Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent-Chapter 131: Ch : It is too late - Part 1

She hesitated. For a second, Kyle saw the temptation flicker in her expression. But she quickly masked it with pride and cool dignity.

"No. You've already done far more than any guest should be expected to. Asking for anything more would be... shameless of me."

She said firmly.

Kyle didn't push the issue. He knew pride when he saw it, and this was about more than just gratitude—it was about image and self-respect.

"Alright then. I'll leave it to you."

Silvy, who had been silently observing from the side, let out a loud yawn and stretched her arms behind her head.

"So, we're done here now, right? That means we can finally leave?"

Kyle gave her a sideways glance.

"Not yet. We still need to deal with the mana ruins around the village."

Silvy groaned.

"Ugh, of course we do…"

He ignored the grumbling and turned back to the Margrave. But before he could speak again, she did.

"You should all stay another day. There's a banquet planned tonight in your honor—for everything you've done. The people need something to lift their spirits after all this."

She said.

Melissa, who had been quietly standing beside Bruce, immediately stepped forward.

"With all due respect, Lady Ricca, we can't stay too long. Our young master needs to return to the Armstrong estate before it gets too late"

She said, her tone polite but firm.

The mention of Armstrong brought an immediate reaction. The Margrave stiffened slightly, her gaze sharpening.

"Armstrong? What… what do you mean?"

She repeated.

Melissa gave a proud smile and, without another word, pulled back her cloak to reveal the insignia of Duke Armstrong's house on her armor.

"I serve as a knight under Duke Armstrong. Our young master here is his second son."

She said smoothly.

she blinked, and her eyes slowly turned toward Kyle, who remained as composed as ever.

The realization dawned gradually across her face—a mixture of surprise and immediate recalculation.

"You're… the second son of Duke Armstrong."

She echoed.

Kyle inclined his head politely.

"Yes."

The Margrave looked utterly stunned.

Her prideful composure wavered for just a moment before returning, but not before everyone in the room had seen it.

She stepped back and gave Kyle a look of newfound respect—one laced with something else, too.

Something sharper. More calculating.

Melissa's smug expression widened just a bit as she watched the change in atmosphere. Bruce, standing slightly behind her, gave a long sigh and shook his head.

He leaned toward Melissa and muttered.

"Was that really necessary?"

"It was absolutely necessary. Someone had to make sure everyone here knew who they were dealing with."

Melissa said under her breath, her tone dripping with satisfaction.

Kyle caught the exchange but didn't comment. Instead, he looked back at the Margrave and said evenly.

"We'll handle the ruins first. Then we'll consider the banquet."

The Margrave nodded quickly.

"Of course. Whatever you need."

She didn't miss the subtle shift in how she now spoke to him—less commanding, more deferential.

The name Armstrong had clearly changed everything. Kyle made a mental note of that.

Behind him, Silvy stared in awe, while Melissa stood with crossed arms, practically glowing with pride.

The room's balance had shifted in an instant, and Kyle knew it. But whether that shift was for better or worse remained to be seen.

Melissa, Silvy, and Bruce followed closely behind him, each with their own thoughts.

The moment they were out of the Margrave's earshot, Kyle slowed his pace and turned slightly to address Melissa directly.

"Melissa."

He said.

The way he said her name made her heart stutter, a slight pink rising to her cheeks as she quickly stepped forward.

Her young master's voice always took her by surprise, making Melissa look forward to hear him speak.

"Y-Yes, young master?"

But Kyle's expression remained neutral.

"Be careful when you mention my identity. We're still in dangerous territory. If anyone with ill intentions hears who I am, they may try to eliminate me before I can act."

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He said plainly.

Realization struck Melissa like a wave.

She had let her pride get the better of her and exposed something he wanted kept quiet. Her eyes widened, and she immediately bowed her head.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think— I won't let it happen again, I swear."

Kyle simply nodded, not unkindly.

"Good. Just be mindful."

Behind them, Silvy rolled her eyes.

"Tch. Getting flustered over a few words."|

She muttered.

Bruce gave a faint chuckle but said nothing.

______

Meanwhile, back in the manor, the Margrave personally escorted the unconscious herb master down the cold stone steps into the dungeon.

The cell at the far end of the hallway was already prepared—reinforced with metal bars and old enchantments.

She shoved the door open and dragged the man inside, binding him with more chains before locking the door behind it.

As she turned to leave, a harsh, guttural sound echoed from behind.

The herb master had regained consciousness, and he was laughing—low at first, then louder, until it bordered on madness.

"You think you've won? This village is already done for. Nothing you do now will change that."

He spat between crazed chuckles.

The Margrave paused, her expression unreadable, but her eyes narrowed in response.

"Let's see about that."

She said coldly, and walked away.

The Margrave ascended the stone steps of the dungeon, the sound of the herb master's eerie muttering fading behind it.

Though the cell door was locked and enchanted, the chill that crept up her spine refused to fade.

There was something in the man's eyes—something too calm, too sure.

As much as she wanted to dismiss his words as the ravings of a desperate criminal, a gnawing unease settled deep in her gut.

She could not shake the feeling that something dangerous was coming, creeping beneath the surface like rot under polished wood.

Pausing at the top of the stairs, she glanced back once, her jaw clenched.

The village was quiet now, but the silence felt wrong.

Off.

With a final sigh, the Margrave strode down the hallway, determined to remain vigilant. Whatever storm was coming, she would not be caught unprepared—no matter how late the warning came.