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Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent-Chapter 129: Ch : Here to Check - Part 1
As soon as the clock struck eleven, a soft chime echoed through the mansion's quiet halls.
Kyle rose from his bed, eyes sharp and alert. His steps were silent as he approached the door, one hand pressing lightly against the wooden surface.
He closed his eyes for a moment, reaching out with his mana.
There were people on the other side—masked presences, subtle but undeniable.
Kyle's eyes snapped open.
He flung the door open with a swift motion just as a figure lunged toward him. Dressed like a servant, the attacker was fast.
But Kyle was faster. He ducked under the swing of a concealed blade and slammed a palm into the attacker's side, flooding them with mana to paralyze their limbs.
Two more came from either side. Kyle didn't hesitate.
He spun, sweeping one off their feet with a low kick before sending a pulse of mana into the air.
The second attacker froze mid-motion, held down by a sudden spike of pressure that pinned them to the ground.
It was over in seconds.
Kyle stood over the subdued servants, calm and focused. He could feel the tainted mana flowing through their systems—unnatural and invasive. They had been controlled.
His senses twitched again. Doors creaked open ever so slightly from down the hall.
He turned his head, voice low but firm.
"Silvy. Bruce. Do not open your doors."
There was a pause. Then, slowly, the mana signatures behind the doors eased back. They had listened.
Good.
With the distraction gone, Kyle returned his attention to the servants. He knelt beside one, checking their pulse and mana state. Still alive, but deeply affected.
"They won't even remember this. Looks like they're just puppets."
He muttered to himself, eyes narrowing.
Whatever spell had been placed on them was thorough—well-constructed and designed to blend in.
Kyle could feel it unraveling the deeper he looked, as if it were prepared to self-destruct the moment it was discovered.
It was the same signature he'd felt before.
Kyle's jaw clenched.
Tonight was only the beginning. He straightened, eyes scanning the hall one more time.
Let them come. He was ready.
Kyle moved quickly and silently through the halls, dragging the unconscious servants one by one.
He made sure to keep his presence hidden from any wandering eyes, just in case there were still others under the queen's influence.
The only room he had left open and prepared for such a situation was at the far end of the hallway—bare, reinforced, and warded with mana seals.
He placed them inside, laid them out on the ground, and locked the door from the outside with a flick of his hand, weaving a mana barrier around the frame to make sure they wouldn't leave until he allowed it.
He let out a breath and turned back. One problem dealt with—for now.
The next morning, the mansion was filled with confused murmurs and groggy movement.
The servants Kyle had subdued began waking up one after another, groaning and holding their heads or shoulders. Their limbs ached, and several had bruises they couldn't explain.
"What... what happened last night?"
"I was in my room, and then... I don't know."
"Why were we all in the same place?"
No one had any answers.
The more they tried to remember, the more the details slipped away like water through their fingers.
Something had happened—something unnatural. But no one could recall what had happened.
By the time morning work began, the servants were quieter than usual.
No one laughed, no one chatted. Their gazes dropped to the floor whenever the Margrave passed.
Margrave Ricca noticed it immediately.
When she entered the hall, several servants flinched and looked away, pretending to be busy with menial tasks. The atmosphere was thick with discomfort.
She stopped in the middle of the hallway and looked at them all.
"Well, did you enjoy your little party?"
She said calmly
The silence was absolute.
No one dared to speak. One of the younger servants gripped the edge of a tray so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Seeing their terrified expressions, Ricca sighed and crossed its arms.
"You were under a spell. It wasn't your fault."
She said, not unkindly.
Several heads shot up in surprise. A few looked as if they might cry.
"Someone used mana to control you. That's why you don't remember anything."
She continued.
"But... then...what did we do?"
One servant managed to whisper.
Ricca shook its head.
"Nothing that can't be forgiven."
The staff looked visibly shaken, but Ricca raised a hand.
"There's no need to panic. My guest and his subordinates are handling everything. They're stronger than they look. So you may return to your duties as usual."
She added.
The reassurance helped—somewhat. But even as they returned to work, the servants couldn't shake the lingering fear.
______
While the Margrave was busy reassuring its staff within the mansion, Kyle walked calmly through the heart of the village.
His long skirt trailed just above the dust-laced ground, each step measured with the delicate precision of someone used to playing roles far from his own.
Draped in the attire of Margrave Ricca's beloved niece, Kyle carried himself like nobility, the parasol over his shoulder adding an extra touch of grace to the illusion.
Behind him, Bruce, Melissa, and Silvy followed at a respectful distance—though all three looked increasingly uncomfortable with the sight before them.
"Why does he look so natural in that dress?"
Bruce muttered under his breath.
Melissa crossed her arms.
"I don't like this at all. Why is our young master pulling it off better than any noble lady I've met?"
Silvy, usually more reserved, let out a sigh.
"I didn't recognize him at first... and even now, I keep forgetting it's him."
"I know, right? It's disturbing."
Bruce shook his head.
Kyle, of course, heard everything.
Their whispers were hardly subtle. But he didn't respond.
He kept his head high, ignoring their complaints as he focused his mana outward, searching for a familiar trace.
The herb seller.
The man hadn't shown up at the usual trading point that morning, and that alone was suspicious enough. But Kyle had already expected that.
The real game was just beginning.
He followed the mana trail to a small, crooked building near the edge of the village—part storehouse, part home.
Without breaking stride, he raised a delicate-gloved hand and knocked sharply on the door.
No answer.
Kyle narrowed his eyes and let out a soft, practiced sigh. "How rude."
Then he kicked the door open.
The lock shattered inward, and the wooden door flew back with a loud bang. Dust flew up in clouds, startling a few nearby birds from the roof.
Inside, hurried footsteps echoed across the wooden floor. The herb seller rushed into the front of the shop, his eyes wide and disbelieving when they landed on Kyle.
"M-Margrave Ricca's niece...?"
He stammered the words, his face pale, sweat already forming on his brow.
Kyle offered him a sweet, noble smile—the kind that could freeze bone.
"Ah, you're here. I was starting to think you ran away."
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Behind him, Bruce and Melissa stepped in, each taking a position at the door. Silvy lingered near the threshold, her gaze flicking warily between Kyle and the herb master.
The trap had been sprung.