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

Nigel staggered back a few steps as the chamber trembled with divine energy. The spear-wielder lunged, his thrust a blur of silver light.

The blade-wielder circled in from the side, cutting arcs of radiant mana meant to slice through Nigel's defenses like paper.

For a few moments, Nigel felt overwhelmed—his body wasn't built for this scale of combat. Every strike cracked against his bones, every dodge left his lungs burning.

But then… something shifted.

The system's pulse resonated in his chest, its hum spreading through his veins like a second heartbeat.

When the spear thrust came again, Nigel didn't retreat. He twisted, caught the shaft with his bare hand, and with a surge of foreign yet strangely familiar energy, redirected it.

The attacker's eyes widened as the weapon was flung off course, crashing into the wall with explosive force.

"Impossible! You shouldn't even understand how to move against us!"

The spear-wielder barked, stumbling back.

The blade-user pressed harder, slashing again and again, arcs of divine light tearing the ground open. Yet Nigel's body began to flow with the rhythm.

He ducked at the exact moment needed, stepped into openings he shouldn't have seen, and finally caught the blade's edge with a glowing fist.

The divine energy bit into his flesh, but instead of consuming him, it coursed around him—twisting, reshaping. The system whispered:

[Assimilation ongoing. Candidate's adaptability—accelerated. Synchronization: 45% → 62% → 79%...]

Nigel grinned through the sweat dripping into his eyes.

"You're not wrong… I shouldn't be able to keep up with you. But here's the thing—"

He twisted the blade free from his opponent's grip and shoved it back, sending the wielder stumbling.

"—I'm a fast learner."

The two divine fighters exchanged a look of disbelief. This mortal was supposed to be an intruder, a nuisance.

Yet the longer they fought, the more the system itself seemed to bend in his favor.

Their attacks grew desperate, furious, but no matter how much force they poured in, Nigel's body and spirit rose to meet them, borrowing strength from the very power they believed was theirs alone.

The spear-wielder snarled.

"No… this can't be happening. You're stealing our bond to the system!"

Nigel's grin sharpened, and his fists flared with mana not his own.

"Not stealing. Adapting."

He struck forward with a blow that sent shockwaves across the chamber.

The blade-wielder raised his weapon to block—but the impact shattered it into fragments of light, flinging him across the floor.

"You bastard!"

The spear-wielder roared, charging in fury.

Nigel ducked beneath the thrust, his hand glowing with the system's light. He thrust upward into the man's chest, not piercing flesh, but unraveling the very energy animating him.

The divine aura cracked apart, and the warrior fell to his knees, eyes wide with disbelief before he collapsed into fading motes.

The last attacker struggled back to his feet, clutching the remnants of his broken weapon. His voice trembled.

"How… how did you do it? We were chosen. We had the system's blessing. You… you're just human!"

Nigel's chest heaved, his legs threatening to buckle, but he stood tall, looking the man dead in the eye.

"That's where you're wrong. I'm not 'just' human. I'm someone who refuses to be left behind."

His fist glowed brighter, the system pulsing in resonance.

"And now… it's your turn to pay."

The final strike rang like a bell across the chamber. The blade-user fell, his body dispersing into motes of divine dust, leaving Nigel alone amidst the stillness.

Silence stretched. Nigel swayed, nearly collapsing under the weight of exhaustion.

His body screamed in protest, his breath ragged, but he caught himself at the last moment, one knee pressing to the floor.

He clenched his fist against the cold ground, his thoughts flashing to Kyle.

"Don't fight it. Once the system notices you, let it help. Don't resist. Guide it, and let it guide you."

Kyle had told him, his voice firm but calm.

Nigel exhaled, forcing a smile despite the ache gnawing at every muscle.

"I listened, Brother.I really did…"

The system's voice returned, steady and calm now, no longer distant:

[Acknowledgment: Candidate Nigel—Accepted. Adaptability exceeds modeled thresholds. System bond stabilized.]

A surge of warmth spread through him, the system knitting his wounds, easing the tremors in his body.

For the first time since stepping into the chamber, Nigel felt not like an intruder—but like someone meant to be here.

He rose to his feet, shoulders squaring. The chamber's light dimmed around him, as though bowing to his will.

Nigel looked at the spot where his opponents had fallen and shook his head.

"You underestimated me… just like everyone always does at the start. But I'll show you. I'll show everyone."

His lips curved into a tired but fierce smile.

The system pulsed in agreement, its voice steady and unwavering:

[Acknowledged: You have the system's attention. Walk forward.]

And with that, Nigel began his slow, deliberate march deeper into the god's palace—no longer just another pawn on the battlefield, but something greater, forged in defiance and sharpened by willpower.

Nigel's footsteps echoed faintly as he entered the core chamber.

The room pulsed with an otherworldly rhythm, its walls carved with symbols that seemed alive, shifting with the beat of the divine system.

At the center stood the core—an orb of blinding white light, suspended above an altar. It radiated power so dense that even breathing felt heavy.

Nigel swallowed hard, forcing his trembling legs to move. He reached out, his hand shaking, and pressed it against the surface of the core.

The instant contact was made, the chamber exploded with brilliance, engulfing him completely. His vision vanished, replaced by endless light.

A voice rang within him, calm yet overwhelming:

[Acknowledgment confirmed. Candidate Nigel—designated as the Fourth God of the Age.]

The words struck like thunder in his chest, reverberating through every fiber of his being. His veins burned with new energy as mana unlike any he had felt before surged into him.

It wasn't just power—it was vast, refined, and absolute, the kind that dwarfed even the divine entities he had fought.

Nigel gasped, clenching his fists as waves of strength coursed through him. His body screamed as if it were being remade, his bones and muscles reshaped to contain what now flowed within him.

He staggered but refused to collapse. Slowly, his breathing steadied.

Another command followed, cold and direct:

[Proceed to the central hall. Await further orders.]

The light dimmed, returning him to the chamber. Nigel's hand slipped away from the core, but the connection lingered, humming deep inside.

He stood taller now, his presence heavier, his aura radiating with the unmistakable weight of divinity.

He stared down at his hands, flexing them as threads of golden mana sparked between his fingers.

"So this… this is what it means to stand as a god."

His voice trembled, not with fear, but with awe.

Yet he quickly shook the thought away. He couldn't afford to lose himself in wonder.

Kyle's words echoed once more in his mind, a reminder to remain grounded, to use this gift rather than let it use him.

Straightening his back, Nigel exhaled and began walking. His pace was slow at first, then steadier with each step, his exhaustion fading beneath the tide of newfound strength.

The great doors at the chamber's end opened as though sensing his arrival.

Nigel strode forward, determined. Whatever awaited in the central hall, he would face it head-on—because now, he was no longer just a follower.

He was the Fourth God of the Age.