Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 141

A long shadow had fallen over the Duplein family.

An endless succession of nights that seemed like they would never end.

Raeg, the heir to the crumbling family, sat in the dimly lit head's office, occasionally letting out deep sighs.

The night was long.

Who knew when sunlight would reach this dark corner... These were uncertain times.

"A new 4-Star mage has emerged."

"The eldest son of the Grodel family from the southern region, I presume? Reports suggested his progress was rather stagnant."

"No. It's from the Ravenclaw barony in the southwestern continent."

Kochella, the imperial magic advisor who had been perusing the late Grand Mage Adelbert's works, set down his book with a frown.

In the personal study of the Head Magic Advisor at Gremport Imperial Palace—the heart of the continent.

When Roen, one of his most loyal subordinates, delivered this report, the wrinkles around Kochella's mouth deepened.

"An unfamiliar family name."

"It's someone Lord Melberot personally ennobled not long ago. The lord governing the Rodellen region in the southwestern continent—barely a few years past his coming-of-age ceremony."

"...Derek Raidof Ravenclaw?"

"Yes. You remember precisely."

Being well-versed in continental nobility, Kochella could recall recently ennobled figures—though he didn't bother memorizing every minor house. That he could recall Derek's name at all was solely because the man enjoyed the patronage of Melberot, the 6-Star combat mage.

The northern ruler rarely extended his protection so openly—his active involvement in Derek's ennoblement made the name memorable.

From what he'd heard, Derek served as magic tutor to Melberot's beloved daughter Siern, so Kochella hadn't paid much attention.

It was common for prominent nobles to dangle carrots before capable magic tutors to secure their services.

Still, even the"Lone Wolf"Melberot going out of his way to support a tutor for his daughter's education was... unexpected.

"Hmm..."

Kochella stroked his chin pensively. The name felt oddly familiar.

With his sharp memory, he soon placed it.

The man who protected nobles during Duplein's necromancy incident—his contributions had significantly aided Derek's ennoblement.

His name had surfaced again regarding the recent Beltus Mansion incident.

'Too many coincidences to dismiss.'

A 4-Star mage within years of his coming-of-age ceremony—this spoke volumes.

In Kochella's knowledge, only two living individuals had achieved such rapid magical advancement: Melberot and Drest.

By any measure, this was an extraordinary feat.

'Once the imperial court publicly awards his merit medal, things will get noisy. I'd prefer meeting him beforehand.'

A 4-Star mage stood at quasi-family-head level.

At that stage, the imperial court personally tracked each individual, presenting merit medals as congratulations and recognition.

Of course, these medals carried multiple meanings.

They implied:"You're now under imperial oversight—don't act recklessly."

"The southwestern nobility's situation was already unstable—another quasi-family-head level mage emerging carries significant implications. I should visit Evelstein soon—investigate the Beltus Mansion incident too."

Kochella chuckled darkly.

This elderly grandmage was magic-obsessed—his passion so extreme it overshadowed taboos and morality.

Feeling like he'd discovered a kindred spirit, his smile turned sinister.

Major political shifts were rippling through Evelstein's noble district, centered around Rosea Salon.

Two developments dominated:

The faltering Beltus family, and two rising powers.

The southwestern continent's traditional triumvirate comprised Duplein, Beltus, and Belmierd.

Yet as Duplein and Beltus stumbled through necromantic scandals, the Renuel Count family—led by Rodentz Island's hero—was rising.

Producing a 4-Star mage (quasi-family-head level) wouldn't normally impact politics—but the barony's lord being a slum-born commoner shocked everyone.

-"Heard? Ravenclaw Barony's title might be elevated."

-"Emperor Gertrel himself mentioned the name... Truly remarkable."

In Elfontaine Hall's academic debate room—amid Rosea Salon's gatherings—two noble ladies whispered.

Diela Catherine Duplein, the family's youngest, sat slumped in a corner, chin propped as she eavesdropped.

Derek's reputation as a magic tutor had long been established.

His Ravenclaw Training Institute thrived, with noble ladies under his tutelage showing visible improvement.

Having risen from nothing through magic alone, his teaching methods were uniquely accessible and efficient.

Now reaching 4-Star status—earning imperial attention—his prestige soared further.

-"Ravenclaw Training Institute's on break now... but come spring, they'll accept new students, right?"

-"I've already spoken to mother. While Rosea Salon offers much, combining it with the institute's curriculum seems ideal for magical growth."

Evelstein's noble district remained the southwestern social epicenter, with Rosea Salon its premier academy.

Yet even here, noble ladies increasingly sought Derek's tutelage.

Trends emerged swiftly—fall behind, and you're obsolete.

Though Derek had many students since founding his institute, only four counted as direct disciples—now regarded as his greatest achievements.

Duplein's Diela.

Belmierd's Elente.

Beltus's Denise.

Rocheste's Siern.

Each so exceptional that Derek's future influence over southwestern nobility seemed inevitable.

In short—Derek was gaining authority.

Evelstein's noble ladies noticed first.

"Um... Lady Diela."

This influence manifested strangely around Diela too.

"I-I'm sorry about before... Lady Diela..."

"..."

As Diela glared wolfishly, a formerly quarrelsome lady bowed awkwardly.

Diela was dumbfounded—she'd feuded with so many she couldn't recall this one.

Peerless under heaven—no phrase better described Diela.

In all Evelstein, only Aiselin and Derek could control this wildcat.

With both busy, no one restrained this tyrant.

From petty squabbles to salon seating disputes to childish bullying—Diela never backed down from challenges. The result? Many enemies.

