Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 101

"Wh-why did you break the window..."

"Shh."

- Thud, thud

Derek shook off the water and tended to the cuts on his hands before peering out through the shattered window again.

Rain was pouring outside, and an even deeper darkness veiled the scenery like a curtain.

Fortunately, it seemed no one had witnessed Derek climbing down the outer wall and smashing the window.

As he slowly repaired the broken glass using transformation magic, Derek spoke.

"Lady Elente currently cannot meet outsiders or obtain information without the senior retainers'approval. If someone outside notices I secretly entered the room with the servants'help, it will only complicate matters unnecessarily."

"S-secretly entered? The Belmiere Manor has over a hundred servants, and including the stationed guards, it's not a scale one can move around nimbly alone..."

"I had help. This isn't the time for lengthy explanations."

Once the window was perfectly repaired, Derek began bandaging his bleeding hands with torn pieces of his clothing.

"I hadn't planned to make such a noisy entrance by breaking windows, but I feared Lady Elente might make a rash decision in this situation, so I had no choice but to act forcefully."

"That..."

Derek's blood stained the dagger lying on the floor.

Elente clutched her trembling chest and looked down at her own disheveled state.

What had she been about to do? Had she gone through with it, it would have become the most futile and foolish decision of Elente's life.

Yet her fingertips still trembled violently.

From an outsider's perspective, she was simply caught in the noble society's power struggles, falsely accused of a crime she didn't commit.

For someone who had fought her way through Evelstein's high society, this shouldn't have been an unbearable ordeal.

But more than anything, what weighed on her was the crisis of faith in the values she had pursued all her life.

Anyone who aspires to reign over others must know this—people are inherently treacherous.

Those subdued by authority and power will turn their backs when you fall. Some called this cruel, others accepted it as human nature.

Elente forced strength into her trembling jaw and slowly raised her head.

From her crouched position, Derek seemed tall. The eyes visible beneath his cloak showed no particular strong emotion.

He looked no different from when he had passed by Elente in the hallway with Leonard.

Yet why had she forgotten? Derek had always been like this.

"..."

Derek remained silent for a moment.

Facing Elente, who had just stepped back from the brink of an extreme decision, he could have recited the clichéd lines from the third-rate romance novels Denis loved.

That her life was precious and she shouldn't make foolish choices.

That he would stay by her side, so she should let go of her fears.

That if she trusted him, he would surely heal her wounds.

It would have been easy to comfort Elente with such romantic, slightly self-conscious lines, become her emotional support, and rebuild mutual trust while holding hands.

To pull the floundering girl out of the abyss by her arm.

But Derek didn't do that.

Derek was Elente's mentor.

Derek didn't believe in one-sided salvation of someone's heart.

To extend a saving hand to a girl who pursued power, believed in upright values, and carved her own path would be disrespectful to her life and ideals.

Teaching meant this.

One who unilaterally pulls someone from the mire by their arm isn't called a mentor.

A true mentor rolls up their sleeves and teaches how to push against the ground and pull oneself out of the mire.

Thus, instead of helping Elente up, Derek knelt on one knee beside her to meet her gaze.

Elente, slumped on the floor, raised her head to meet his eyes.

Her appearance was haggard. Unkempt hair stuck to her cheeks, and her lifeless eyes resembled those of a corpse.

"You've come to understand solitude."

In a room devoid of others, the experience of being abandoned one by one by those you believed would always follow you leaves emptiness and futility in your heart.

It's something all who aspire to reign over others must experience sooner or later.

Elente was simply going through that process. Even those who eventually command the world from lofty heights have all passed through this.

Yet there had been no one to tell her this.

So Derek whispered quietly without lengthy explanations:

"You've grown again."

Elente's eyes widened at these words.

Seeing the blood dripping from Derek's fingers, she suddenly felt as if cold water had been poured over her.

The heir to House Belmiere must always maintain dignity, living like a perfect flower.

But willpower is expendable. One must occasionally let everything go and find a place for mental rest.

Only now, having questioned her life's purpose and felt like hitting rock bottom, did she understand the importance of this.

"Derek."

She clenched her nose tightly to hold back threatening tears.

Without Derek's help, Elente stood up on her own. Lifting her chin, though still haggard, her eyes now held renewed vitality.

"I made a spectacle of myself. My apologies, Derek."

"Not at all. Anyone would be mentally overwhelmed in such a situation."

"Haha... Such slander should be calmly countered by collecting evidence and logically refuting it. I nearly made a wrong decision in a moment of perceived weakness, but it was just that—a momentary lapse. As Belmiere's heir who has long commanded respect, I shouldn't stumble over such small obstacles..."

Elente began speaking fluently, displaying her strong character as usual.

But seeing Derek silently watching without agreement or rebuttal, her words trailed off.

