Reborn with my SSS-Class Innate Talent

The village was lively, with the chatter of merchants and the rhythmic sounds of craftsmen filling the air. 

Kyle walked at a steady pace, blending into the crowd as he observed everything around him. 

He noted the layout of the streets, the placement of guards, and the unspoken tension in the way the villagers interacted with those in power.

But just as he was about to move toward the marketplace, his eyes locked onto a familiar face.

The leader of The Ashen Blades.

The moment their gazes met, the man visibly flinched.

Kyle's sharp, unreadable stare seemed to shake him to his core, and before Kyle could even decide whether to acknowledge him, the leader snapped his head away, pretending as if he had not seen him.

Kyle smirked. 

"Smart choice."

He had no interest in dealing with The Ashen Blades again—not unless they decided to cross him once more.

However, before Kyle could continue on his way, a loud voice rang through the marketplace.

"Oi, isn't that the useless Armstrong?"

Kyle slowed his steps, turning his gaze toward the source of the voice.

It was a different member of The Ashen Blades.

A man Kyle did not recognize—someone who hadn't been present during their last… 'encounter.'

The loud-mouthed mercenary grinned, nudging his leader.

"Boss, isn't this the perfect opportunity? If we snatch him now, his family will be forced to pay a fortune to get him back!"

Kyle raised an eyebrow, mildly entertained.

So this man wasn't aware of what had happened before.

But the leader knew.

His face twisted with something between fear and frustration, and before the fool beside him could continue, he snapped.

"Shut your damn mouth! You absolute idiot, do you have any idea what you're talking about?!" 

The leader delivered a brutal backhand to his subordinate, making him stumble. 

The loud-mouthed mercenary looked stunned.

Then angry.

He straightened, rubbing his bruised cheek before glaring at his leader.

"What the hell was that for? Don't tell me you're scared of this 'useless' noble? You think I'm some weak fool? I'll show you how it's done!" 

He demanded. 

Kyle's amusement deepened.

The leader of The Ashen Blades tensed, panic flickering in his eyes as he saw Kyle looking directly at him.

Kyle gave him an expectant smirk.

The leader looked away.

The foolish mercenary, unaware of the strange tension between his boss and Kyle, stepped forward boldly, cracking his knuckles.

"Listen up, noble brat! I'm gonna show my boss why I deserve a bigger cut than him. So how about you make this fun for me?"

He sneered. 

Kyle exhaled a quiet sigh.

"I'd rather not."

The mercenary scoffed.

"Oh, you don't have a choice."

Then, without warning, he lunged.

It was fast—for a normal person.

But for Kyle? It was painfully slow.

The moment the mercenary stepped into Kyle's range, Kyle casually gathered mana in his palm.

And released it.

A blast of concentrated force struck the man head-on.

There was no room for reaction. No room for resistance.

The attack overwhelmed his body instantly, sending him crashing backward with a violent impact that shook the ground.

A sharp gasp rippled through the crowd as people stopped in their tracks, watching the scene unfold in stunned silence.

The mercenary—who had been boasting mere seconds ago—was now unconscious, sprawled out on the ground with not a single sign of movement.

Kyle stretched his fingers idly, glancing toward the leader of The Ashen Blades, who was now completely frozen in place.

Kyle tilted his head.

"Is he someone you know?" 

He asked, tone light.

The leader visibly paled.

His eyes darted to his fallen subordinate, then back to Kyle.

Then, without hesitation, he took a step back.

"I—I have no idea who that fool is."

Kyle raised an eyebrow.

"Really? He seemed pretty confident you were his boss."

The leader laughed nervously, shaking his head.

"N-Nope, never seen him before in my life. Just some… some random idiot."

Without waiting for further questioning, he turned and bolted, abandoning his so-called 'ally' without a second thought.

Kyle chuckled.

"Coward."

The watching crowd slowly began murmuring amongst themselves, some still in disbelief at what they had just seen.

Kyle ignored them.

Instead, he turned his gaze toward the unconscious fool at his feet.

Then, with a calm indifference, he stepped around the body and continued on his way.

If the man lived, he lived. If he didn't, he didn't.

Kyle wasn't concerned either way.

______

As Kyle walked away, the village buzzed with hushed whispers and excited murmurs. The people who had witnessed the incident couldn't help but exchange wide-eyed glances, their voices rising in speculation.

"Did you see that? The useless Armstrong brat just crushed that mercenary like it was nothing!" 

One villager whispered. 

"That can't be right. Wasn't he weak before? Maybe he's been hiding his strength all this time."

"No way! It's like he's a completely different person today!"

Rumors spread like wildfire, twisting and growing with every passing second. 

Some villagers believed Kyle had always been a hidden genius, while others were convinced that some miracle had transformed him overnight.

Meanwhile, the leader of The Ashen Blades was not as eager to gossip.

With his heart still hammering in his chest, he turned to his remaining subordinates and barked out a sharp order.

"Get him up. Now. And find a damn doctor before he bleeds out!"

His men did not hesitate.

Two of them rushed forward, hastily lifting their fallen comrade's limp body and dragging him away. 

Blood stained the dirt path as they hurried toward the nearest physician.

The leader wiped the cold sweat from his brow, cursing under his breath.

"That bastard... what the hell is he?"

He had seen plenty of monsters in his time—but never one hiding in plain sight. 

"Kyle Armstrong, that bastard. Just when did he gain all this power? Tsk, if only I knew…I would have never made an enemy out of him."

The leader whispered as he watched his subordinate be carried away by others.