Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 10

"Brother."

In the secluded room of the main manor where Lady Diela used to live.

Though no one had visited for a long time, the maids still diligently cleaned this small space where Valerian sat alone, lost in thought.

Even after Derek left, he remained seated there for quite some time, organizing his thoughts.

As he did so, Lady Aiselin entered with her handmaids in tow, crossing the manor's corridor.

"The head butler reported that Derek took Diela out of the guest house..."

"...At this hour?"

-'Alright, let's try.'

Derek's resolute expression as he left the room. He seemed to have figured something out.

Late at night when most servants were already asleep.

Valerian felt strangely uneasy.

"I should have the head butler investigate."

"W-well... Derek strictly forbade anyone from following... That's why the report came to me."

"...What exactly is he planning?"

"I... I don't know either..."

Lady Aiselin also wore an anxious expression.

Derek was someone she had sought out and brought here.

Since the Grand Duke of Duplein had granted him full authority, no one could question his methods, but that didn't quell the unease.

However, if extreme measures were truly necessary as the Duke believed... Aiselin had nothing more to say.

"What were you doing in Diela's room?"

"Just organizing my thoughts. Looking at Diela's paintings again after so long."

The canvases filling the room. Diela's last painting.

Though still incomplete with empty spaces around the edges, the painted portions alone showed remarkable skill.

Aiselin closed her eyes softly as she looked at the painting and said:

"I wish Diela would finish her paintings someday. I'd frame them beautifully and hang them in the hall..."

"Indeed."

The two sighed regretfully as they looked at the painting in the deepening night.

- Kwaang!

Even the darkness of night abandoned Diela.

Derek's mana arrows shattered branches as they chased after her, having completely locked onto her position.

- Crack! Snap!

The relentless magical barrage seemed ready to shatter Diela's bones at any moment.

A single hit would be fatal to Diela's fragile body. Knowing this well, Diela clutched her head as she stumbled through the uneven forest path.

"Kyaaaah!"

- Whizz! Kwaang!

As Derek strode closer, Diela scrambled away in the opposite direction.

She climbed over thick tree trunks, slid down dirt slopes, weaved through the forest, ducked under hanging branches, and leaped across streams.

Despite the late hour, she navigated the forest path effortlessly. Diela already knew every inch of this terrain.

The forest's location, the vines that could hinder pursuit, fallen logs and protruding rocks—she had memorized them all.

Derek wasn't surprised. He'd already guessed she'd be familiar with the forest's layout.

The landscape paintings filling her room all depicted areas around the estate.

It wasn't hard to deduce that young Diela had been a girl who played freely in nature around the mansion.

The paintings from Diela's childhood clearly surpassed a child's typical skill level.

She captured the world exactly as she saw it.

Moreover, the numerous bluish brushstrokes in her landscapes were unusual.

The lines coloring the forests, trees, sunsets and streams—sometimes resembling shading, sometimes texture—might have seemed like her unique style to the uninitiated.

But they were actually the flows of magic power the young girl had seen in nature.

The aura of magic permeating the natural world that any Wild School mage would experience. That she could visualize and express them meant she had unconsciously sensed that energy.

──Diela's aptitude leaned more toward the Wild School than the Discipline School.

Derek had sensed this the moment he saw her paintings.

Rather than manifesting magic through discipline and regulations, she felt the magic in all things and utilized it freely. This was the Wild School, sharing much with but also differing greatly from the Discipline School.

This girl had been gifted with the noblest bloodline but unfortunately born with the qualities of a street mage.

While bloodline heavily influences magical ability, the theoretical knowledge used to manifest magic often aligns with individual inclinations. Though most noble children follow the Noble Discipline School, Diela was different.

The girl simply loved the world. She enjoyed playing around the mansion, observing the world and painting as she played.

Even when scolded by servants, she'd climb over walls to explore the forest, sketching small animals in her sketchbook.

She'd hike up her skirts to wade barefoot through streams, lie in grassy fields gazing at the blue sky.

And she preserved all these memories in paintings. She simply loved doing so.

This was where everything began.

Unfortunately, in a world where the Noble Discipline School dominated, she was nothing but a failure.

- Kwaang! Kwaang! Kwaang!

As Derek fired mana arrows to pressure Diela into a corner, she kept escaping by climbing and leaping between trees.

Even in her terror, she racked her brain for survival strategies.

Her blood flow accelerated. Her breathing grew rapid. Her heart pounded wildly.

The undeniable truth that mere escape wouldn't save her tormented her mind.

To survive, she had to fight back.

Using everything at her disposal—if she had nothing, then with bare hands if necessary—she had to resist.

"Haa... haa..."

Gasping for breath, she practically rolled through the underbrush. There was little difference between Derek's steady pursuit and Diela's desperate flight.

Derek was originally a wandering mercenary, always forced to fight in unfamiliar environments.

Even complete familiarity with the forest wouldn't let her shake him off.

- Kwaang!

"Kyaak!"

Another mana arrow grazed past Diela and exploded nearby.

The impact sent her tumbling down a grassy slope. Her already tangled golden hair, mixed with dirt and leaves, became even more disheveled.

- Crunch!

The girl struggled to her feet.

Her neatly styled hair now hung dry and loose over her shoulders. Her lace pajamas were reduced to rags, her fair skin clearly scratched.

Yet she clenched her teeth and stood up.

