Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent-Chapter 341: Ch : Resisting With all your Might- Part 2

Goddess Charrin sprawled lazily across her throne-like seat, one leg draped over the side, her golden eyes fixed intently on the cube in her hand.

It pulsed with restrained energy—Kyle Armstrong’s mana, sealed and bound, yet still very much alive within the divine artifact.

Her fingers tapped against its glowing surface as she tilted her head and scowled.

"You’re still fighting? Why, Kyle? There is no one left to save. No cause left to chase. You could surrender now and I’d make it worth your while."

She asked, her voice a blend of curiosity and irritation.

She brought the cube closer to her lips, smiling faintly as if whispering secrets to a lover.

"I could give you a new purpose, you know. Something beyond this tiresome vengeance. I’d even let you live, Kyle. Serve me, and you’ll never need to suffer again."

But as her words echoed across the grand hall, the cube vibrated violently in her palm.

Suddenly, a slash of brilliant mana burst from it—sharp and wild.

It ripped through the air and grazed across her cheek, tearing flesh for the briefest second before the divine regeneration took hold.

The wound closed seamlessly, not even leaving a scar, but the sting remained.

Her fingers clenched tightly around the cube as her lips twisted into a snarl.

"You dare leave a mark on my face? You insolent worm."

She growled, tossing the cube into the air and catching it again with a scalding burst of divine magic.

For a few moments, the goddess’s breathing was heavy. She leaned back in her seat, shoulders tense, eyes narrowed at the cube that refused to break.

Even sealed, Kyle Armstrong was still resisting—still reminding her that he would not bend, even before a god.

Before she could toss the cube again, the grand doors of the temple opened with a metallic groan.

Her head priest entered, robes torn at the edges, a sheen of sweat clinging to his brow. He bowed quickly, clearly knowing better than to delay when her mood was sour.

"My goddess, an army is approaching. They are marching straight toward us. Their banners... they are not local. Likely from the rebel camp."

He panted.

Charrin turned her golden gaze on him slowly, her expression unreadable.

"Rebels?"

She repeated, her voice quiet, too quiet.

The head priest nodded quickly.

"They may attack within the day. We believe it is led by the elven girl who escaped us earlier."

For a moment, silence hung in the chamber. Then Charrin let out a frustrated groan and stood from her throne in a single graceful motion, grabbing the divine halberd resting at her side.

"Enough!"

She muttered, sweeping her free hand through the air as if dismissing fate itself.

"I gave them chances. I even allowed them to walk away. And yet... they come back again and again, scraping at my temple like rats."

The floor trembled faintly beneath her as her divine power rose with her mood. Her halo flared behind her head, a searing ring of radiant light.

"If Kyle Armstrong wants a war, I’ll give him one. Since I cannot drag him into submission within that cube, I’ll destroy everything he fought to protect instead."

She hissed.

She stepped down from her dais, the hem of her gown trailing sparks against the polished stone.

"Ready the divine warriors. I’ll be on the frontlines myself this time."

"But Goddess—"

The priest began, alarmed.

She shot him a glance.

"Do you think I’m afraid of mortals? Of elves? Of broken generals or half-trained girls who run into forests and call themselves heroes?"

The priest bowed again. frёewebηovel.cѳm

"Forgive me, Goddess. I only meant to—"

"Silence. Prepare the city. Seal the temple behind me. If they survive what I do to them, they’ll find no sanctuary left."

She said.

She turned to glance once more at the cube still floating near her throne.

"I’ll deal with you later."

She muttered darkly.

Then, without waiting for another word, she vanished in a flash of blinding light—gone to meet the rebels, rage in her heart and divine judgment in her wake.

The army of the Grand Duchess stood at the edge of the holy city of Charrin, their armor dulled with dirt, their faces streaked with sweat and blood.

Silvy and Bruce led the charge, but even the strongest of their warriors bore the weight of fatigue.

Marching for days, nursing injuries, and bracing for battle without Kyle Armstrong had left morale threadbare.

There was hesitation in every step. Doubt lingered in every eye.

Silvy looked up at the towering white walls of the divine city, now ringed with eerie light. Divine energy rolled off it in oppressive waves, thick enough to make even breathing difficult.

The soldiers behind her shifted uncomfortably, their weapons lowered, their hearts unsteady.

"Without Kyle..."

Someone muttered in the ranks, the words barely audible but powerful enough to make others flinch.

Before the doubt could fester any further, a ripple of mana surged through the air.

A brilliant light exploded in the sky above the army’s encampment and then took shape—Grand Duchess Amana’s figure, woven from her mana, stood tall like a giant among clouds.

Her voice, carried with power and conviction, rang across the battlefield:

"Warriors of our realm! Today we fight not just for survival—but for Kyle Armstrong! He gave us the courage to stand. Now we must give him the strength to return!"

The effect was immediate.

A cheer rose from the crowd, some with tears in their eyes, others clenching their weapons tightly.

Doubt shattered like glass under the duchess’s will, and with a unified roar, the army charged the gates.

The outer defense of Charrin fell quickly. Priests and soldiers trained only for ceremonial duties stood no chance against seasoned warriors burning with newfound resolve.

Divine wards broke under Silvy’s arrows. Bruce’s sword flashed like lightning, cleaving through enchanted armor.

Victory seemed within reach—until the sky darkened.

A sudden silence fell as a gust of unnatural wind blew over the battlefield. Shadows blanketed the city like a curtain of night.

Then came the sound. Not thunder, but the flap of immense wings.

The sky split open, and from its rift descended a figure cloaked in divine majesty—Goddess Charrin herself. Her wings stretched endlessly, blotting out the sun.

Her eyes glowed with merciless light, and her presence alone pressed the army to their knees.

She floated above them, her voice cold and absolute.

"Submit... or die."

No one spoke.

No one submitted.

Bruce raised his blade.

Silvy stepped forward, blood trailing from her cheek, defiance burning in her eyes.

The goddess’s lips curled in disdain.

"So be it."

She raised her hand to the heavens, divine mana swirling violently in her palm, shaping into a sphere of annihilation that would wipe out the battlefield.

Light distorted, space trembled, and everyone felt their end approaching.

But then—

A crack.

The cube containing Kyle Armstrong, hidden deep within the divine sanctum, began to shake.

Divine threads binding it frayed and then snapped.

From it exploded a beam of mana so sharp, so sudden, it tore across the skies and slammed into the goddess’s outstretched hand.

Charrin recoiled, genuine pain flashing in her expression. Her spell faltered. The divine light around her hand flickered out, and she looked down, stunned.

"What...?"

She clutched her injured arm, staring toward the temple. Her perfect face marred with faint cracks of glowing red where Kyle’s mana had touched her.

On the ground, silence.

Then a whisper.

"He’s still fighting..."

One soldier said.

"He’s alive!"

"It’s Kyle!"

A scream of hope tore through the army, stronger than any battle cry. Even those who had nearly collapsed stood straight again.

Silvy, her voice trembling but fierce, raised her bow high.

"He’s buying us time! Don’t let it go to waste!"

The army roared in return, defiance restored, belief reignited.

Above them, Charrin snarled. For the first time, the goddess looked uncertain. The cube had cracked. And with that single crack, the mortal world refused to fall.

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