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

Kyle sat on the edge of his bed, his hands resting on his knees as he stared at the faint shimmer of the system's screen.

The cold words that had just been spoken to him still lingered in the air, and for a long while, he said nothing.

Finally, he whispered, his tone low but unwavering.

"I promise you. If you have carried me this far, then I will make sure your end is noble. You won't be a tool of tyranny anymore. You won't harm civilizations again. I'll see to it."

He said.

For the first time, the system seemed to hesitate before its text shimmered back.

[Then I entrust this to you, Kyle Armstrong.]

The screen flickered before fading out, closing its window completely. Yet the connection remained.

Kyle could feel it like an invisible thread, humming faintly in the depths of his mind. The divine system had not cut him off.

Instead, it was still whispering, still feeding him streams of information from the greater whole.

Moments later, another notification surfaced in his vision.

[The main passage will open in seven days. The chosen will be granted entry to the divine domain. Those who bond with the system shall inherit godhood.]

Kyle leaned back, exhaling a long breath.

So it begins."

The next morning, he summoned Crown Prince Mikalius to his quarters.

The young man arrived quickly, his expression sharp, though the fatigue of constant preparation lingered beneath his eyes.

Kyle did not waste time.

"We have a week before the main passage opens. I need you to gather everyone marked by the system in this kingdom. Every last one of them. I want to see how many we're competing against."

Mikalius nodded immediately.

"I'll spread the word. Do you… expect the numbers to be high?"

He paused, frowning.

Kyle shrugged.

"I expect double digits, maybe a few dozen. But we need certainty. Gather them all. After that… we'll see."

By the end of the week, the chosen had gathered.

And Kyle's expectations shattered.

The massive courtyard was packed—hundreds of figures, their foreheads glowing faintly with the same divine mark.

The air itself thrummed with an uneasy energy, dozens of conversations clashing together, people shifting uncomfortably, eyeing one another like wary predators.

Kyle scanned the crowd, his face unreadable, though his eyes hardened. There were too many. Far too many.

Melissa's hand tightened around the hilt of her blade as she stepped closer to Kyle, her expression grim.

"This… this is insane. I thought there would be a few dozen at most. But this—"

She gestured at the teeming mass of candidates.

"There are hundreds, Kyle. Hundreds in just this kingdom alone. And not all of them even bothered to come. Imagine how many more are hiding."

Her voice grew sharper.

"And this is just our world. There are others, aren't there? If the divine system is pulling candidates from every world it governs, then the numbers…"

She trailed off, her frown deepening.

"This is more than difficult. It's impossible."

For a moment, silence stretched between them. The enormity of the truth pressed down on everyone.

But Kyle's lips curved into a faint, almost cold smile.

"Melissa, don't worry."

He said softly.

She turned to him sharply.

"Don't worry? Kyle, there are hundreds of chosen here. Do you have any idea how—"

But Kyle raised a hand, cutting her off. His tone carried no hesitation.

"This number is not something the divine system can handle either. It's collapsing on itself. It's unstable. Do you think it has the power to uphold this many candidates? No."

He shook his head, his eyes glinting.

"It will start filtering them out soon enough. The weak, the indecisive, the unworthy—they'll be cast aside."

Melissa bit her lip, unwilling to admit that his logic steadied her.

"…But what if it doesn't filter fast enough? What if we're buried under sheer numbers?"

"Then we'll deal with it. We've fought against gods, Melissa. Do you think a crowd of half-prepared candidates can compare to that? Numbers don't decide everything."

Kyle's voice was firm, commanding.

Around them, Silvy, Bruce, and the others had gathered, listening quietly. Bruce folded his arms.

"I agree with the young master. Numbers don't matter if they don't have the will to use their strength."

Silvy, however, looked uneasy, her hands clenching at her sides.

"Still… this many means the divine system is desperate. It's throwing everything at the wall to see what sticks."

"Desperation is weakness. And weakness can be exploited."

Kyle said with a faint, grim smile.

He turned back to the courtyard, his gaze sweeping over the restless crowd.

Hundreds of hopefuls, each thinking themselves destined for greatness, each believing they had a chance to seize godhood.

Kyle knew better.

"This isn't a test of numbers. This is a test of resolve. And resolve… is something I have in abundance."

He murmured, almost to himself.

Melissa looked at him, her eyes narrowing, then softened ever so slightly.

"…As long as you're leading us, Kyle, I'll believe that."

Kyle did not answer her directly. Instead, he raised his voice, carrying it across the courtyard, silencing the restless murmur of the gathered chosen.

"Seven days. In seven days, the passage opens. If you are weak, you will die. If you falter, you will be consumed. Only those who are prepared will survive what comes."

He declared, his tone sharp as a blade.

The crowd stirred, whispers rising again, some faces paling, others hardening with resolve.

Kyle's eyes swept over them one last time before he turned back to his companions. His decision was already made.

"Let the system filter them. All we need to do… is be ready when it matters."

He said coldly.

______

Duchess Amana stood tall at the front of the gathered crowd, her presence radiating calm authority that slowly began to seep into the restless masses.

The air was thick with tension—hundreds of marked individuals whispering, some clutching their hands as if afraid the strange crest might burn them, others demanding answers.

The murmur of panic threatened to swell into chaos, but the duchess raised her hand, and the clamor fell into uneasy silence.

"Listen well,"

Amana's voice rang out, steady and commanding. "I understand the fear in your hearts. I understand the confusion you carry. But I assure you—this mark is not a curse, nor is it something you need to be afraid of. It is simply a sign, a passage you have been chosen for. Nothing more."

Her eyes swept over the crowd, lingering on the younger ones who looked terrified, and the older ones clutching their chests with dread.

"You will not be forced into anything. There will be guidance. There will be instructions. You will not lose your lives or your families to this. For now, you need only remain calm and wait."

The murmurs began again, but this time less frantic, more subdued. Amana continued.

"I swear upon my name as Grand Duchess, none of you will be abandoned. We are working to find a way to return you to your normal lives, and when the time comes, you will be told what path lies ahead. Until then—do not despair."

Her words carried conviction, and even those most frightened felt their hearts ease.

Where Mikalius might have struggled to hold the crowd, Amana's natural authority soothed them into reluctant silence.

Slowly, the restless gathering began to disperse, their panic tempered by the assurance of her words.

Kyle, watching from the side, noted quietly to himself how naturally she took control. Melissa muttered under her breath.

"She makes it look too easy."

But even she had to admit the duchess's composure had prevented a riot.

For now, at least, the kingdom remained steady. But the true storm was yet to come.