Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent-Chapter 186: Ch : He Survived- Part 2

The quarters Kyle had been given were tucked into the far edge of the barracks—barren, cramped, and painfully close to where the soldiers slept and trained.

The stone walls were cold and the window small, letting in little light.

There was no ornamentation, no desk, not even a proper closet—just a cot, a water basin, and a wooden chest for storage. The air smelled faintly of oil and damp leather.

The butler who had escorted Kyle stood awkwardly at the door, clearly distressed.

He glanced around the room, visibly bothered by the complete lack of refinement.

"I must apologize again, Lord Armstrong. These quarters… they are meant for ordinary officers. This is an oversight. I will inform the Baron at once. If word of this arrangement gets out, and your house takes offense…"

He said, lowering his voice.

Kyle, who was already placing his travel cloak into the chest, looked over his shoulder with a relaxed smile.

"There's no need to bother him. I'll manage just fine."

The butler blinked.

"But, my Lord—"

"I won't be filing any complaints. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Kyle added.

The butler hesitated, then bowed stiffly and left. Still, as he returned toward the main estate, his mind spun with worries.

If the son of Duke Armstrong truly took offense, it could mean serious political damage.

'I must speak to the master.'

He thought grimly.

Meanwhile, Kyle, now alone in the small space, rolled his shoulders and chuckled.

He changed into a simple tunic and trousers—commoner wear without any insignia or hints of nobility—before stepping out into the training grounds.

It didn't take long to find the soldiers.

A large group was going through morning drills in neat rows, sweat glistening on their skin, commands being barked sharply by a broad-shouldered man with a thick beard and an authoritative voice.

Kyle approached casually, but before he could get far, the instructor spotted him.

"You there! Late again? Didn't anyone teach you punctuality?"

The man barked.

Kyle paused, then looked behind him before realizing the man was talking to him.

"You'll make up for it with double rounds! Get in line."

The instructor snapped.

Kyle simply nodded and joined the rows of soldiers without complaint.

He took the drills seriously, mimicking the movements and techniques exactly as they were shown.

His motions were fluid, precise—too polished for a rookie, but not enough to stand out too early.

Still, a few soldiers near him gave him curious looks, whispering as they took note of his seamless footwork and solid stances.

After the warm-ups and formation drills, the instructor clapped his hands. "Sparring partners! Pair up!"

The soldiers quickly matched with one another, until only Kyle remained unpaired.

"Tch. No partner for you, huh?"

The instructor muttered, scratching his beard.

"I don't mind waiting."

Kyle offered, but the man waved him over.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'll spar with you myself. Let's see if you're even worth training." fгeewebnovёl.com

The soldiers circled around, curious now. It wasn't often that Instructor Darnel took to the ring himself, and even less so for a new face.

Whispers spread as Kyle stepped onto the dirt floor.

"Who is he?"

"New recruit?"

"He doesn't move like a rookie…"

Kyle took his stance quietly, hands relaxed and feet grounded.

Instructor Darnel rushed in with a testing jab, expecting a clumsy block.

But Kyle's hand moved like water—parrying the jab, slipping to the side, and landing a soft tap on the man's side before stepping back.

It was clean. Controlled. Almost effortless.

The crowd stilled.

Darnel frowned, now moving more seriously. He launched a flurry of attacks—high feints, low sweeps, a heavy strike aimed at the shoulder.

Kyle danced through it, his movements light but efficient. Then, with a single pivot, he caught Darnel off balance and sent the man to the ground with a clean shoulder throw.

Silence.

Darnel lay flat for a moment, then sat up and glared at Kyle.

"You—! You're not some green rookie!"

Kyle smiled politely.

"I never said I was."

"Then who are you?"

The man demanded, rubbing his back.

Before Kyle could answer, someone from the watching crowd muttered.

"I think that's the noble lady's escort… the one who came with Lady Rose."

Darnel's frown deepened.

"You're the commander we were promised, aren't you?"

Kyle simply shrugged.

"Seems I've been found out."

The soldiers exchanged looks—some surprised, some amused, a few clearly impressed.

"Well, next time, try not to sneak into training like some stray mutt. You've got good form, I'll give you that."

Darnel muttered, climbing to his feet and brushing himself off.

Kyle chuckled

"Consider it a warm-up."

Murmurs spread like wildfire through the training ground.

"That's a noble?"

"A commander?"

"Why would someone like that be drilling with us?"

Unease crept into the ranks. The realization that they had unknowingly sparred and trained alongside a high-ranking noble made many shift uncomfortably.

They worried if they had been too casual, or worse, disrespectful.

Some whispered that he was testing them. Others thought this might be a trap.

Kyle, sensing the growing unrest, raised his hand to address the gathering soldiers.

His tone remained calm and collected, but it carried just enough weight to quiet the whispers.

"I see I've caused a bit of confusion. Let me clear things up."

He said, stepping forward.

He swept his gaze across the gathered men—many still holding wooden training swords, their brows furrowed in uncertainty.

"I didn't join you today to mock you or to test your loyalty. I joined to understand your strengths and weaknesses. To see the kind of people I'll be fighting beside. I needed to know how best to utilize your talents… and how best to keep you alive."

The words hung in the air.

"You'll find I don't sit in the back and bark orders. I lead from the front. And to do that, I have to know each of you has my back, just as I'll have yours."

A few soldiers blinked, glancing at each other.

Kyle continued.

"If I'm going to command you into battle, then I need to know what you can do—not from reports or numbers, but from standing beside you."

Some still looked unsure, but the tension was beginning to ease.

"I can't promise that no one will die. This is war. But what I can promise is that while I am here, I will do everything in my power to minimize the cost. I'll treat every life as if it matters—because it does."

The soldiers were quiet for a moment, processing the speech.

It was strange, almost surreal, to hear such words from a noble.

Most commanders they'd seen barked orders from afar, treating soldiers like disposable tools. Kyle's approach was… alien.

"To be honest, I've never heard of a commander going undercover to spar with grunts"

One soldier finally muttered, scratching the back of his head.

There were a few chuckles, though still laced with awkwardness.

"Seems like lip service. But I'd rather have a commander who says that than one who doesn't say anything at all."

Another added warily.

A few heads nodded in agreement.

While suspicion still lingered, Kyle's words had cracked the initial tension.

The soldiers weren't fully convinced, but something about his presence and sincerity made them want to believe. And in war, sometimes a sliver of belief was all it took.