Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 138

He remembered the moment he first opened his eyes in a slum corner. The very beginning of Derek's journey.

A harsh environment where he was thrown into the world without warning, forced to scrape by just to eat. As he struggled to survive, one question naturally engraved itself in young Derek's mind.

It wasn't particularly profound, nor did it help with survival... just the kind of obvious question everyone ponders at least once.

Why live?

A trivial thought the boy had while chewing on dry rye bread, sitting in a street corner as he gazed up at the starry sky above.

The streets were cold.

With beggars as common as pebbles underfoot, no passerby spared Derek a glance... but his luminous eyes remained fixed on that sky.

- Bang! Crash!

Derek's figure vanished the moment he rose.

The Duke of Beltus frowned as he scanned his surroundings. In that brief moment, Derek had used confusion magic to erase his presence, hiding within the environment to strike the Duke's blind spot.

A veteran mercenary through and through.

He'd instinctively realized that facing a family-head class mage in pure power was suicidal.

Even if Phee had softened him up first, the Duke remained a 5th-Class Mage responsible for an entire noble house. To defeat him required not just magical skill but utilizing every available resource.

Battlefield coordination and improvisation were Derek's specialties.

The Duke vaguely recognized this too, immediately wrapping himself in defensive magic when Derek disappeared.

There was no telling how or where his attack might come. One thing was certain—so long as he didn't take a critical hit from some bizarre angle, the Duke would never be overwhelmed.

- Whoosh!

A fireball flew from beyond the shattered outer wall.

Yet any magic below 2-Star rank dissolved into mana with just a glance from the Duke.

He possessed the ability to control mana with his gaze alone.

A technique unique to him that even seasoned mages couldn't easily replicate.

- Crack!

But Derek's intention was precisely to draw that gaze.

Emerging from the rubble, Derek drew his sword and closed the distance to the Duke's face in an instant. The leap was so fast that blinking would make you miss his blade already at the Duke's nose.

- Kaang!

Yet the 2-Star combat magic"Barrier"had shock absorption disproportionate to its caster's mana.

The sword trembled violently, stopped mere inches from the Duke's face.

"You think cheap tricks can defeat me?"

- Boom!

"Light of the Empire"in the Duke's hand began glowing again.

An instantaneous shockwave sent Derek flying back into the wall. Dust billowed as Derek coughed in agony.

Yet he rose again, creating distance.

Was it retreat? Or bait? Unclear, but the Duke had no choice but to pursue.

He'd already sensed it—if he didn't kill this monster here, there was no telling how he might grow in the future.

Facing a 5th-Class Mage, Derek endlessly strategized, adapting and improving his mana usage to keep attempting reversals.

His mana sensitivity was remarkable, his growth speed abnormally fast.

Who could doubt it? This monster had the makings of at least a 5th-Class Mage.

Meeting him while still a 3rd-Class Mage, hitting a growth wall—that was tremendous luck.

When given the chance to uproot, you uproot.

Thus the Duke chased Derek across the corridor.

- Kwaaak! Crack!

Derek deployed confusion magic, scattering illusions everywhere.

Though doppelgangers appeared in his wake, the Duke—skilled in detection magic—remained unfooled.

Arrows flew, swords stabbed—he ignored them all, knowing they'd vanish on contact.

Derek crossed the half-destroyed second-floor corridor, kicking open a door leading to an exterior staircase.

- Whoosh

But what awaited beyond wasn't escape—it was a massive demon.

The horrific sight of that colossal face looming was pure terror.

Following the Duke's orders, this hellish demon had anticipated Derek's escape route.

Its glowing eyes flared before a massive fist came crashing down.

- Kwaaang!

Derek tumbled across the ground from the impact, then frantically scrambled downstairs through the dust.

"How delightful to see you run!"

The Duke channeled mana to float down, pursuing Derek.

Abandoning all else, he was determined to kill Derek here. That single thought drove him forward.

- Crash! Thud!

Derek rolled into the first-floor corridor, then sprinted across.

Though their battle had left the second floor half-destroyed, the first still retained some noble mansion grandeur.

Of course, magical beasts had trampled carpets and scattered furniture everywhere.

- Shatter! Boom!

Then every window along the long corridor shattered as bat-like monsters swarmed in.

The Duke's summons seemed endless. Each radiated mana yet moved with eerie coordination.

