Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 129

The grand lattice walls surrounding Beltus Mansion's entrance created a majestic sight along the ridgeline, but the smoke and mana rising from within obscured the view.

Derek gripped his horse's reins as he charged through the unmanned gates into Beltus Mansion's interior.

Breaking through the sizable southeastern entrance, he cut straight across the southern gardens.

Countess Rodea's soldiers followed behind, their jaws dropping at the hordes of magical beasts swarming everywhere.

"Sir Derek! While entering was the right move, we must proceed systematically from here!"

Countess Rodea shouted beside Derek as she drew her Holy Blood Sword.

"The mansion staff are mere pawns—we must locate the Grand Duke while preserving their lives!"

"The office in the main manor is most likely! However—"

Just as Derek called out while crossing the extravagantly large garden—

- Whoosh

A massive halo of light began rising above Beltus Mansion.

The fire giant, completely subdued and contributing nothing beyond starting fires.

As its form dissipated, an enormous magic circle now spread across the sky centered on the eastern spire.

The eastern spire housing all magical research facilities.

The traces of a colossal defensive barrier blooming from it soon isolated the main manor, preparing to bombard enemies within.

A protective formation crafted by high-ranking transformation mages through years of deliberation.

Rovenalt, Beltus Ducal Family's eldest son holding activation authority, had completed preparations from the eastern spire.

Simultaneously deploying high-level bombardment magic while fully shielding the main manor—this formation was nearly impregnable once activated.

"We must neutralize the eastern spire's formation while handling the mercenary garrison in the west."

"With the mansion this overrun, their defensive forces can't respond systematically. We'll exploit this chaos!"

As Countess Rodea swung her Holy Blood Sword, crimson mana bloomed, cleaving through nearby magical beasts.

Though nobility gave her magical expertise, she preferred direct battlefield engagement.

Radiant light emanated from her pristine armor as corpse-formed trolls and goblins amassed to block them.

Having slain thousands of such undead on Rodentz Island, she was unfazed.

Her veteran soldiers moved with her seamless battlefield precision.

- Slash! Crash!

Their flawless coordination left no openings.

Derek fired mana arrows from horseback while carving a path, calling to Countess Rodea:

"Conserve your strength! We have many enemies ahead!"

"With necromantic traces everywhere, how could I hold back? First we secure the eastern spire and western garrison!"

"We'll... have help for that."

"What?"

Derek tightened his reins, expression growing graver.

Countess Rodea wasn't his only ally.

Unbeknownst to her, Derek now commanded protection from enough factions to rank among the southwestern continent's elite.

- BOOM! CRASH! KABOOM!

The isolation chamber's outer walls collapsed—no, vanished without trace.

Through the gaping hole, Beltus Mansion's devastated grounds came into view.

Magical beasts swarmed everywhere. Garrison troops emerged to purge them, but complete clearance would take time.

The southern gardens burned unchecked with no manpower to contain it.

At least eldest son Rovenalt remained composed, erecting defensive barriers from the eastern spire's mana.

Once complete, they could address immediate threats.

"Lovely scenery."

The monster who'd instantly annihilated the fire giant now sauntered forward to loom over the Grand Duke.

Kneeling exhaustedly while gripping his cane, the Grand Duke gritted his teeth.

As Phee opened her mouth to speak, he suddenly waved his hand, summoning 4th-Class conjurations.

Hulking armored earth spirits swung swords—only to freeze before touching Phee.

- FWOOOSH!

Blue mana erupted from Happy the Arch Lich's skull, flames igniting in its hollow eyes.

3rd-Class Combat Magic:"Paralysis"

The mere concept of a summon wielding such magic defied reason.

Phee's enchanting smile widened as she brushed back her bangs, revealing widened eyes shining with mana.

Not her usual sharp gaze—these round pupils radiated power with a single pulse.

The Grand Duke's hair stood on end from the deathly aura alone.

Necromantic energy—especially this refined—embodied death itself.

5th-Class Necromancy surpassing 4th-Class.

Purer than even the mana used to summon Arch Liches.

Borderline 6th-Class... No, beyond. Essentially 6th-Class preparation.

Every mage dreams of glimpsing 6th-Class magic's realm before death.

"This... this is..."

Kalimford's 6th-Class magic summoned meteors. Melberot's froze mountain ranges.

World-reshaping, cataclysmic displays defined 6th-Class spells.

So what did 6th-Class Necromancy entail?

The ultimate forbidden art's pinnacle—what scale of devastation would it wreak?

Blanketing the world in vengeful spirits? Corpse mountains? Crimson soulfire?

Child's play.

Phee's 6th-Class Necromancy differed entirely from others'spectacular displays.

A lifetime devoted to singular research yields deceptively simple perfection.

As Phee's eyes focused, time seemed to halt momentarily.

No world-burning. No frozen peaks. No rewritten maps.

Just death.

Necromancers devote lives to studying death's essence.

Thus their ultimate technique embodies nothing else.

6th-Class Necromancy:"Instant Death"

A single blink concentrated all lives within Phee's perception into her palm.

A clenched fist reduced them to dust. That's all.

Merely perceiving lesser beings guided them to eternal rest.

Only equals could resist—literally, none below Phee's tier stood a chance.

- Squelch! Thud!

The Grand Duke's summoned spirits disintegrated from Phee's blink.

Elementals shattered. Monsters hemorrhaged and collapsed. The room became a bloodbath in under a second.

Only the Grand Duke remained—spared intentionally.

"......"

He forgot to breathe.

Kneeling cane-supported, all resistance drained away.

Blood-drenched Phee's smirk prompted desperate calculations.

Overpowering her was impossible. Alternative approaches were needed.

"If you need corpses... I can provide."

"Oh?"

Even now, his strategic mind whirred behind trembling pupils.

"Researching death incognito, yes? My house has... expendable lives aplenty... Use me... conduct research undiscovered..."

"Oh? Is that so."

"High-Class mage corpses too... obtainable... Senior retainers include mages... lifelong loyalty means... no suspicion... Noble-blooded corpses—my children, branch families... numerous..."

"How convenient. Sparing you does sound preferable. Heehee."

Phee sauntered closer, placing bloodied hands on his shoulders to whisper:

"But... do you still consider me a controllable variable?"

His pupils dilated further.

Her claw-like grip resembled a predator sinking fangs into prey.

"Heheh. Even Beltus's master fears death? Those who crush others should remember their own mortality."

"..."

"Want to live? Fine. But not for free."

"What... do you want..."

"Naturally. This benefits you too. Rodentz Island's dregs... they're desperate for my baptism. They'll envy you."

Crimson mana surged from her gripping hands.

Despite claiming she wouldn't kill, Phee's energy always carried death's taint.

The Grand Duke looked up to see a demon incarnate.

Demons grant wishes—never as intended.

Beltus Mansion's panorama revealed pure pandemonium.

Mysterious necromancy enveloped the area as undead monsters spread chaos.

Amidst it all, the blood-drenched girl loomed over the Grand Duke.

Soon, engravings carved by her nails began glowing through his wounds.

Those who trample others must accept reciprocal fate.

The Grand Duke had targeted a 6th-Class necromancer's cherished apprentice.

No sane individuals reach 6th-Class.

Derek avoided provoking her despite Lady Trisha's requests—for good reason.

"You're now a necromancer."

Her teaching methods—incomparable to any master's.