Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent
Chapter 261 - 261: Ch 261: The Price of a Life- Part 1

The elf chief stood tall, but the deep weariness in his eyes betrayed the weight of his guilt.

Around him, the elves remained quiet, mourning not just the loss of their sacred tree, but the destruction of everything they had believed in.

Their mana was gone. Their pride was shattered.

"I will do anything if it means saving our people. I have nothing left to offer… but if you find a way, then all that remains of the elves will belong to you."

The chief said at last, turning to Silvy with solemn resolve.

Silvy nodded, but before she could respond, Kyle stepped forward. His expression was unreadable, but his voice was calm and direct.

"I'll help you all. But not without a promise. When this is over, the elves will come under my command. You will follow me."

A ripple of outrage surged through the gathering.

"We are not pets to be owned!"

One elf shouted.

"We are a free race—independent! We will not bend to a human!"

Another added.

Their voices swelled, harsh with the sting of humiliation.

But the elf chief raised his hand once more, and the crowd reluctantly quieted.

"Pride is a luxury we can no longer afford."

He said firmly.

"Look at us. We've lost our mana, our future, our place in the world. If we stay as we are, we will be picked off one by one by the scavengers of this land. Kyle is offering us more than survival. He's offering us a chance to rise again."

"But to serve another—"

One elf began, only to be silenced with a sharp glance from the chief.

"We are not serving. We are surviving. And if we are wise, we may yet thrive. Do you not understand? There is no shame in accepting the hand that saves you."

He said.

Silence followed. The elves didn't like it—none of them did—but the bitter truth had sunk in. There was no other path left.

The chief turned to Kyle.

"You have our vow. Any elf who crosses your path will serve as your ally from this day forward. If you and Silvy save us, then our lives will be tied to yours."

Kyle gave a nod, though there was no satisfaction in his eyes.

"Then let's hope we make it that far."

Silvy stepped beside him, taking in the grim mood. She drew a slow breath and looked to Kyle.

"It's time."

He followed her without question as she led him out of the village and through the whispering woods.

The trees were quiet now—too quiet. Even Queen, the ever-present watcher, seemed to be holding its breath in the wake of the divine presence that had just vanished.

After some distance, Silvy paused and brushed aside overgrown vines to reveal an ancient stone structure hidden beneath the moss.

"The Temple of the Moon God."

She said softly.

Kyle eyed the place. Its pillars were worn, the carvings faded, and though it bore the name of a deity, there was no sense of divinity within.

No pressure in the air. No mana pulsing from its core.

"It's empty."

Kyle murmured.

"I know. No one comes here anymore. The old stories say it used to be a place of miracles. But it's been silent for hundreds of years.""

Silvy replied, brushing her fingers along the cold stone.

Kyle looked at her.

"Then why bring me here?"

"Because, this place wasn't tied to the world tree. It was tied to something older. Maybe even more powerful. I think… I think the elves forgot what it truly was. And maybe, just maybe, there's still something left."

She said, her voice low but certain,

Kyle approached the doorway, his eyes narrowing.

"Even if it's empty… it could still be hiding something."

Silvy nodded.

"If we want to save the elves, we need to dig deeper than our pride and our history. We need to remember what we've forgotten."

As the sun faded behind the trees and the shadows deepened around them, Kyle and Silvy stood before the ancient temple—uncertain of what they would find, but with no other choice but to try.

They stepped inside, into the unknown.

Silvy stepped carefully along the overgrown path, her fingers brushing the vines that clung to the temple's cracked stone.

"Watch your step. This place hasn't been disturbed in centuries. The ground might give way."

She murmured, glancing over her shoulder at Kyle.

Kyle said nothing, his gaze sweeping over the structure with sharp focus.

The closer they came, the heavier the air became—dense with a pressure that wasn't divine, but ancient.

Lysander, curled up protectively at Kyle's side, let out a low growl, the sound reverberating in his throat like a warning.

"He doesn't like this."

Kyle said quietly, placing a hand on the dragon's head to soothe it.

Silvy's brows knit.

"It's not surprising. This temple isn't welcoming. It was never meant to be."

Lysander grumbled again, tail lashing behind him. Then, with a soft snort, he opened his jaws slightly and inhaled.

A faint shimmer lit up near the door—an invisible seal that revealed itself only as Lysander tasted its mana.

The dragon's instincts guided him well; a breath later, the seal cracked, faded, and vanished.

Silvy stared at the now-open entrance.

"Looks like Lysander has a knack for breaking locks," she said softly, though her voice was heavy with unease.

Kyle gave the temple a final glance before stepping through the archway.

"Let's hope it's the only one we need to break."

The inside of the temple was cloaked in shadows, only thin beams of sunlight filtering through the cracked ceiling.

Ancient murals lined the walls—depictions of moons, stars, and figures robed in silver and blue, all centered around a towering tree that bore no resemblance to the one they'd just lost.

"This place…doesn't feel like it was made for worship."

Kyle began, eyes narrowing,

Silvy nodded, her steps slow and reverent as she moved toward the center of the temple.

"That's because it wasn't. This isn't a shrine. It's a safeguard."

Kyle raised a brow.

"A safeguard?"

Silvy turned to him, her expression unusually grave.

"This place was built to make sure the elf race survived, no matter what happened to the tree. We elves always believed the world tree was eternal, but some… didn't share that faith. My family carried stories—warnings—passed down through generations. Stories that said one day the tree would fall, and with it, our power."

She walked to an altar at the heart of the temple and laid her hand on it. It lit faintly beneath her touch, casting a cool, pale glow.

"The temple was meant to activate only if that day came."

Kyle frowned.

"You knew this might happen?"

"I hoped it wouldn't. But my ancestors didn't. They believed it was inevitable. That no power, no god, no prayer could stop what was coming. So they prepared… and tasked our bloodline to remember."

Silvy's voice wavered.

Kyle studied her, his voice quiet.

"You were meant to save the elves."

Silvy hesitated, then nodded.

"Yes. If the tree ever fell, my duty was to find this place and awaken whatever lay within. It's why I knew what to do. Why I knew where to bring you."

A long silence followed, only broken by the low rumble of Lysander behind them.

"And now?"

Kyle asked.

Silvy turned to face him, her eyes clear.

"Now, we find out if what's left in this place is strong enough to save a dying race. Or if all we've inherited… is a tomb."