Reborn with my SSS-Class Innate Talent

Christan stood frozen in place, his eyes flickering between Kyle's calm, unreadable expression and the bloodied mess on the floor. 

The longer he stared, the more a single, uncomfortable thought began to creep into his mind.

Something was different about Kyle.

The useless fool he had known all his life—the weak, cowardly, pathetic younger brother who had never once fought back—was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, standing before him was a figure tall and unshaken, his posture straight, his presence imposing. 

There was no fear in his eyes. No guilt. No remorse.

It was as if Kyle believed, without a doubt, that he had done absolutely nothing wrong.

That realization irritated Christan more than he wanted to admit.

A strange, unfamiliar pressure settled in his chest. It was a sensation he had never experienced before—not when dealing with Kyle, at least.

Annoyance.

Frustration.

And, buried deep within him, an emotion he refused to acknowledge—a faint, creeping sense of intimidation.

But as the eldest son, as the one who was meant to inherit everything, Christan refused to let himself be looked down upon.

Especially by someone as useless as Kyle.

And so, swallowing down the strange unease curling in his gut, Christan straightened his back, forcing a look of stern authority onto his face.

"…Kyle, take these men to be treated at once. And once they are well again, I expect you to apologize to them." 

He said, his tone firm, yet just barely wavering at the edges. 

Kyle's expression didn't change.

He simply tilted his head slightly, studying Christan with something akin to amusement.

Then, in a voice that was calm, clear, and completely indifferent—

"No."

The word was spoken so simply, so effortlessly, that it took Christan a second to fully process it.

And when he did—

A spark of anger ignited in his chest.

"What did you say?" 

His voice dropped, his hands clenching into fists.

"I said no." 

Kyle repeated, his gaze steady, unwavering.

That was the moment Christan snapped.

A surge of heat rose to his face, his pride burning at the blatant disrespect.

"Kyle, I am the eldest son of this family. I outrank you. If you do not listen to me, I will be forced to take… harsh measures." 

He gritted out, his voice low and sharp.

Kyle's lips curved into something almost resembling a smirk.

"Then do it."

That response caught Christan off guard.

For a brief moment, uncertainty flashed in his eyes—as if he had not expected Kyle to actually call his bluff.

Kyle had already seen through him.

Christan was all bark and no bite.

Even now, standing in front of Kyle with his fists clenched, his jaw tight, his body radiating anger—Kyle could tell immediately.

'There was no real power behind him.

He had almost no aura.

His body was underdeveloped.

He had never fought a real battle before.'

All Christan had was authority and authority without power to back it up did not last long. It would not take long before Kyle would be able to rule over this family.

Kyle had already judged the strength of the soldiers in the Armstrong estate.

And frankly—

He was not impressed.

Just as Christan's anger was reaching its peak, just as he looked about ready to lash out—

A presence.

Kyle's sharp senses picked up on it instantly.

His head turned toward the door, his gaze shifting toward the group of figures entering the room.

At the center of them—

A man.

Kyle's eyes locked onto him immediately.

Tall, broad-shouldered, with a commanding presence that set him apart from the rest. Unlike Christan, this man actually carried himself like a warrior. His stance was firm, his aura steady and controlled.

'Still not impressive by my standards. But at the very least... he has a solid foundation.'

Kyle thought, analyzing the man's aura with quick precision. 

The man's sharp gaze swept across the room, taking in the collapsed soldiers, the blood staining the floor, and finally, his two sons standing at the center of the chaos.

His face remained impassive, unreadable.

Then, in a voice filled with authority—

"Christan."

The eldest son immediately straightened, turning toward his father with a strained expression.

"Lord Father. This is his doing. Kyle has been causing trouble again. He—" 

Christan greeted, bowing slightly before quickly gesturing toward Kyle. 

The man—Lord Armstrong—raised a hand.

The room fell silent instantly.

Kyle noted the way even the guards seemed to instinctively shut their mouths, their postures straightening at the mere gesture.

'He holds real authority here. At the very least, he is respected enough that people obey him without hesitation.'

 Kyle thought.

Lord Armstrong then turned to Kyle, his gaze calm but sharp.

"Kyle, explain yourself." 

He said, his deep voice carrying across the room. 

Kyle met his father's eyes, completely unfazed by the weight of his presence.

And then, in the same indifferent tone as before, he shrugged.

"I was just taking out the trash. You don't have to mind me."" 

He said simply. 

A flicker of something passed through Lord Armstrong's eyes—a brief, unreadable emotion.

Before he could say anything, Christan stepped forward again, his face red with anger.

"Stop spewing nonsense, Kyle! Admit what you did—" 

Christan snapped. 

Once again, their father raised a hand.

And once again—

Silence fell.

Kyle remained motionless, watching the exchange with faint interest.

For the first time, he actually felt a tiny bit of amusement at the situation.

Lord Armstrong exhaled slowly before shifting his gaze back toward Kyle.

"Explain further." 

He said.

Kyle considered his words carefully.

Then, without hesitation, he spoke.

"These guards did not check their surroundings. They made a fool of themselves by attempting to humiliate me, despite being nothing more than weaklings. They also allowed dangerous furniture to enter the family dining hall. Do I need to go on?" 

He said, tilting his chin slightly toward the unconscious men.

His voice remained calm, even, measured, yet the words carried a sharp edge of disdain.

"And so, as the son of this family, I was within my right to discipline them. And that… is exactly what I did." 

Kyle continued, his gaze meeting his father's unflinchingly.

The room was silent.

Christan looked like he was about to explode again, but before he could speak—

Lord Armstrong raised his hand one final time.

And that was enough to shut everyone up.