"So..."

Her voice faltered as she surveyed the room.

The blood-stained dagger, overturned table, rain-soaked carpet—complete chaos.

The reflection in the mirror looked so haggard she barely recognized herself.

And the image in Derek's eyes was no different.

Elente stammered before finally speaking with a trembling chin:

"So... I was struggling after all."

"..."

"I understand what you mean, Derek. Though I've attained considerable authority and power at this age, my inner strength hasn't kept pace. Still, Derek..."

Elente suddenly embraced Derek's chest and spoke in a trembling voice:

"I'm so glad you're still on my side."

After emotional turbulence passes, people quickly regain composure and become calm.

By the time Derek finished cleaning up, Elente was sitting primly in a corner of the bed, facing the wall.

Fidgeting with her fingertips and avoiding eye contact—she seemed embarrassed now that her head had cooled.

"Lady Elente."

"Yes! I mean, yes..."

Her voice jumped an octave before she hastily lowered it again.

The sage-like serenity following emotional upheaval couldn't dispel the lingering shame.

"D-don't misunderstand. I'm not the type to casually throw myself into a man's arms. I just had a momentary lapse in judgment and did something I normally wouldn't. Consider it like being drunk on strong liquor."

"...Understood. I'll remember Lady Elente as someone who embraces men when drunk."

"...Why would you phrase it like that?"

"Have you calmed down?"

Derek naturally provoked Elente into turning her head.

She suddenly stiffened and fidgeted before realizing even this reaction was Derek's doing.

'Though my secular power far exceeds his and I maintain perfect etiquette... talking with this man makes me feel like I'm being led around.'

This was a novel experience for Elente, who had been Belmiere's heir apparent since adolescence.

Superior and inferior positions were clear... yet this inferior man gave her the strange sensation of being controlled.

Derek was a peculiar man who seemed neither inferior nor superior.

'Now I understand why Lady Iselin fell for him. Noble ladies are typically weak to such men.'

Then, pressing her temples, she muttered to herself:

'He's a player.'

In truth, Derek had no such intentions. Elente was simply assigning meaning where none existed.

But being no ordinary woman herself, Elente's insight wasn't entirely off the mark.

Noblewomen had peculiar dispositions—they often felt no attraction to perfectly polite, agreeable gentlemen.

Instead, they frequently fell passionately for men who didn't completely bend to their will yet seemed within reach... a paradoxical tendency.

'Thinking this way suddenly cools my mood. If he's someone who casually manipulates people, as Belmiere's heir practically in the palm of his hand, being swayed would be quite a blow to my pride.'

Elente placed a hand on her chest and took deep breaths.

'For Lady Iselin's sake if nothing else, I mustn't lose my mental equilibrium.'

"Lady Elente.""Gasp?!"

But when Derek suddenly approached and called her name, Elente broke into a cold sweat and recoiled.

Pressing her back against the wall, she glared wide-eyed.

"Don't suddenly get so close! I'm still recovering from mental fragility and startle easily in this state."

"My apologies. I lacked consideration."

"N-no... strictly speaking it's not your fault... no, I'm the one who should apologize."

Elente shook her head and began fanning her face vigorously with her hand.

Derek organized the letters on the table and spoke more briskly.

"The longer I stay, the greater the risk of being caught by patrolling retainers, so I'll share necessary information quickly and leave."

"Le-leaving? Abandoning me here alone?"

"...? Naturally I can't stay indefinitely..."

"Ah, no. Just asking. Of course."

Elente quickly averted her eyes and perched on the bed.

Sitting alone, the room's darkness seemed to press on her shoulders, but she didn't want to show such vulnerability to Derek.

As said, this was just temporary mental fragility. Saying strange things now would only cause future troubles.

"I've been pretending to cooperate with Young Master Leonard while probing him. Do you remember when Lady Trisha visited Ravenclaw Barony?"

"Lady Trisha? Yes... she asked you to investigate necromancers who escaped from Rodentz Island."

"Necromancy isn't easily accessible to ordinary mages, and its nature is hard to discern. But having encountered necromancy through House Duplein, I can tell."

Derek crossed his arms while rapidly relaying information.

"The necromantic laboratory in the basement differs significantly from the necromancy we saw during House Duplein's tragedy. It's likely connected to Rodentz Island's necromancy. Though... this is just speculation without concrete evidence."

"Then... Leonard's'pilgrimage'wasn't..."

"He must have encountered necromancy somehow and studied it on Rodentz Island."

The 6-Star necromancer Phee was an author of numerous necromantic texts.

Rodentz Island's necromancers gathered to study her works, worshipping her somewhere on the continent while searching for her writings.

Leonard had become one of them until the Renuel family purged the island, forcing his return to House Belmiere.

