Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent-Chapter 100: Ch : The Gambling Den - Part 2

The tea was still steaming slightly when Bernard poured it into the porcelain cup, the faint clink of ceramic on ceramic echoing softly through the room.

Duke Armstrong sat in his usual chair, his posture regal and his eyes contemplative as he watched the butler's movements.

"You're unusually quiet today, Bernard. Are you worried about the boy?"

The Duke said, fingers lightly tapping the armrest of his chair.

The butler's hand faltered for a moment as he set the teapot down, but he recovered quickly.

"Not at all, Your Grace. Our young master is… capable nowadays. He has changed a lot."

Bernard replied with a respectful bow.

The Duke's sharp eyes narrowed slightly.

"Don't lie to me."

Bernard's lips thinned.

He had served the Duke for decades—he knew there was no hiding anything from the man once he set his mind to uncovering the truth.

After a moment's pause, the Duke asked.

"What do you think of Kyle? Of his change?"

The question caught Bernard off guard, but he lowered his eyes and answered truthfully.

"I think… despite everything, I still see him as the same child I helped raise. The boy who used to follow me around the halls and ask me the names of every herb in the garden."

His voice softened.

"He has changed, yes, but even now, I feel the urge to protect him."

Duke Armstrong exhaled slowly, disappointment flickering across his face.

"That's your mistake, Bernard. He's not a child anymore—and he doesn't need your protection in the way he used to."

Bernard looked up, troubled.

"But… is this change really for the better? Will it truly help him? I feel like he has gotten more power, but as for maturity, I am not so sure."

The Duke did not answer right away. He picked up the teacup, letting the aroma rise and linger between them.

Then he asked, almost absently,

"Tell me, Bernard. Do you believe that power is everything when it comes to ruling?"

Bernard blinked.

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"Isn't it? Those with power… they can bend others to their will. Make things happen."

The Duke chuckled—a low, knowing sound that held little humor. His expression turned grave.

"Power alone means nothing. There are far too many strong people in the world, and most of them fall. Why? Because strength invites challenge. It breeds arrogance. Isolation."

He looked at Bernard with eyes that had seen kingdoms rise and fall.

"But those who endure—those who rule—are the ones who know how to use power. Who can make the strong kneel and the wise follow. Who can inspire loyalty and bend chaos into order."

Bernard swallowed.

"You're testing him."

The Duke nodded once, slowly.

"This journey he's on… it's not about subduing rebels. It's to see if he can wield power properly. If this new 'self' of his is worth grooming."

His voice dropped a little.

"We cannot afford another blunt sword. I need to know if Kyle can be the kind of blade that cuts only when necessary—and leads when no sword is needed."

Bernard bowed his head, suddenly feeling as if he had underestimated the weight Kyle now carried. A strange, cold guilt settled into his chest.

'Have I been coddling him? Is that why I'm afraid?'

He didn't voice these thoughts, but the Duke saw the turmoil in his old friend's eyes.

"Don't pity him, Bernard. If he is to walk this path, then sentiment will only burden him. Let him prove who he truly is."

He said softly.

______

Meanwhile, Kyle walked silently through the halls of the gambling house.

The interior was lavish.

Deep velvet curtains muffled sound, and gilded lanterns cast warm, golden glows along the corridor walls. Perfumed air mixed with the faint scent of smoke and coin.

But Kyle didn't spare more than a glance. His instincts were prickling—telling him this was not just a den of pleasure and luck.

The man leading him walked with unhurried grace, confident in his footing and presence.

Every once in a while, he would glance back to check on Kyle, and Kyle made sure to keep his steps measured, his gaze lowered in false deference. He knew better than to act curious now.

They passed a set of doors—rooms likely meant for high-stakes games—and went deeper into the estate, down a quieter corridor lit only by scattered wall sconces.

The mana in the air grew thicker, charged with something… volatile.

Kyle remained alert, every muscle taut. His eyes were calm, but inside, he was coiled like a spring.

'This place is more than it seems. And this man... he's not just staff. Possibly the owner—or someone with significant control.'

He thought.

He thought about Queen circling above.

If anything went wrong, he only had himself. But that was more than fine with Kyle.

The man walking ahead of Kyle slowed down slightly, tilting his head just enough to speak over his shoulder.

"So, tell me, did the main branch finally send someone to oversee the progress of the ceremony?"

he began, voice smooth and unreadable.

Kyle's eyes sharpened.

'Ceremony? Main branch?'

That was unexpected. He had only followed Silvy here on a hunch, and now he was being mistaken for someone sent by some higher authority.

But Kyle kept his expression neutral.

"I believe you have me mistaken for someone else."

He replied calmly.

The man came to a full stop and turned to face him. There was a heartbeat of silence. Then he chuckled, low and amused.

"Oh, don't be such a mood-killer. We both know the nature of this place. Everyone has a mask, and a secret tucked behind it. Don't ruin the game so early."

The man waved it off like a joke, though something flickered behind his masked eyes—disappointment, perhaps, or calculation.

Kyle didn't answer.

There was no point in pushing back right now, especially not when he had just been granted entry into a place he hadn't even known existed an hour ago. Instead, he nodded lightly and allowed himself to be led deeper inside.

"Before you enter, you should know. The people inside don't like liars or weaklings. I hope you've brought something to the table"

He said.

Kyle's mask didn't move and he did not speak. But the man took it as a sigh of agreement.

As the grand double doors opened before them, the sounds of lively chatter, clinking glasses, and the rhythmic shuffle of cards poured out.

The room inside was a decadent casino, filled with people in ornate masks, laughter veiling tension in every corner.

Before Kyle could fully take in the scene, a loud, teasing voice rang out from across the hall.

"High Inquisitor Charles! Finally gracing us with your presence?"

Kyle's gaze snapped toward the speaker, but it was the name that echoed louder in his mind.

'Charles. High Inquisitor Charles.'

The man beside him gave a faint wave to the room in acknowledgment, then leaned closer to Kyle with a smirk behind his mask.

"Keep our little talk to yourself, won't you? Secrets are currency here."

He said under his breath.

Kyle had a sudden feeling he had walked into a goldmine, and he had to stop himself from smiling at his sudden burst of fortune.

______

Remember, I can be bribed with gifts.