Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent-Chapter 205: Ch : All up in Flames- Part 3

Chapter 205: Ch 205: All up in Flames- Part 3

Kyle’s mana flared slightly, just enough to send a shiver through the room.

“Someone destroyed something that belonged to me. And I don’t let those things go unanswered.”

He said calmly.

He walked toward the door, his presence colder and sharper than before.

And in that moment, Racheal knew—

Whatever force had burned her home and nearly killed her brother was about to learn what it truly meant to provoke Kyle Armstrong.

______

Inside the local tavern, laughter echoed off the old stone walls as the scent of roasted meat and stale ale hung thick in the air.

Candles flickered on the wooden tables, casting dancing shadows over flushed faces and clinking mugs.

It was a lively evening—more than usual. Patrons chattered freely, eating and drinking like nothing in the world could go wrong.

At a table near the center, a particularly rowdy group of men and women were celebrating noisily.

One of them, a heavyset man with a booming voice, slammed his mug down and bellowed with a grin.

“To ridding this town of that damn witch! May the academy shower us in gold!”

The table erupted into cheers, mugs raised high. Another man, younger and leaner, leaned forward with a smirk.

“Did you see her house go up in flames? Ha! That’ll teach her to defy the academy! She was warned. Again and again. But she just wouldn’t stop messing with ruins like she was one of them!”

“She always thought she was better than us. Always with her nose in old scrolls, acting like some prodigy. Please. Just a delusional brat.”

A woman chimed in, sneering.

“And that brother of hers. Always skulking around, hiding like a rat. Bet he cried like a baby when it happened. He got what was coming.”

Another added, voice darkening.

They all laughed, tipping back their drinks in shared amusement, enjoying the imaginary scene of their victims’ suffering.

The tavern hummed around them—until the door creaked open.

None of them looked at first.

But they all felt it.

A cold, sharp tension sliced through the room like a knife. Conversations quieted. Heads turned. The air grew heavy.

Footsteps echoed—measured, slow, deliberate. The stranger was tall, dressed in elegant dark layers that spoke of nobility.

A faint shimmer of mana clung to him like a second skin, subtle yet suffocating to anyone attuned.

He didn’t say a word as he walked toward the laughing group and pulled a chair beside them. freēnovelkiss.com

The chair scraped softly against the wooden floor before he sat down, resting one gloved hand on the table.

The group looked up, startled but intrigued.

A noble?

Here?

“Evening. Care to join us for a drink, sir? You look like someone who appreciates a good story.”

The heavyset man said, forcing a grin.

The stranger smiled faintly, but his eyes were cold.

“I’m not here for drinks. I came because I heard a group of people took down a ‘witch’ today.”

The group chuckled, pleased with the recognition.

“That’s us! Taught that little ruin freak a lesson she won’t forget. Didn’t even need to wait for the academy’s approval. She was asking for it!”

One of them said proudly.

“Yeah. It was too easy. She wasn’t even home when we did it. House went up like dry wood. Shame we didn’t catch her inside, but her brother took the heat for her.”

The younger man added. He laughed at his own cruel joke.

They expected the noble to smile. To toast them. To reward them.

Instead, the man sighed softly.

“I see. So you really were the ones.”

He said, and pushed his chair back with an almost lazy movement.

The table blinked in confusion.

“Uh… yeah? Why?”

The man stood, brushing off his coat as he looked down at them.

“You decided to mess with the wrong people. And now you’ll pay for it—with your lives.”

He said quietly.

For a moment, there was silence. Then laughter.

“Ha! Is that a threat?”

One of them asked, scoffing.

The next instant, mana exploded across the tavern like a wave crashing into the shore.

Tables shattered. Mugs burst. The air itself crackled with raw energy. Every candle went out at once, plunging the room into a dark haze lit only by the mana radiating from the stranger’s form.

The laughing stopped. The smug expressions turned to fear.

“W-wait—!”

The heavyset man began.

But Kyle had already moved.

They saw only blurs. A flash of movement. The sound of impact. And one of them was on the ground, writhing, clutching his arm in agony.

Screams followed.

Kyle didn’t bother with questions.

He had heard enough.

These people had hurt what belonged to him. And Kyle Armstrong did not forgive those who broke what was his.

Within seconds, the tavern table was drenched in blood. Limbs twitched.

Eyes went wide in disbelief. The laughter and smug expressions were gone—replaced by silence and horror.

The remaining patrons sat frozen in their seats, staring at the scene with wide eyes, doing their best to pretend they hadn’t seen a thing.

No one dared move. No one dared breathe too loud.

They all turned toward the tavern owner, silently pleading for intervention.

But the man didn’t even flinch. He kept cleaning glasses behind the counter, his expression unreadable.

He had already been paid handsomely by Kyle—and he knew better than to get involved in something that didn’t concern him.

When monsters walk in human skin, wise men look away.

Kyle stood at the edge of the bloodstained table, not even bothering to glance back. His message was clear.

No warning. No mercy. You harm what’s his, you pay the price. With interest.

Once the job was done, he stepped out into the street, vanishing into the shadows like a phantom.

But the whispers began almost instantly.

A noble? A mercenary? A demon?

No one knew, but the story spread.

By nightfall, every corner of the town buzzed with a new name—the man who silenced a tavern with a whisper and left only blood behind.

Back at the house, Kyle returned to find Racheal sitting quietly beside her brother’s bed.

Rin’s chest rose and fell slowly, still unconscious but stable.

Racheal had cleaned his wounds as best she could, though her bandaged arm made the task difficult. Her eyes drifted to the doorway as Kyle entered, her expression unreadable.

He didn’t speak right away, only watching her for a moment before asking.

“Do you feel better now?”

Racheal lowered her eyes.

“I don’t know if ‘better’ is the right word. I still feel sick. I still feel angry. I still want to scream.”

She said softly.

She clenched her fists.

“But… it helps. Knowing that the people who did this to my brother aren’t out there laughing anymore. That they didn’t get away with it. It calms the storm in my chest, even if just a little.”

Kyle nodded, stepping past her and placing his hand lightly over Rin’s chest. His mana pulsed gently, stabilizing the boy further.

“Good. That’s enough for now.”

Kyle said.

He didn’t say more than that. He didn’t need to. Racheal understood.

Revenge didn’t fix everything.

But sometimes, it was the only justice the world allowed.