Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent-Chapter 93: Ch : The First Spark of Hope - Part 1

As Kyle stood to leave the central home, he looked toward the elders and gave a short nod.

"I'll return tomorrow for your answer. In the meantime, I'd appreciate it if you released my companions."

There was a short pause as the elders exchanged glances. Finally, the oldest one nodded.

"Very well. We had no intention of harming them. It was only precaution."

"Understandable. Then I'll see you tomorrow."

Kyle replied, his expression unreadable.

Moments later, Bruce and Melissa were untied.

They dusted themselves off with stoic expressions, and Kyle motioned for them to follow.

As the three of them exited the village, the tense eyes of the watching villagers trailed after them, filled with confusion, wariness, and a flicker of something else—hope.

They didn't speak for a while as they walked down the broken path, but Bruce eventually broke the silence.

"So… what do you think? Will they accept your offer? Or are we wasting our time?"

He asked.

Kyle didn't look back.

"They don't have much of a choice."

Bruce frowned slightly, but Kyle continued.

"They might hesitate. They might protest. But they've already reached the point where survival is uncertain. If they stay here, they'll keep wasting away until this village is gone. At least with me, they have a future to gamble on."

Melissa nodded thoughtfully, casting a glance at the trees swaying in the breeze.

"Desperation is a powerful motivator."

Kyle gave a short hum of agreement.

"Exactly. And I'm offering more than just survival—I'm offering power. It won't be long before they come to realize that."

As they made camp outside the village, the sun dipped below the horizon.

Meanwhile, back within the tattered borders of the settlement, the elders called a meeting under the only standing canopy near the village square.

Lanterns were lit, and villagers began to gather.

The scent of cooked boar still lingered in the air, but the atmosphere was no longer one of simple gratitude. Tension and anticipation buzzed like static.

"We'll put it to a vote. Who here wishes to follow the noble's offer and join him in preparing for war?"

The oldest elder announced, standing before the gathered crowd.

At first, no one moved. The crowd shifted awkwardly, eyes flickering between one another.

Fear and uncertainty were etched into every face.

Then, slowly, a hand went up.

"I'd rather take my chances on a battlefield than stay here rotting until winter takes me."

A ragged-looking man said, his voice steady.

Murmurs spread through the crowd. Another hand rose, this one belonging to a woman holding a sickly child.

"If we go with him, maybe they'll provide medicine. Better rations. And a reason to keep living."

A third voice joined in, younger this time.

"He said he'd teach us internal energy. People like us don't even get to see that kind of power, let alone learn it."

The crowd stirred more now, heads turning, minds changing.

What started as hesitant curiosity began to tip into cautious hope.

Just as the elders prepared to count the votes, another voice cut through the hopeful murmur.

"What if we die in war? What if we throw our lives away for a noble's dream and get nothing in return?"

A young man called out.

There was silence again. The mood hung heavy.

But then the first man, the one who'd spoken up, turned and faced the questioner.

"You think we'll live if we stay? Look around you. We're already dying. Maybe not in battle, but day by day, from hunger, from sickness, from nothingness. If we're going to die, I'd rather do it swinging a sword and fighting for something."

That struck a chord.

A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd, and more hands rose this time—dozens of them.

The elders exchanged long glances. The tide had turned, and the people had spoken.

"It seems the majority wishes to follow the noble."

The youngest elder said quietly.

The oldest one nodded with a sigh.

"Then we'll inform him tomorrow."

He looked toward the darkness beyond the village, where Kyle's campfire flickered in the distance.

Something about that young noble felt dangerous.

Ambitious.

Cold, yet clear in his purpose. And now, that same purpose had reached the hearts of their broken village.

Whether it would bring them salvation or ruin… they would find out soon.

______

The sharp, insistent chirping of Queen pierced the quiet morning air, dragging Kyle out of his sleep.

He groaned softly, eyes still closed, and turned his head toward the window of the tent where the first light of dawn filtered through.

Queen chirped again—louder this time—and flapped it's wings in agitation.

"Alright, alright. I'm up."

Kyle muttered, voice still husky from sleep.

He forced himself upright, his muscles protesting slightly.

He stretched lazily, rolling his shoulders until he heard a few satisfying pops, and then extended his senses outward with a controlled pulse of internal energy.

He caught the disturbance immediately—there was a surge of mana headed straight for the village.

It was chaotic, wild, and moving fast.

Kyle blinked once, then chuckled quietly to himself.

"Trouble already, huh?"

He rose smoothly, grabbing his blade from beside him and fastening it to his waist. Queen landed on his shoulder, clicking her beak and rustling her feathers in anticipation.

"We're going hunting."

He told her.

They moved fast through the broken path, Kyle weaving between trees like a shadow, each step controlled, silent, precise.

It didn't take long before he spotted them—wild boars, about a dozen of them, thundering across the forest floor like a small earthquake.

Their eyes glowed with a strange red tint, and foam dripped from their tusks. Madness clung to their forms like a shroud.

Kyle's eyes narrowed.

One of them—larger than the rest, with thick, bristled fur and a jagged scar running across its snout—was emitting mana.

And not just a little.

The creature was on the verge of forming a core, a monstrous feat for a wild beast. Its aura spiked and fluctuated erratically, unstable but steadily climbing.

"Now that's interesting."

Kyle murmured, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

The boars screeched to a halt as Kyle stepped into their path.

The ground trembled beneath them, and for a moment, there was a tense silence.

Then, the leader gave a guttural snort, lowered its tusks, and charged.

The others followed, stirred by the aggression of their leader.

Kyle didn't move.

He watched the beasts barrel toward him with wild, reckless abandon.

When they were just meters away, he shifted his stance, barely drawing on his mana. He didn't need it—not yet.

He moved like water, smooth and precise.

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The first boar lunged, but Kyle pivoted, sidestepping with a twist of his foot and slicing cleanly across its side with his blade.

Another came from the left, tusks gleaming, but Kyle ducked low and swept its legs out from under it before stabbing upward through its neck.

They came in waves, but Kyle danced between them—dodging, parrying, striking.

His movements were controlled, almost lazy, as though he was testing himself more than the beasts.

Minutes stretched on, the fight dragging longer than necessary, but Kyle didn't mind.

He was observing the leader, gauging the flow of its growing mana, studying how it adapted and commanded the others.

Eventually, only one stood—the leader, panting, bleeding, but still charging.

Kyle smiled, stepped forward, and with a flick of his wrist, ended it.

Twelve boars. No injuries. Barely a drop of mana spent.

He exhaled slowly and sheathed his blade.