Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 14

Raeg felt an odd dissonance as he watched Diela step onto the platform.

What kind of person was Diela?

A self-centered, immature, thoughtless brat.

A troublemaker so bad that even the Duplein family wouldn't miss her if they kicked her out. The memories of her countless outbursts and mistreatment of the servants Raeg cherished still lingered before his eyes.

Yet the Diela standing straight on the platform and staring back at him showed none of that frivolousness.

Beneath her draped robe, her calm gaze fixed on Raeg carried a sense of caution and slight tension.

'...Does she actually intend to win?'

Raeg clenched his forearm and glanced up at the mansion terrace where the Duke of Duplein was observing.

The Duke's gaze, sitting at the tea table with noblewomen while overlooking the garden, didn't waver in the slightest.

'At any rate, I should finish this quickly.'

The servant acting as referee stood straight on the platform.

Raeg also stepped onto the platform and quietly observed Diela before speaking.

"I thought you'd be cowering in fear while plotting how to torment more servants, but this is unexpected."

Unlike Valerian's, Raeg's noble attire was more practical for movement. As he rolled up his sleeves and shook out his hands, the veins bulging along his forearms were clearly visible. Before being a mage, he was first and foremost a robust young man.

It was hard to imagine Diela—lacking in both magical ability and physical strength—defeating Raeg. His mind was filled with thoughts of ending this swiftly.

"Please complete the duel preparations. We'll follow the Evelstain Kelvrem Salon's advanced mage duel rules—the first to trigger General Pellom's protection barrier loses."

Head Butler Dellon recited the basic rules from the platform. The Kelvrem Salon's duel rules were already the most common standard for noble magic duels. Both participants knew them well without needing them spelled out.

With that, Head Butler Dellon closed and opened his eyes before declaring:

"Begin."

As the starting signal rang out, Raeg swiftly raised his arm. The taut string of tension snapped, and a flash of fighting spirit ignited in Raeg's eyes.

Each duelist began with one accessory inscribed with a protection barrier by a senior mage.

The"Protection Inscription,"a minimum 3-star ranked barrier, would automatically activate just before the wearer sustained critical damage, nullifying the opponent's magic before disappearing. In other words, triggering this barrier meant accepting decisive damage—and thus defeat.

The barrier lasted about ten minutes from activation. If no victor emerged within that time, the duel would end in a draw.

Naturally, Raeg had no intention of allowing even a draw, so he focused his mind.

A single proper 1st Grade Magic spell would be enough to trigger the barrier against a sluggish opponent like Diela.

Raeg gathered magic power in his hand and began chanting.

"Winds that sweep the plains and cleave the earth..."

Though Raeg began his incantation with arm raised, Diela remained still, simply glaring at him.

One key aspect of magical duels was incantation speed.

When starting at a distance, the first to complete their incantation held the advantage.

Quickly initiating the chant was crucial to countering the opponent's magic, yet Diela just stood there, robe fluttering as she stared at Raeg.

'Has she frozen in fear?'

Raeg smirked, preparing to release the 1st Grade Magic"Wind Blade"from his fingertips.

He felt a slight disappointment at how easily this would end. But Raeg wasn't softhearted enough to go easy on Diela.

The blade of wind took shape and shot toward Diela.

He was already imagining triggering her protection barrier and sending her back to the guest house in disgrace.

- Whoosh!

At that moment, Diela dropped low and dashed sideways.

Her robe fluttered, revealing glimpses of her golden hair. It was an agility rarely seen from her before.

But she was still just a girl who'd been cooped up in the guest house. There were limits to how nimble she could be.

"Where do you think you're going?!"

Raeg gritted his teeth and manipulated his magic, altering the wind blade's trajectory.

The redirected blade chased after Diela, but it didn't land a direct hit.

- Whoosh!

- Crack! Shatter!

An ice pillar erupted from the ground, deflecting the wind blade.

Normally, such a basic ice wall—merely elemental magic—couldn't block a 1st Grade spell.

But forcing the opponent to constantly redirect their attacks weakened the magic's power. The flow of magic, twisted and bent mid-cast, inevitably lost half its potency compared to when first chanted.

Raeg frowned.

Diela knew that the more complex and varied the magic's trajectory, the harder it was to control and the weaker it became.

This was instinctive knowledge only gained through firsthand experience manipulating magic.

After endlessly practicing mana manifestation with Derek, Diela's sensitivity to magic flow now rivaled Raeg's.

'So her training wasn't entirely fruitless.'

Raeg stood his ground and began another incantation. This time, he planned to fire three consecutive wind blades—his specialty.

If she thought dodging would disrupt his magic control, he'd simply cut off all escape routes.

As the next spell prepared to launch, Diela gritted her teeth and sprinted sideways.

-'Listen carefully, Lady Diela. Mercenary combat is different from noble dueling. We don't particularly value fairness—we focus solely on winning.'

-'It's far from the honorable victories imagined in typical magic duels. You might not even be recognized even if you win.'

Before stepping onto the platform, Derek had looked down at Diela with those crimson eyes and spoken.

-'Nevertheless, we can still achieve victory itself. Your opponent is a 1st Grade mage, but his real combat experience is severely lacking.'

The mercenaries'combat arts, forged where a single misstep meant death, were worlds apart from Diela's sheltered life.

No matter how Derek tried to teach her, there was no way a noble lady could absorb such skills overnight.

So Derek had only conveyed basic principles to Diela.

They were nothing more than verbal knowledge.

Lifelong battlefield experience—the knowledge of life-and-death struggles—couldn't be meaningfully learned through a few spoken words.

