Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent-Chapter 344: Ch : Deft Fate- Part 1

Goddess Charrin hovered above the battlefield, the divine glow around her radiant and overwhelming.

Her expression was one of triumph, her eyes flashing with cruel amusement as she looked down at the tattered ranks of soldiers below.

"This is the end. No matter how hard you fight, no matter how many sacrifices you make—humans will never win against the divine."

She said, her voice echoing like thunder across the broken plains.

Her hand raised, swirling with the wrath of divine energy, preparing to unleash another attack that would reduce what remained of the resistance to ash.

But then, without warning, the crystal cube she kept at her side began to tremble violently. A sharp ringing sound split the air, too high for mortal ears, and then—

Crack!

A flash of light burst from the cube, followed by a sonic boom that knocked the goddess back. Before she could react, a blade sliced through the air, grazing her throat.

The goddess gasped, stumbling in midair as a thin, red line trailed down her neck.

She clutched her throat in disbelief.

"Blood...?"

She whispered, wide-eyed.

The cube that had imprisoned Kyle shattered completely, falling in glowing shards that vanished before they touched the ground.

From the heart of the explosion, a silhouette stepped out—calm, composed, and blazing with power.

Kyle Armstrong.

His eyes were cold, and his aura thrummed like a storm barely contained. The soldiers below looked up in stunned silence, hope surging in their chests.

Charrin stared at him, incredulous.

"How did you escape already?! That seal was—"

"—sloppy."

Kyle cut her off, his voice hard and clear.

"A sad attempt to twist my mind and force me to submit. You thought illusions of comfort and old regrets would break me? You don’t know me at all."

Goddess Charrin’s brows furrowed, frustration creeping into her divine poise.

"You speak so high of yourself for someone who once stood beside the divine. You act as if you were always a rebel, but it was you who turned your back on us first. You had power. You had purpose. And you threw it away."

She hissed.

Kyle’s eyes narrowed, his grip on his sword tightening.

"You mean I saw through your lies. You call it betrayal, but all I did was choose freedom over servitude."

Charrin’s expression twisted.

"Do not pretend innocence! The worlds fall apart because of your defiance. The harmony we maintained is breaking, and people suffer because of your selfishness!"

"And who taught them to rely on the gods so completely? You built a cage and called it paradise. I’m just tearing down the walls."

Kyle snapped back.

The air around them crackled as the divine and mortal energies collided. Below, the soldiers dared not speak, awestruck by the confrontation playing out above them.

Even the priests, who once sang Charrin’s praises, fell silent in fear.

"You could have ruled by our side. You could have been eternal. Now you will die with the insects you defend."

The goddess said, her voice shaking with rage.

Kyle raised his blade, pointing it directly at her.

"Then I’ll die on my feet, not as a pawn on a leash."

Their eyes locked for one charged moment—divinity against defiance, past against present.

And then, without another word, they lunged at each other.

Below the battlefield, a stunned silence overtook the soldiers and priests alike.

Dust and energy crackled in the air, a scarlet mark of blood still running down Goddess Charrin’s neck as Kyle stood tall and alive before her—no longer trapped, no longer suppressed.

"He’s out..."

Someone whispered.

"He survived the goddess’s seal..."

"No one’s ever done that before—not even in the old legends..."

Gasps and murmurs broke out like wildfire among the people.

Even the loyal priests, who had devoted their entire lives to the goddess, now looked between one another in hesitation and disbelief.

At the frontlines, Grand Duchess Amana’s eyes widened with relief and awe. Her voice rang clear.

"He’s alive... Kyle Armstrong is alive!"

Kyle raised a hand toward his allies, his expression calm but firm.

"Pull back. All of you. I’m not holding back anymore, and anyone who stays might get caught in the crossfire."

"But—"

Melissa started, only for Bruce to grip her shoulder and nod solemnly.

The Grand Duchess didn’t hesitate.

"You heard him! Soldiers, fall back and regroup! Retreat to safe formation!"

The soldiers obeyed, scattering from the cratered battlefield as quickly as their battered legs would carry them.

Meanwhile, the priests looked lost. No divine orders had been given, and their goddess—focused entirely on Kyle—had completely forgotten about them. Some stepped back, confused and afraid.

"What do we do? Do we fight? Do we stay?"

One whispered.

The Grand Priest, narrowing his eyes, snapped.

"Forget the battlefield! Hunt down the retreating soldiers. We must win this war, no matter what form it takes."

The goddess’s arena shrank.

What had been a war between armies had shifted to a duel between divine and defiant. The battlefield cleared, giving space for a clash that would echo through time.

As Kyle watched his people retreat safely, a blast of divine energy roared from above. Goddess Charrin, furious at being ignored, launched a spear of golden light directly at him.

"Pay attention to me, mortal! You dare ignore a god?!"

She shouted, her voice thunderous and echoing like judgment itself.

Kyle spun, slicing the light-spear in half with a single stroke of his blade. Mana and divine power clashed in a brilliant explosion, but Kyle remained unmoved.

Charrin hovered above him, her expression twisted with fury—and a sliver of desperation.

"You are more than a mere man, Kyle Armstrong. You cannot deny it. You’ve surpassed mortality, and your soul resonates like a star. You are more than qualified to become one of us." fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

She said, eyes narrowing.

Her wings spread wide, bathing the battlefield in divine light.

"Take up the mantle. Ascend. Become a god and join us. Why do you keep rejecting what is rightfully yours?"

Kyle looked up at her—at the so-called divine radiance, at the pride in her voice, at the self-justifying cruelty that sat behind her every word.

He pointed his sword toward her.

"Because I despise everything your kind stands for."

The goddess flinched, not from fear, but from the sheer conviction in his voice.

"You don’t offer salvation. You offer chains wrapped in gold. You feed on hope, demand faith without question, and call it devotion. The moment people think for themselves, you call them heretics."

Kyle continued.

Charrin’s brows furrowed.

"They need us. Without divine guidance, they fall into chaos."

"No. They fall because you keep them from learning how to walk on their own."

Kyle said coldly.

Power surged around him.

"I’ll tear down every illusion you and your kind built, and give this world back to those who bleed for it."

The goddess’s expression turned cold, wrathful.

"Then I’ll destroy you with my own hands."

And once again, they charged.

Their clash shook the skies.

Goddess Charrin descended with a roar, divine blades forming in both hands as radiant wings tore through the air.

Kyle met her charge head-on, his own mana igniting around him like a storm of lightning and shadow.

Their strikes collided, creating shockwaves that cracked the earth and split the clouds above.

"You fight like a god, yet still cling to human sentiment."

Charrin spat, fury in her voice.

Kyle’s blade caught hers and pushed back with sheer will.

"I fight because of my humanity. That’s something you’ll never understand."

Their next impact turned the sky ablaze.