Upon returning, he found Ryner had abdicated the heir position, with Elente taking his place.

For Leonard, who had been overshadowed by Ryner, he likely believed himself more suited to lead the family than Elente.

"...But the connection between Rodentz Island's necromancy and Leonard is just speculation. Without evidence, how can we counter Leonard's schemes?"

"No need to counter. We simply return the schemes with greater schemes."

"What...?"

"Why fight on the battlefield our opponent prepared? Let's redraw the map with us in control."

Derek unfolded a letter.

A message personally obtained from Iselin of House Duplein.

-'The late Prince Valerian of House Duplein made grave mistakes under the influence of evil necromancy, but these were not acts of his own will. Though they brought great calamity to our family with unfortunate results, he never actively researched necromancy.'

-'Distorting these facts would be a great discourtesy to House Duplein. We sincerely mourn the late Prince Valerian and will not tolerate unnecessary slander against the deceased.'

A letter directly refuting claims that Elente had discussed necromantic research with Valerian.

Of course, no noble family would proudly admit their member studied necromancy. These denials might be mere formalities.

Yet they could serve as one piece among many proving Elente's innocence.

"...Sending such an aggressive letter to Belmiere must have been difficult for Lady Iselin..."

"She firmly believes in Lady Elente's innocence."

"...And this letter from House Renuel?"

"Notification that their great hero, Family Head Rodea, will soon visit House Belmiere."

Elente's eyes widened again.

Countess Rodea, who had purged Rodentz Island, was a hero soon to be elevated to Border Count, her authority growing.

She detested necromancy, stopping at nothing to eliminate Rodentz Island's remnants.

Through Tricia, Derek had summoned this natural enemy of necromancers to Belmiere.

"Y-you're escalating this so dramatically? What if Leonard truly has no connection to Rodentz Island? Can we handle the fallout?"

"We can manage."

"H-how?"

"Because this letter is a forgery I fabricated."

Elente's jaw dropped.

"When our opponent fights with lies and fabricated evidence, why should we fight fair?"

"..."

"Countess Rodea is practically the Grim Reaper to Rodentz Island's necromancers. Merely invoking her name gives us some initiative."

If Rodea personally investigated, she might detect traces of Rodentz Island's necromancy in the laboratory's remnants.

Though difficult for ordinary experts, Rodea was exceptional—the world's foremost authority on Rodentz Island's necromancy.

If successful, Elente's innocence would be proven.

After all, Elente had spent her entire life in Evelstein and Belmiere County, never having visited Rodentz Island.

"Derek. Leonard excels at document forgery and framing situations. Though this letter looks authentic, he might quickly spot it as a crude fake."

"That's exactly what I want."

Derek's smile left Elente speechless.

She couldn't shake the feeling Derek was setting some trap.

"Staying longer only increases detection risk. I'll exit through the window now."

"Al-already?"

"Pardon?"

"Ah, no... the rain has stopped, so that's fortunate."

After receiving Derek's plan, Elente watched him tie a rope to the windowsill with complex emotions.

Having poured out her deepest frustrations to someone—especially a man—for the first time, she couldn't easily shake this awkward, fidgety demeanor.

But she couldn't remain like this forever, so Elente quickly shook her head.

"The outer wall is slippery, so be careful not to fall."

"Don't worry."

- Whoosh

Opening the window let the night wind rush in.

The cold air made everything feel real. This man had burst in like the wind, deflected Elente's dagger, and now prepared to depart like the wind.

They would meet again tomorrow when the plan commenced in earnest.

Yet why did this brief separation feel so significant? The empty darkness behind her in the room suddenly felt heavier.

"Tomorrow, Count Belmiere will personally come to hear the full story. That's when we make our move."

"Don't worry. I can present my case logically to Father."

"I trust you will. Then rest well tonight and..."

Before descending the rope, Derek met Elente's eyes and stated firmly:

"Don't forget that I'm your ally, Lady Elente."

A simple statement of fact.

Yet Elente suddenly felt as if stabbed in the chest.

Normally, she would have nodded coolly in acknowledgment... but for some reason, those words made her heart swell strangely.

After Elente nodded, the man swiftly descended into the night's darkness. Watching him land below and disappear into the shadows, she untied the rope, closed the window, and returned to the empty darkness.

Lying on the bed, she stared blankly at the ceiling.

-'Don't forget that I'm your ally, Lady Elente.'

The words he'd left behind like a gift buzzed annoyingly in her ears.

-'Don't forget that I'm your ally, Lady Elente.'

Like echoes, the remembered words kept resounding.

Suddenly realizing, the room's empty darkness no longer felt oppressive—instead, a peculiar sense of fulfillment washed over her.

Elente calmly and rationally considered:

This is definitely dangerous.