Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 142

Derek returned from the Beltus affair in a truly pitiable state.

One arm was tightly wrapped in bandages with a splint, an eyepatch covered the bruise on his eyelid, he limped noticeably, and his magical power had significantly diminished—clear signs of pushing his body to the limit in an attempt to breach the 4-star barrier.

By all rights, injuries like these should have been fatal, but Derek's childhood resilience to pain and wounds allowed him to endure.

That he could still walk and function at all was miraculous.

"Lady Denise seems poised to take the lead in reorganizing Beltus Manor. Since I've already clarified my position, there shouldn't be further issues."

"Seeing my beloved disciple battered and limping about wounds this master's heart."

"It'd be more convincing if you said that without grinning."

The sight of their lord returning in such a state sent Ravenclaw's retainers into a flurry, immediately ushering Derek to his private quarters while scrambling to gather medicinal herbs and restorative foods—their concern bordering on excessive.

Perched on his bed, Derek unwound the bandages around his arm with practiced motions.

The blood-soaked wrappings needed replacement, though he could have summoned a maid. Years of mercenary life had ingrained the habit of tending to his own wounds.

"How does the new realm feel? Maddening, isn't it?"

"Honestly, I've been absurdly giddy. Laughing like an idiot at nothing—it's embarrassing."

"Hmm, hmm... Well, I've gained much myself... Truly a sweeping victory."

Phee lounged on the windowsill.

To outsiders, the sight would appear perilous, but those aware of the girl's true nature knew worrying about her was pointless.

"So, made any progress with summoning magic?"

"Hard to say. I grasp the principles well enough, but wielding high-tier summoning spells seems beyond me. Guess I'm just not cut out for summoning."

"No need to force what doesn't come naturally. As I said, mastering the basics across disciplines is enough."

Phee smirked, eyeing Derek with half-lidded amusement.

"With a teacher like me, you broke through the 4-star barrier in no time. Ordinary geniuses need decades of effort for that, you know?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"...Wish you'd at least pretend wounded pride when I tease you. No fun at all."

Phee exhaled dramatically before resting her chin on her hands to gaze outside.

Overnight snow had blanketed the landscape—winter was in full swing.

"About that Arch Lich at the manor..."

"Ah, Happy?"

"...?"

"Poor thing got badly hurt. Feels like just yesterday I was cuddling that cute little—now look how big and scary..."

Imagining that blood-drenched monstrosity corrupting the mansion made the name choice questionable.

Derek chose not to comment.

"It took the Duke's corpse and disappeared."

"...Problem?"

Phee, a 6-star necromancer, sought to perfect high-level corpse resurrection.

Derek knew this required powerful mages'remains, though not her exact motives. Hence his probing—to which Phee surprisingly answered plainly.

"I intend to revive Kalimford. Requires certain... preparations."

Resurrecting a 6-star mage was no trivial feat.

"We had a promise. Not that you need concern yourself."

"..."

Derek bit back further questions.

Mentioning Kalimford always made Phee strangely wistful. Prying into their ancient pact seemed unwise.

Indeed, Phee changed topics as if to say"no more."

"Now that you've breached 4-star, you'll be busier. So much to master."

"True, but winter break means handling academy preparations too. First, I must visit Duplein—after recovering."

"A man who nearly died shouldn't be gallivanting about."

"Too much to do."

Chewing his lip, Derek studied the sprawling continental map on the table.

While territories and factions were roughly marked, the southwest required significant updates.

4-star mages stood at quasi-family-head level.

Progressing further demanded attention to neighboring nobles'movements and imperial politics—their influence now substantial enough to shift dynamics.

Reaching 5-star would require solidifying Derek's power base, especially after Duke Beltus'hostility proved how quickly opposition could arise.

Derek planned to establish an environment where he could focus solely on magic.

"Much to do. Refining my new 4-star abilities, preparing next semester's curriculum, finalizing alliances..."

"Oh? Alliances?"

"With Beltus weakened and Duplein struggling, no better time exists for major realignment."

The southwest's traditional powers were Duplein, Belmierd, and Beltus—with Renuel and Ravenclaw emerging.

Derek envisioned uniting these five houses.

Nobles'territorial obsessions usually prevented cooperation, but Derek's connections with each house's key figures positioned him uniquely as a unifying force.

Success would transform his standing from regional to continental significance—forcing even Emperor Gertrel and Imperial Magic Advisor Kochella to acknowledge him.

No petty factions would dare oppose him then.

'Then I can focus entirely on magical advancement.'

This required ensuring allied houses'stability.

Belmierd would thrive regardless—Count Belmierd planned to cede power to Elente.

Beltus would rebuild under Denise, Rovenalt, and Orel—a long winter ahead. Little aid could be given during this upheaval.

That left Duplein.

"Investment, you say?"

"Yes. The academy needs expansion, but relying solely on grants limits stability and space."

Raeg sighed—Derek remained an enigma.

First a tutor for Diela, now a baron with an academy—achieving 4-star before returning battered. Every meeting made him more inscrutable.

In Duplein's restored audience chamber, