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

Melissa and Bruce kept their stances sharp, but the silence between them carried the weight of grim realization.

Melissa's knuckles tightened on her daggers, her gaze darting over the god-candidate's flawless frame.

No scratch, no dent—nothing to suggest he could even be harmed. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she finally spoke, her voice low but edged with urgency.

"What do we do? My blades didn't even leave a mark."

Bruce kept his sword steady, though doubt gnawed at the back of his mind.

His strikes were usually enough to tear through plate armor, yet the sight of Melissa's fruitless assault confirmed what he feared.

"He's not like the opponents we have faced till now. That aura… it's not just power, it's shielding him. If we keep going in blind, we'll burn out before we even touch him."

Bruce muttered.

Melissa's jaw clenched.

"Then are you suggesting we retreat?"

Bruce shook his head, a grim chuckle escaping him despite the tension.

"We don't have that option, do we? Not when he's blocking the only way forward."

His eyes flicked briefly toward her, steady and unwavering.

"We'll have to figure out his weakness while fighting. Buy time, pressure him, and wait for something to slip."

Melissa nodded faintly, though her chest felt heavy.

This wasn't like the sparring duels she'd grown up with, nor even the brutal skirmishes she had fought alongside Kyle.

This man radiated the majesty of a god-candidate; his sheer presence dwarfed their humanity.

Still, the memory of Kyle's confidence flickered in her heart, steadying her resolve. If Kyle were here, he would face this head-on without hesitation. So would she.

But their opponent had grown impatient with their whispered exchange.

His golden aura flared violently, illuminating the chamber in a searing brilliance that stung their eyes.

"Enough talk. If you will not kneel, then you will crawl after I break you."

He spat, his voice reverberating like a thunderclap.

Before either of them could react, he moved.

One instant he was several strides away, and the next he was before them, faster than a blur. His bare hand came down like a blade, cutting through the air with lethal precision.

Bruce's instincts screamed. He pivoted, raising his sword in a desperate parry.

Steel met divine force—and shattered. The sound rang sharp, fragments of the blade scattering like sparks across the stone floor.

Bruce staggered back, shock coursing through him as the weight of his broken weapon trembled in his hands.

Melissa's breath caught.

"Bruce!"

But Bruce had no time to respond.

Their opponent didn't relent, his other hand swinging in a wide arc like a hammer intent on crushing them both.

Melissa darted forward without thinking, her daggers flashing as she crossed them in front of Bruce.

The impact rattled her arms, sending jolts of pain shooting up her elbows as divine power clashed against mortal steel.

The force drove her back several steps, her boots grinding against stone, but she held firm enough to keep Bruce from taking the full blow.

The god-candidate tilted his head, faint amusement glimmering in his golden eyes.

"Two against one, yet you still can't touch me. Pathetic."

Bruce grit his teeth, tossing aside the broken remnants of his sword. His chest heaved as he steadied his stance again, hands balling into fists.

"We're not done yet."

Melissa flicked her daggers, the steel humming as she drew mana into the edges. The ache in her arms pulsed, but she forced herself to stand tall, determination burning in her chest.

"Bruce. Left. Cover me."

"Got it."

He growled, already charging forward barehanded. If his blade couldn't withstand the force, then he would use his fists.

His body was built for resilience, forged in the crucible of battles Kyle had led him through. If nothing else, he could hold the god-candidate's attention.

The golden man didn't even shift his stance as Bruce closed in.

He let Bruce's punch connect squarely against his ribs—only for the sound of impact to echo hollow, like striking a wall of iron.

The god-candidate didn't flinch, but Bruce hissed as pain shot through his knuckles.

Melissa took the opening. She darted low, sliding past Bruce's side as her daggers slashed upward, aiming for his abdomen where the aura shimmered faintly weaker.

Her strike was clean, perfectly angled, but the moment her blades touched him, sparks flew and steel bounced off as though she'd struck stone.

The man's lip curled.

"Is that all?"

Then his knee snapped upward, driving into Melissa's stomach before she could pull away.

The blow knocked the wind from her lungs, sending her tumbling backward across the floor. She landed hard, coughing, clutching her midsection.

"Melissa!" Bruce roared, but the god-candidate seized him by the throat in the same instant, lifting him off the ground as if he weighed nothing.

Bruce's legs kicked, his hands clawing at the iron grip crushing his windpipe.

Melissa forced herself up, ignoring the pain. She dashed forward again, slashing wildly at the man's arm to free Bruce.

The daggers sparked, useless against the golden skin, but her desperation made her faster.

She drove one blade into the space between the god-candidate's fingers, not piercing but forcing his hand to slacken just enough for Bruce to gasp free and tumble aside.

The god-candidate finally frowned, though it was less from pain and more from annoyance.

"Persistent gnats. I'll crush you both and make you beg for mercy."

He said coldly.

Bruce coughed violently, blood flecking his lips, but he still staggered to his feet. His fists bled from the failed punches, his throat raw from the grip.

"Melissa, we need… something. A plan."

He rasped.

Melissa panted, daggers trembling slightly in her hands. Her mind raced, searching for any sign of weakness, any opening they hadn't tried.

But all she saw was that shining, untouchable body.

"We'll find one. We have to."

She said, though doubt gnawed at her. She refused to let her voice shake.

Their enemy smiled again, his golden aura flaring brighter.

"You won't. But I'll enjoy watching you try."

He blurred forward once more, and both Bruce and Melissa braced themselves—knowing full well they were on the losing side, but unwilling to yield an inch.

The fight was far from over.

The pressure in the chamber shifted abruptly, the overwhelming divinity surrounding them folding in on itself.

Melissa and Bruce, battered and bleeding but unyielding, staggered back as their opponent straightened with imperious pride.

His voice, smooth and commanding, carried the weight of countless victories.

"I am Emperor Julius. Your defiance amuses me, but it is wasted effort. I'll give you both one final chance—kneel and join me. Stand at my side, and you shall taste power greater than anything you've dreamed."

The god-candidate declared, his tone booming as though the world itself acknowledged him.

Bruce spat blood, glaring up at him.

"We already told you—we kneel for no one but our master."

Julius smirked, unbothered.

"Then let me show you what my majesty has achieved. Perhaps your loyalty will waver when you see the truth."

The system's voice suddenly rang out, urgent and sharp:

[Warning. Illusionary spatial shift detected. Do not trust what you see.]

But Julius was already moving. He raised his hand, and reality itself seemed to shudder.

Light bent, shadows fractured, and the divine chamber melted away like painted glass dissolving in water.

Melissa gasped as the ground vanished beneath them, replaced by endless skies.

It felt as though they had left the divine realm entirely.