Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent-Chapter 150 - Ch 150 Killing him is not easy - Part 2
150: Ch 150: Killing him is not easy – Part 2
150: Ch 150: Killing him is not easy – Part 2
Kyle stood a few steps away from the frozen assassin, gazing at him with a quiet calm that somehow weighed heavier than anger or ridicule.
With an almost casual tone, Kyle asked.
“Can you move anymore?
Or is this the end for you?”
The assassin gritted his teeth.
He wanted to move—desperately.
He commanded his arms, his legs, even a twitch of a finger.
But nothing obeyed.
His pride screamed at him to fight back, but his body remained stubbornly frozen in place, pinned by the crushing pressure Kyle had casually unleashed.
For the first time in a long while, he understood something he had never truly felt before—fear.
Kyle let out a soft sigh, as if disappointed.
Without giving the assassin another glance, he turned his back and started walking down the line of other mercenaries, his focus already shifting to the next candidate.
That small gesture, that utter disregard, felt like a slap to the assassin’s pride.
‘I am an A-class assassin…!’
The thought burned in his mind.
‘I am not someone to be ignored like this!’
If word got out that he had been humiliated like this, his entire reputation would be shredded to pieces.
The assassin grit his teeth until his gums ached, and with a roar inside his heart, he shattered the invisible shackles binding him.
His body moved at last, his muscles screaming in protest, but he moved nonetheless.
In a fluid, practiced motion, he lunged at Kyle’s exposed back, his mana-coated knife gleaming with deadly intent.
He struck true.
The tip of the blade connected—and then stopped.
The assassin felt it the moment it happened: his knife had hit something…
and refused to go any deeper.
The dust kicked up by his sudden movement settled around them, and he realized that all the other mercenaries had moved instinctively, trying to reach him.
But none had been fast enough to stop him.
Yet, standing unharmed, Kyle slowly turned to face him.
The assassin stared in disbelief at the place where his knife should have pierced flesh.
Instead, it had embedded slightly into something invisible and unbreakable around Kyle, like stabbing into a slab of indestructible steel.
Then—with a faint sound—the blade cracked.
It splintered down the middle and snapped, the pieces falling harmlessly to the ground.
There was not a single drop of blood.
Not even a scratch on Kyle’s clothing.
“You’ll have to train a lot harder if you want to hurt me.”
Kyle said lightly, his tone so casual that it stung far worse than mockery.
The assassin staggered back, finally realizing how large the gap between them truly was.
He had thought himself invincible, one of the best.
But compared to Kyle Armstrong…
he was no better than a child swinging a wooden stick.
The assassin dropped to one knee and bowed his head low.
“I surrender.
I have never seen anyone like you in my life, Young Master Kyle.
I wish to dedicate my life to pursuing the power you possess.”
He said hoarsely, voice thick with raw emotion.
The watching mercenaries muttered amongst themselves, but none mocked him.
After seeing what Kyle had just done, they understood too—the assassin’s decision was not cowardice, but wisdom.
Kyle studied the man with a neutral expression before speaking.
“Be warned.
It won’t be easy.
I expect loyalty, and you’ll need to start from the beginning like everyone else.”
The assassin lifted his head slightly, his expression firm.
“I don’t care.
I am prepared to take on whatever challenge you present, no matter how harsh.”
He said, his voice steady and filled with resolve.
Kyle nodded once, almost approvingly.
“Good.
Then prove it.
Give me all the information you have regarding this issue.”
With Queen perched silently on his shoulder, observing everything with its sharp, calculating eyes, Kyle moved to address the rest of the candidates.
Meanwhile, the assassin, who had once come with intentions of murder, knelt humbly among the rest, ready to rebuild himself from the ground up under Kyle’s command.
Once the assassin was dealt with, Kyle turned to the rest of the elites.
“What’s your plan?
Are you thinking of hurting me as well?
Or, would you take me seriously?”
He asked, his voice calm and steady.
The experts exchanged uneasy glances.
None of them moved, clearly hesitant to face Kyle after what they had just seen.
The silence dragged on until Garret, the oldest and most experienced of them, finally sighed.
He stepped forward, his eyes locked on Kyle.
“I’ll take you on.
But don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you’re young.”
Garret said firmly.
Kyle didn’t respond.
His attention stayed on Garret, studying the older man with a focused gaze.
Garret wasted no time.
He swung his sword at Kyle with a powerful, fast strike.
But Kyle didn’t flinch.
He simply sidestepped the attack, letting it pass by harmlessly.
The other experts watched closely, a few of the younger ones muttering to each other.
“He’s too arrogant.
Garret’s a legend.
That noble won’t last long.”
One whispered.
But Kyle didn’t seem to care about their words.
Garret swung again, faster this time, trying to overwhelm Kyle.
But Kyle moved quickly, dodging each strike and finding small openings in Garret’s defense.
Garret began to realize this wouldn’t be as easy as he had hoped.
He kept attacking, but each time he swung, Kyle was already out of the way.
Garret’s breath grew heavier as he pushed harder, trying to land a hit.
The younger experts grew silent, watching in disbelief.
Kyle wasn’t struggling at all.
His movements were smooth, precise, and fast—too fast for Garret to keep up with.
They had expected Kyle to falter, to make mistakes, but instead, he seemed to be in full control.
A few of the younger experts who had been criticizing Kyle for being rude to Garret now found themselves speechless.
They had underestimated him completely.
Garret’s attacks grew more desperate, his strikes becoming wilder.
He was tiring, and Kyle knew it.
With each swing, Garret’s strength faded just a little more.
Kyle’s movements remained steady, never rushing, always finding the right moment to strike back.
At last, Garret slowed.
His sword felt heavy in his hands, his breath ragged.
He knew he was losing.
Kyle hadn’t even broken a sweat.
“I can’t keep up.
You win.”
Garret muttered, lowering his sword.
Kyle gave a simple nod, not saying anything in return.
The fight was over.
The other experts were stunned.
They had expected Garret, a seasoned warrior, to easily overpower Kyle.
But now, it was clear that Kyle was far stronger than they had imagined.
Garret stood there, catching his breath, still processing what had just happened.
He had been outmatched by someone far younger, someone he had thought was just a noble with no real strength.
But Kyle had proved him wrong.
Kyle turned and began to walk away, his back straight and his eyes focused ahead.
The elites watched him go, still in shock.
Queen, perched nearby, watched quietly, as always, its sharp eyes never leaving the scene.
And just like that, the tension faded.
The fight had ended.
But Kyle’s reputation had just grown stronger, and the experts now knew not to underestimate him again.