Derek fired 2-Star"Fireballs"down the corridor, burning them away—but more kept coming.

Drawing his longsword, Derek cut them down one by one until the Duke appeared opposite him.

He'd floated in through a window.

"All that grand talk, yet you flee pathetically. I'll end you here—"

- Crash!

The ceiling collapsed before he finished.

Startled, the Duke activated defensive magic—but couldn't repel all the debris.

'An ambush... reinforcements?'

The Arch Lich blocked the mansion entrance.

No enemies should remain. Yet the rubble carried traces of distinct mana.

Looking up revealed nothing—until he noticed Derek's staff.

"Footsteps"

Crafted by Rocheste Territory's transformation master, this staff could reactivate previously cast magic after a delay.

Derek's earlier fireballs weren't meant to suppress the Duke—they were timed charges to collapse the building's foundation.

After setting this up, he'd lured the Duke downstairs to bury him.

- Crash! Thud!

Of course, mere rubble couldn't subdue the Duke. His defensive magic could withstand this weight.

But it diverted his attention upward.

That split-second distraction.

In battles decided by instants, even slight openings created irreversible outcomes.

As the Duke turned back—

- Whoosh!

The figure charging at him dissolved into mana—another illusion.

In this extreme situation, this madman had layered yet another feint.

Anticipating the anticipation, countering the counter—that foresight defined true duelists.

Was this just to prevent the Duke from blocking the rubble?

Realizing this, the Duke turned to defend against the falling debris—

- Stab!

But Derek pressed further.

A sword protruded from the Duke's shoulder. His eyes widened as he looked back.

Even buried under rubble, this would be fatal—yet Derek went further, stabbing again from behind.

An impossible counter.

Better to trade mutual injury than take a one-sided blow.

As the Duke prepared to unleash a shockwave—

- Whoosh!

Derek's figure dissolved again—another illusion.

In this life-or-death moment, this lunatic had mixed in yet another fake.

To make the Duke waste his defense on illusions instead of rubble?

Belatedly realizing this, the Duke turned back—

- Thud!

Derek struck again.

Buried together in rubble, both would suffer—but Derek could deal greater damage this way.

Take flesh if you can get bone.

This bloodied young mercenary's gambler spirit differed entirely from risk-averse nobles.

"You... bastard..."

Blood gushed from his pierced shoulder.

- Rumble! Crash!

Debris from above buried them both.

- Drip

Dust trickled down the rubble pile.

The collapsed debris had broken through to the basement.

Starlight seeped through the shattered ceiling as movement stirred below.

- Crack! Thud! Crash!

The wounded Duke coughed violently as he rose.

Blood pooled from his shoulder; his legs refused to obey. His noble attire was soiled with dust and blood, his battered body creaking.

Yet he lived—his defensive magic had protected his vitals.

- Crack! Thud!

But his knees buckled upon emerging.

Necromantic madness clouded his mind; his veins burned with fever.

His body was broken, mana nearly depleted. The mansion crumbled around him as enemies and monsters swarmed.

In this extreme crisis, the Duke's blood surged.

Enduring this would bring him closer to his ambitions.

This thought alone kept him fighting. Thus had the Duke amassed power.

"Cough... gasp... gasp..."

The scent of wine filled the air.

The wine cellar. The collapse had reached underground.

Shattered bottles and leaking casks painted the floor blood-red.

Was the liquid dripping from his hand blood or wine? Or both?

Unclear, but he had to focus.

"Gasp... cough... ugh..."

The Duke wiped his bloody forehead, clutching his wounded shoulder.

His vision blurred. He punched his own face to stay conscious.

- Crash!

- Drip

Another figure rose from the rubble.

No need to guess who—that monster had fallen with him.

Red eyes gleamed through white hair. Wine and blood stained his boots and face.

A broken fingernail, a deep gash above his left eyebrow. His sword was nowhere to be found.

Undeterred, he charged and punched the Duke's face.

- Thud!

"Cough!"

The Duke collapsed but managed to channel mana into a shockwave at Derek's feet.

- Wham!

At his absolute limit.

Yet the mana from his fingertips summoned blades that stabbed Derek's shoulder and thigh—piercing clean through.

Blood gushed as Derek rolled across the wine-soaked floor, groaning.

"You... damn bastard... Who do you think I am...?"

