pain surged again—this time through her connection with the Saintess, whose body was violently rejecting the divine overload. Yet Seraphina didn’t flinch.

She leaned closer, feeding more power into her vessel.

"This is not for your salvation," she whispered coldly to the Saintess.

"This is for my peace."

She would sacrifice her incarnation.

And she would destroy this rising anomaly before it could reach the heavens.