Yet Derek's advice always struck at critical weaknesses.

Elements of real combat that noble magic duels, filled with authority and dignity, never even considered.

Coordinating the battlefield and utilizing the environment. Basic cover tactics using terrain, luring the opponent into carelessness, conserving magic while draining theirs, skillfully deflecting powerful spells.

Merely hearing about these had limits, but against an opponent adhering to noble duel etiquette, Diela had options.

- Bang!

- Whoosh!

Diela summoned several more ice pillars with her magic.

Still a novice, even this much made her head throb. But she darted between the pillars, using them as cover.

Derek had explained to her:

Battlefield coordination was fundamental to duel victories. Fighting on an open plain, in a dark forest, or a complex cityscape—each was different.

Diela aimed to complicate the battlefield and create variables.

In a duel where triggering the opponent's protection barrier just once meant victory, a single well-placed strike could decide everything.

Diela was a Wild School mage by nature.

Even when she couldn't use magic, in that dark forest with Derek chasing her, she'd tried to exploit the environment to ambush him.

Using the forest's darkness and undergrowth for cover, trembling hands gripping rocks as she desperately tried to defeat Derek—those memories remained etched in her mind.

- Crash! Bang!

As she circled the platform's edge and dodged another of Raeg's spells, part of the platform collapsed, sending up smoke.

Diela leaped toward the broken section and slipped into the hollow space beneath the platform.

'Under Kelvrem Salon rules, leaving the platform means defeat...!'

Raeg gritted his teeth, dispersing the smoke with his thoughts.

'Wait...! The space beneath the platform isn't outside the boundary...!'

He wanted to rage at such a loophole interpretation, but he had to accept it.

The Kelvrem Salon's advanced mage duel rules hadn't accounted for opponents shamelessly using the platform's underside as cover.

No noble in their dignified magic duels would dirty themselves crawling under a dusty platform to dodge spells.

- Shatter! Crack!

At that moment, three ice pillars erupted beside Raeg.

Diela, now beneath the platform, had sensed his position and attacked.

- Crack! Shatter!

The ice pillars shooting up from below were clearly aimed at Raeg.

If a single hit meant victory, then attacking blindly from outside the opponent's line of sight was the surest method. That was Derek's solution.

Nobles sought glorious victories.

Their salon duels—showcasing skill and training through honorable displays of magic—lacked the lethal edge of real combat.

Fairness was never a virtue when fighting to kill.

A one-sided, overwhelming advantage was the mercenary's ideal battlefield.

- Rustle.

'This crazy...!'

Raeg quickly dashed toward the platform's center.

He couldn't pinpoint Diela's location beneath the platform. How could he hit someone whose position he didn't know?

The battlefield was tilted. Until Diela collapsed from exhaustion, he'd be the one evading.

The counter was simple.

Jump into that dusty space beneath the platform and fight on equal footing.

If the enemy lured you into a muddy brawl, you had to be willing to get dirty.

If Diela abandoned noble duel etiquette for sheer obsession with winning, Raeg had no choice but to respond in kind.

Raeg steeled himself to leap into the dusty underside. If she wanted to play dirty, so be it.

As he moved toward the platform's broken edge, something happened.

- Crunch.

'...!'

The shattered section was now blocked by magic-formed ice.

She'd secured the advantageous position and barred his entry.

"You... little...!"

Raeg summoned magic to his hand again.

He could always create another entrance. Smashing through the wooden platform was child's play for him.

- Crack!

But the moment Raeg gathered magic, an attack came from below.

Unlike Raeg's spells, Diela's narrower attacks didn't blast huge holes in the platform.

Yet a direct hit would trigger the protection barrier. In magic duels, that was enough to decide the match.

- Crack! Shatter! Shatter!

Every time Raeg tried to break through, interference came endlessly.

Though Diela couldn't see Raeg's exact position beneath the platform, she could roughly estimate it through magic flow and footsteps.

This difference was crucial.

She kept attacking the moments Raeg gathered magic to break through. At least when his position was revealed, she could strike unimpeded.

She'd never relinquish this tilted battlefield's advantage. Fairness was a luxury in mercenary combat.

Through the ice-pierced platform, glimpses of Diela's dust-covered form could be seen.

Raeg locked eyes with Diela beneath the platform. Her gaze showed no emotional fluctuation.

That calmness even in battle felt familiar.

It was the same gaze her mercenary-born mentor had shown when Valerian grabbed his collar—utterly unshaken.

Those endlessly cold eyes, always making rational judgments no matter the situation.

Only then did Raeg realize.

There was no way this tiny girl could devise such battlefield control tactics alone.

Undoubtedly, her white-haired mentor's influence.

"You little...!"

- Crash! Shatter!

Raeg summoned magic again, manifesting magic arrows to destroy the rising ice pillars.

He clenched his teeth. If his opponent abandoned duel decorum for pure victory, he had no choice but to respond in kind.

"Wh-what is this...! Covered in dust and... Diela...!"

From the terrace, Miriela stared in horror. This was nothing like noble magic duels.

She grabbed her skirt, about to rush down, but the Duke of Duplein stopped her with a solemn voice.

"Watch the duel to its conclusion first."

"You...!"

He walked to the terrace railing, leaning on it as he calmly observed the platform.

Even the servants below looked flustered by the dusty spectacle.

The noble retainers seemed unaccustomed to such scenes, but the Duke—having experienced battlefields in his youth—showed no surprise.

He simply rested his chin on his hand and silently watched.