Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent

The ground split beneath Kyle's feet as the world tree surged with fury, lashing its roots toward Silvy's fleeing figure.

Without hesitation, Kyle stepped in, his sword a blur of motion as it cleaved through the snapping vines.

Mana flared around him like a burning shield, forcing the divine tree's attack to halt. Silvy turned once, eyes wide with horror, before Kyle shouted,

"Go! I've got this!"

From his shoulder, Lysander hissed low, a gleam of hunger in its eyes. The dragon leapt into the air and began to devour the leaking divine mana spilling from the wounded tree.

The world tree recoiled slightly, almost in pain—or perhaps in offense. Kyle glanced up at Lysander with a stern frown.

"Easy now. That stuff's tainted. Eat too much and you'll end up sick."

He warned.

Lysander let out a grumble but slowed its pace, nibbling reluctantly at the mana that seeped like blood from the roots.

The tree, in turn, trembled in fury, its massive limbs creaking like thunder as it focused its attention back on Kyle. The divine presence it held seemed to waver with irritation.

Kyle narrowed his eyes, planting his sword in the ground as he channeled more of his mana into the earth, forming a barrier of light to protect himself.

The divine tree struck again, its rage manifesting as sharp lashes of golden vines infused with celestial energy.

Kyle met them head-on, blocking each blow with precision, the force of the impact sending tremors through the soil.

"You really don't like being ignored, do you? Too bad. You'll have to get used to it."

Kyle muttered.

A bellowing cry escaped from deep within the tree.

The sacred branches twisted and darkened with fury, divine mana gathering at its core like a growing storm. Kyle raised an eyebrow, tightening his grip.

"So what's next? Gonna send another illusion? Maybe puppeteer a corpse? Or is your master finally ready to stop hiding behind a tree?"

His voice cut through the divine silence like a blade. For a moment, the tree paused—its anger mounting with a visible tremor of indignation.

"Come on. What kind of god hides behind bark and roots? Show yourself already. Or are you that much of a coward?"

Kyle taunted, stepping closer.

The divine energy spiraled violently. Then, with a thunderous crack, the tree convulsed.

Glowing fractures ran up its trunk, and a scream—not of wood, but of something ancient and wrathful—split the air. The tree shattered, its divine aura exploding outward like shards of starlight.

From the crumbling trunk emerged a figure—not human, but not beast either.

The being floated above the ruined roots, radiating power. Symbols glowed across its skin, divine and terrifying. Its eyes blazed with celestial fire as it glared at Kyle.

"You foolish mortal. You dare stand against divine will?"

The being said, its voice echoing as if layered over time itself.

Kyle lifted his sword again, eyes sharp.

"And you're the coward hiding behind the tree, I presume?"

"I am Moras. Warden of the Tree of Revelation. Herald of the True Will. Your resistance ends here."

The being declared, as divine light pulsed from the symbols etched into its skin.

Kyle gave a mocking shrug.

"You must've mistaken me for someone who listens to threats."

Moras' glowing gaze narrowed.

"This is your last chance. Leave now, mortal. Submit, and I may spare what remains of this village. But if you defy me—"

Kyle interrupted him with a scoff.

"I've heard enough."

Behind him, Lysander growled low, curling defensively around the shattered remains of the tree. The young dragon's scales shimmered with absorbed divine mana, and its eyes locked on Moras with primal warning.

Moras clenched his fist.

"Then so be it. Your arrogance shall be your undoing."

Kyle took a step forward, fire burning in his gaze.

"No, Moras. It's your delusion that ends today."

As the winds howled and divine power surged through the clearing, god and mortal stood face to face—one battle-worn but unshaken, the other divinely adorned but burning with humiliation.

And above them, the broken remains of the elf tree whispered no more.

Kyle stood tall amidst the ruined grove, his clothes torn and bloodied, his mana surging in defiance of the divine presence looming before him.

He leveled his sword at Moras, the god who had descended through the elf tree, and spoke with unwavering resolve.

"If I were the kind of man who backed down in the face of danger. I wouldn't have started this fight in the first place."

Kyle said.

Moras's eyes flared with divine light.

"Arrogant mortal!"

With a snarl, he raised his glowing spear and hurled himself at Kyle with blinding speed. The first strike came like a bolt of lightning.

Kyle barely braced in time, his sword catching the blow in a shower of sparks and golden energy.

The impact pushed him back, feet digging into the earth.

Before he could fully recover, Moras was already upon him again, his spear thrusting forward with merciless precision.

Kyle ducked under the second strike, twisting his blade up and forcing the god to retreat a step. But a grim thought settled in his mind.

'He's getting stronger.'

Every clash sent out shockwaves of divine mana. Kyle narrowed his eyes, observing Moras's movements—too fluid, too empowered.

His vitality was climbing rapidly. That kind of power didn't just come from faith or strength—it was being fed from somewhere.

Kyle leapt back and circled wide, keeping his blade up.

"You're feeding off the elves. Their vitality fuels you."

He said, his voice accusing.

Moras paused, an irritated snarl crossing his face.

"I do not require their vitality to fight you, mortal. I merely need it to remain anchored in this realm. It is a necessary offering for my divine descent."

Kyle scoffed, eyes sharp.

"Same thing. You're weak. You can't even exist in this world without draining others to do it. That's not divinity—it's dependency."

Moras let out a roar of rage and charged again, spear spinning like a cyclone. Kyle met him head-on.

The ground cracked beneath their feet as mana and divine energy collided in a thunderous shockwave.

Neither side relented.

Each strike carried weight, each movement was lethal.

Sparks and wind spiraled around them, painting the battlefield in flashes of silver and gold. Kyle's blade danced, guided by instinct and precision.

Moras countered with divine strength, every blow aimed to kill.

Still, Kyle refused to break.

The god growled as the battle dragged on longer than expected. His breath grew heavier, and for the first time, there was hesitation in his strikes.

"What are you? You are no ordinary human. You should've fallen by now."

Moras demanded, stepping back for a moment, his eyes narrowing.

Kyle wiped blood from the corner of his mouth and let out a short laugh.

"Does it matter?"

Moras's frown deepened.

"Answer me, creature. Are you of this world, or something else? Are you god-touched, or something worse?"

Kyle grinned.

"What I am doesn't matter. What matters is what I'm doing—and that's putting an end to you."

Moras raised his spear, trembling with fury, the divine markings on his skin glowing even brighter now.

"You cannot win. This world belongs to gods. To beings beyond you."

Kyle stepped forward, unshaken.

"Then I'll break your hold on it. I'll sever your link to the elves and return you to whatever cowardly throne you crawled from."

Moras surged forward with another roar, but this time Kyle didn't step back.

His blade met the spear in a brilliant clash of light, and the earth beneath them gave way. As they fought, the wind screamed, trees fell, and the very air shimmered under the weight of their powers.

Yet neither side yielded.

Kyle's sword glowed brighter, fed by Lysander's shared mana, by his own burning resolve, and by the desire to protect—not to conquer, like Moras. Kyle fought not for power, but to free.

And as Moras's strikes slowed ever so slightly, doubt entered the god's eyes.

Kyle grinned, the heat of battle burning in his chest.

"Let's see which of us falls first, Moras. The god propped up by stolen life… or the man who refuses to bend."