Yet suddenly, her most arrogant rival was bowing.

"I... I think I misunderstood you..."

"...What's your game?"

"N-no game! Just... hoping to reconcile..."

Diela's mere presence felt growlingly predatory.

Fierce, uncontrollable—seeming ready to bare fangs and maul.

She'd casually overturn tea or slap faces—a rabid beast.

Yet despite trembling, the lady remained bowed.

Diela understood—noble ladies obsessed with power dynamics didn't bow without reason.

'They want Derek's connection.'

While Derek taught all institute students diligently, his four direct disciples received special treatment—life guidance beyond magic.

Enduring minor humiliations seemed worthwhile for that privilege.

"..."

Naturally, feral Diela wouldn't indulge such transparent motives.

She smirked, veins bulging on her forehead.

Placing hands on the lady's shoulders, she whispered:

"Wanna die?"

"..."

"Thought I'd smile and play along? Hoping I'd introduce you to Derek?"

Diela wasn't generous enough to share her teacher.

Already frustrated from rarely seeing him, such provocations worsened her mood.

"Wrong approach. But I'll humor you—get lost."

With a hollow laugh, she stomped from the salon.

Crossing Elfontaine Hall's corridor, Diela scowled.

Increasingly, people sought Derek's connections.

The surest path was through his four disciples—but Diela had zero interest playing gatekeeper.

Why help others?

Life's unpredictability—who could foresee its twists?

The southwestern continent's political landscape had churned dramatically in recent years.

Duplein, once dominating the world, faltered—now Beltus's future grew uncertain.

Duplein's crisis had passed, leaving them weakened—yet stabilizing.

Wealth lasts three generations even in ruin.

Liquidating assets and rallying relatives made survival possible.

Still, their mansion and retainers halved—their territory nibbled by frontier nobles to a pitiful shadow.

Raeg, as family head, struggled valiantly—but reversing decline proved beyond him.

Duplein seemed destined to fade into history.

Until Aiselin rolled up her sleeves.

"Hello, brother. I brought money."

"......"

Raeg, having inherited Duplein's leadership, gaped at Aiselin dropping a leather pouch heavy with gold coins.

"This is my share from Ravenclaw Training Institute's profits, and some private tutoring fees. Paid in high-purity Altram gold—we'll need exchange for Evelstein."

"...."

"Next month's retainer wages are covered... and we can fully repay the mansion restoration loans this month. Relatives'loans were repaid last month... Should replenish militia equipment and reclaim some pawned artworks."

Ever diligent at Ravenclaw Training Institute, Aiselin.

When she first brought meager earnings to help restore their house, Raeg nearly wept.

Mired in lethargy and nihilism, seeing Aiselin scrimp every silver to rebuild Duplein shocked him to sense.

-'It's not much, but I want to help Duplein. I believe you'll end your wandering and lead us again.'

Smiling brightly while fulfilling her duties, Aiselin might be Duplein's strongest member.

Inspired by her efforts, Raeg gradually resumed his responsibilities—managing retainers, seeking external aid, restoring Duplein's prestige.

Grateful to his sister, he strived to repay her dedication.

But...

- Clink

The sums grew... unusual...

"This month's magic tool sales from Ravenclaw Training Institute did well. Thankfully, Derek shared some profits."

"...How much is this...?"

"Not sure... Haven't counted, but enough for this month's mansion expenses."

"...This exceeds that. By far."

"Oh. Should we expand the stables? Hire more gardeners..."

"..."

Once brawny during Duplein's prime, Raeg now looked haggard.

Staring at Aiselin—her complexion glowing, demeanor brighter than Duplein's heyday—she seemed at life's peak.

He knew his sister was capable—but not this much.

Exaggerating slightly, she was feeding Duplein.

"Ravenclaw Barony is... more prosperous than I thought."

"Absolutely. I can pursue my aspirations while helping Duplein—what greater happiness?"

"Helping"was an understatement—she was carrying them.

Raeg wiped his face, unsure how to respond. A ducal house relying on a barony felt... awkward.

- Creak

"Sister Aiselin! You're back!"

"Diela! As lovely as ever! I've missed you!"

"Y-yes..."

Diela returned from Evelstein's social circuits to the head's office.

Though usually irritable at Rosea Salon, around Aiselin she became docile—eyes softening.

Anyone knowing the fierce Diela would gape at this lamb-like transformation.

Aiselin cheerfully hugged Diela's voluminous golden hair.

Nuzzling Aiselin's chest, Diela shyly averted her gaze.

"I heard. Ravenclaw Barony clashed with Beltus."

"Yes. Derek resolved it, but was badly injured—convalescing now."

"B-badly injured?"

"I worried greatly, but he's past the worst. He'll recuperate over winter and resume teaching come spring."

Diela grew anxious.

Derek would stake his life for magical progress—she knew this well.

Unconsciously, she fidgeted.

"Don't fret. He plans to visit Duplein Mansion once recovered."

"D-Derek's coming?"

"Yes. He mentioned discussing magical matters with Raeg..."

Raeg looked puzzled—he and Derek had little connection.

But with Aiselin at Ravenclaw Training Institute and Duplein indebted to the barony's growth—Derek couldn't be slighted.

Raeg sank into thought.

He wasn't the only one.

'Derek... is coming...?'

Diela clutched her head, flustered.

Meeting Derek again—how should she act?

Though they'd reunited before, Derek always unsettled her.

His status had changed since their first meeting.

Now with dazzling disciples like Elente, Denise, and Siern—each extraordinary—she felt pressured to impress.