Beyond the long slope lay deeper parts of the forest.

A large clearing with a single towering zelkova tree standing prominently.

Diela grabbed the tree's trunk and pulled herself up, gasping for air as she forced herself forward step by step.

But her exhausted body refused to move further. Her ragged breathing made even inhaling difficult.

"No energy left to run?"

"...!"

The sound of a sword being shaken clean reached her ears.

Under the brilliant moonlight at midnight's peak, the boy strode toward the girl leaning against the zelkova tree.

Diela's legs gave out as she slowly sank to the ground under Derek's satisfied smile.

Her appearance was pitiful. Her voluminous golden hair was full of leaves and dust, her body covered in mud—she looked no better than a beggar.

Yet magic power flowed through her.

That single fact overflowed warmly in her chest, like molten lava flowing through her esophagus.

"Derek."

The girl called his name. When Derek responded lightly, she blankly stared at the night forest before speaking softly. Though only the back of her head was visible, her quiet words were clear.

"Thank you."

"..."

Leaning his head against the tree, Derek quietly gazed at the stars and thought.

It felt somewhat undeserved to be thanked. Diela had essentially awakened her basic magical abilities herself. Derek had merely created the opportunity for manifestation.

As a child roaming the forest painting landscapes, observing the world, she'd naturally developed the Wild School's instinctive senses.

Her paintings were dismissed as unfinished, her magical studies went nowhere, and she had no other outstanding talents.

If life were a painting, her childhood of unfulfilled efforts might have seemed like meaningless blank spaces.

But as someone from the streets, Derek knew: not every moment of life can be filled.

Whether sitting starving in the slums or spending whole days studying spellbooks alone, those empty spaces in life had always been with him.

Whether they come early or late, such blank spaces inevitably appear in long lives.

Whether losing goals, dreams, family or comrades—periods of emptiness and frustration always come.

With experience and maturity comes the wisdom to endure these voids, to find meaning in them, to accept them as part of life.

But when they come too early, before such wisdom develops, these voids can break people. They make you think this emptiness is all there is. Especially for a young girl like Diela.

Yet, hadn't she already known this when holding a brush before canvases during her wandering days?

Only with these voids included does a painting become complete.

"That sunset painting."

So Derek casually asked:

"Was it your own work?"

"...Why ask that? I put down the brush long ago."

"Just curious."

Diela snorted as if questioning why he'd ask such a thing.

The painting her whole family had looked upon with warm eyes, begging her to complete—to see Diela's fully realized work. Sadly, it was already complete.

After a long silence, Diela finally answered, her head resting on her knees, mumbling:

"It was my masterpiece."

Such is the way of life.

Derek simply joined her in gazing at the moon.

The next morning, the first thing Diela did upon waking was stretch out her palm to channel magic power.

The clearly visible flow of magic confirmed the girl had truly stepped into the world of magic.

However, fully manifesting it still seemed slightly beyond her.

She desperately wanted to try proper magic, but her level remained rudimentary.

-'Starting tomorrow, we'll begin properly learning to manifest magic power. That's the foundation for all star-ranked magic.'

-'How do we do that?'

-'I'll show you tomorrow.'

"..."

Diela propped her chin thoughtfully. Her disheveled hair fell into her eyes, so she blew it away and made a grumpy cat-like face.

Last night, the servants had been shocked when Diela returned to the guest house looking like a beggar. After being bathed by her maids, she'd slept for less than five hours.

The newly risen sun at the window was just driving away the darkness. That Derek fellow was probably still fast asleep in the main house's guest room.

So what was she supposed to do? He was the one who said he'd show her"tomorrow."

From Diela's perspective, tomorrow came when she woke up. If he had a problem with that, he should have specified a time. Her fingers itched to start learning magic manipulation.

Diela climbed out of bed still in her pajamas.

The moment she swung open her door to head into the hallway—

- Thud

"Kyaak!"

A maid fetching more cooking water from the well after Derek emptied it last night tripped and fell.

Not expecting Diela's door to suddenly open, she lost her grip on the water bucket.

- Crash!

- Splash!

The bucket rolled away, soaking Diela's slippers and the hem of her pajamas.

"...."

"L-Lady Diela! I-I'm sorry! So sorry! Please forgive me! Just this once...!"

Diela's icy gaze fell upon the fallen maid.

Head Butler Dellon, who'd been giving instructions to servants in the hallway, rushed over in alarm.

"L-Lady Diela. Are you alright?"

"M-My lady! I'm so sorry! Please forgive me! Just this once...!"

The maid scrambled up, begging forgiveness. Dellon swallowed nervously, already dreading the coming outburst.

She'd clearly beat the maid black and blue—he was already mentally calculating how to handle the reduced staff workload if another servant was dismissed. They were already stretched thin.

But Diela simply looked down at the maid with cold eyes and said:

"Be more careful."

With that icy remark, she briskly walked down the hallway. She needed to call the head maid to change clothes before heading to the main house.

Her steps seemed oddly cheerful, almost like a girl her age excited for an outing.

"..."

"...Huh?"

Dellon and the maid exchanged wide-eyed glances.

This was Diela we were talking about. In a situation where being trampled and beaten wouldn't have been surprising, she'd simply left with a brief remark.

Outsiders might say her attitude was still rude, but to servants who'd worked for Diela half their lives, this was unbelievable.

Just one day after Derek took her hand and led her outside the estate.