Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent-Chapter 337: Ch : The Divine Will- Part 5

The attendant standing by the massive offering table looked down at the two carcasses Kyle and Silvy had brought, his face devoid of any sign of approval.

He inspected the kills with a sour frown, lifting one limp paw with two fingers and wrinkling his nose.

"This is... acceptable. The goddess accepts offerings of this quality from commoners. You may proceed into the inner city."

He finally said, voice dripping with disdain.

Without waiting for a response, he gestured sharply toward the arched gates behind him. Kyle gave a polite nod and walked forward, Silvy at his side. Her lips twitched, clearly irritated.

"He made that sound like we brought scraps."

She muttered.

"He was hoping we’d fail. We didn’t"

Kyle replied.

As they entered the inner city, the world changed. Everything was cleaner, brighter, almost too perfect.

The air smelled of incense and roses. Garlands hung between polished white pillars. People walked with fixed, cheerful smiles on their faces, as if nothing in the world could ever go wrong.

And standing at the center of the courtyard was the same cheerful man who’d first spoken to them outside the temple gates.

"Ah! There you are! I had a feeling you would return swiftly. You must truly be favored by the goddess!"

He beamed, rushing forward with arms spread wide.

His eyes sparkled with devotion—or maybe something deeper, more unsettling.

"Only true believers could hunt so swiftly and present an offering. The goddess will be pleased."

Silvy opened her mouth, her expression tightening.

"I’m not—"

But Kyle raised a hand, gently stopping her. His eyes were locked on the towering temple behind the man, where the energy had begun to shift.

A deep, pulsating thrum echoed through the air, as if the very earth had fallen into rhythm with a divine heartbeat.

Light shimmered faintly around the spire of the temple, and a pressure—intangible but heavy—descended upon them.

"She’s waking up."

Kyle said, his tone sharp, eyes narrowed.

Silvy blinked and looked toward the temple.

Now that she was focused, she could feel it too. The divine mana in the air wasn’t just passive—it was gathering, coiling, reacting.

The atmosphere grew heavier by the second, and a low ringing started in her ears.

"The inner chamber. We need to go. Now."

Kyle said quickly, already moving.

The smiling man tilted his head in confusion, clearly not understanding what was happening.

But Kyle didn’t stop to explain. His steps were swift and deliberate, cutting through the crowded square like a knife. Silvy was right behind him, all tension and alertness.

She didn’t ask what Kyle had sensed. She didn’t need to.

Because every part of her instincts screamed the same thing he had already realized—whatever was awakening inside that temple, it wasn’t just a goddess.

It was danger.

______

The grand hall they entered was packed to suffocation.

Bodies pressed against each other shoulder to shoulder, a mass of sweating, murmuring, chanting people, all desperately trying to get closer to the grand altar at the front.

The air was heavy with incense and divine mana, thick enough that even breathing felt like inhaling oil.

People shoved and elbowed and clawed their way forward, fearful they would be left behind, excluded from the miracle they had been promised.

Kyle narrowed his eyes.

"Stay close."

He said to Silvy, but she didn’t answer. Her eyes were already unfocused.

Kyle pushed forward, parting the crowd with firm, controlled movements. It took effort—more than he expected.

The divine aura seemed to weigh down his body, dragging his limbs as if trying to chain him in place. He had to use a sliver of mana just to remain upright and alert.

Silvy stumbled behind him, but he grabbed her wrist, anchoring her to his side. She didn’t protest, but she also didn’t say anything. That silence unsettled him.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally broke through to the front, where they could see the altar clearly.

At the center of the platform, a woman stood—tall, radiant, and unnaturally still.

Her eyes were closed, her arms stretched wide as a swirling mass of golden energy flowed into her body from every direction.

Kyle’s sharp gaze tracked the streams of light. They came not from the sky or heavens, but from the crowd itself.

Every worshipper’s body shimmered faintly. Their life force was being drawn out—softly, subtly—toward the vessel on the altar.

Kyle’s expression darkened.

The woman on the altar—Goddess Charrin’s vessel—was absorbing them all.

No one screamed. No one resisted. They stood in quiet awe, trembling, eyes glazed in a stupor of blissful devotion.

Even those collapsing in the back, bloodless and pale, wore peaceful expressions. They didn’t understand what was happening to them.

Kyle took a step forward. He could end this now.

But before he could move, a hand gripped his arm.

"Don’t interfere..."

Silvy whispered.

Kyle froze.

He turned and looked at her. Her face was blank, her normally sharp eyes clouded with divine haze. Her grip was tight.

"This ceremony cannot be stopped. It’s... sacred."

His heart sank.

Even Silvy had fallen under the influence.

"Silvy. Look at me."

He said, voice low and controlled.

She didn’t blink. Didn’t move.

Kyle’s mana pulsed, reaching out toward her mind.

A defensive reaction rippled through the divine mana—like thorns bristling around her thoughts. It wasn’t possession. Not quite. But her will was being rewritten, moment by moment.

He clenched his jaw. This wasn’t just a ritual.

It was a slow sacrifice. A massacre disguised as devotion.

And now, he had one more person to save.

Tools

Kyle exhaled slowly, steadying himself.

He had seen divine influence before—but never this refined. The mana weaved through Silvy like a fine net, anchoring itself to her thoughts, her emotions.

Her loyalty, her awe, her insecurities—they had all been manipulated to suppress resistance.

"Silvy. You know me. Look at me. Remember who you are."

He said again, firmer now.

Her eyes twitched.

A flicker of confusion. Of hesitation.

He seized it.

"You’re Silvy, daughter of the forest. You challenged me the first time we met. You shot an arrow at my face because I stepped too close to your tree. You said I was suspicious, annoying... and that my smile made you uneasy."

Kyle murmured, stepping closer.

Her grip faltered.

Kyle took her hand in both of his. His mana flared, gentle but insistent, pushing against the divine haze clouding her thoughts.

"You hated my guts. You still do, sometimes."

He whispered with a faint smirk.

Silvy blinked.

For a moment, her eyes cleared—and she gasped. Her body shook as divine mana surged again, trying to reassert control. But now, she fought back.

"Kyle—It hurts."

She croaked, breath trembling.

"I know. Push through it. Just a little more."

He said.

With a cry, she dropped to her knees.

Kyle caught her before she fell completely, holding her close as his mana wrapped around her mind like a protective shell. The divine net frayed. Broke.

Silvy collapsed into his chest, panting. But she was free.

"It was terrifying."

She muttered hoarsely.

Kyle stood—still holding her—and turned his gaze to the altar.

The vessel was reaching the final stage. Her eyes began to open.

The divine presence behind them trembled. The goddess was waking.

Kyle lowered Silvy to the floor.

"Rest. I’ll take care of the rest."

And with that, he walked straight toward the altar—his aura boiling with intent.

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