Simply summoning those blades made him cough blood.

Each spell now threatened his life.

Yet this zombie-like man wouldn't stop.

He grabbed a fallen blade, glared... then lunged for the Duke's collar.

He slammed him down, reaching for another sword—but the Duke tripped him.

- Crash! Boom!

Derek tried rising but was at his limit too.

The Duke smirked weakly, reaching for a blade—until Derek threw a rock at his hand.

- Whack!

The sharp stone left a deep gash.

As the Duke staggered, Derek shoved him down.

- Wham! Wham!

He mounted him, punching repeatedly. Blood sprayed; teeth scattered.

But the Duke mustered mana to throw Derek off.

He kicked Derek's stomach, stomped his thigh, raising a blade for the kill.

Blood and wine splattered everywhere.

Broken casks leaked red liquid.

This brutal brawl differed little from slum fights.

Yet both were accomplished nobles.

The Duke tremblingly grabbed a dagger—but Derek seized his wrist.

Neither would yield. Their shaking hands strained against each other.

Derek's nails dug into the Duke's wrist, drawing blood.

"Die. Die! You damn... bastard...!"

"..."

They struggled over the dagger.

Then Derek spoke, eyes wide:

"No more mana left, I see."

"..."

"Pity."

A chill ran down the Duke's spine.

Even in this life-or-death struggle, this madman had been observing his magic for insights.

- Boom!

A 1-Star"Shockwave"struck the Duke's stomach, sending him crashing into a wine cask.

Wine soaked his shoulder as he trembled, watching the bloodied young wolf rise.

This man was insane.

What drove such obsession beyond magical ambition?

"Cough... gurgle... choke..."

Derek too struggled to rise, coughing violently.

Stumbling repeatedly, slipping, forcing himself up again.

Yet his expression never changed as he stood fully.

A dagger in hand.

The reaper come to end the Duke's long journey.

This realization made his limbs shake violently.

"You... madman..."

"..."

"Why... why this obsession... with magic...?"

Derek's cold gaze met his.

The Duke tried moving his ruined body, but even the wine soaking him felt unbearably heavy.

"Magic is just... a means for lowlifes like you to climb...?"

"..."

"Then I'll show you... real power... Take my hand..."

Death's scent filled the air.

Stronger than the cellar's wine.

The Duke's sharp nose couldn't miss that terror. Trembling, he spoke:

"If you want... to learn magic... I'll take you higher... I rule Beltus..."

"..."

"Your skill... is proven. Courage... judgment... You have what it takes... Take my hand... I'll raise you..."

"You asked why I obsess over magic?"

Derek staggered forward.

- Clang! Clatter!

He dropped the dagger. It rolled away into wine.

Mana gathered in his hand.

Still enough mana left? The Duke cursed inwardly.

After scraping the bottom, only willpower remained.

Superhuman will to draw forth every last drop—that was the path to higher realms.

What the Duke had shown throughout.

Transcending Adelbert's structured magic to glimpse its essence.

The euphoria of reaching that pinnacle surpassed any drug.

- Crack! Snap!

His body burned as if electrified.

Using such magic in this state would leave lasting damage.

But stopping now was impossible.

Malignant aura swirled in Derek's eyes as his mana flooded the cellar.

The Duke suddenly felt an inexplicable chill.

Then—a deafening roar as Derek's mana erupted.

"It's gotten cold. Must be winter."

Phee stretched after exiting the forest.

Considering borrowing a horse from a nearby village to return to Ravenclaw Territory—she mused cheerfully.

Her casual demeanor after wreaking havoc at Beltus Mansion proved her abnormality. Even she acknowledged that among 6th-Class Mages, none were sane.

Walking under moonlight, she glanced back at the distant mansion.

The hellscape of raging spirits and monsters pleased her. When would she get to rampage like this again?

Yet the mansion looked quite different from when she'd left.

The moonlight was bright.

Revealing Beltus Mansion's main building—now completely frozen.

"Finally something presentable."

4-Star Combat Magic:"Large-Scale Spatial Freeze".

A spell that could halt entire battlefields—last seen during the northern continent's great war.

"♬ ♩♪"

Humming, she walked away.

Phee sauntered into the darkness, leaving the mansion behind.

The ice-encased mansion glittered beautifully under moonlight.

Ironic, considering the horrors unfolding inside.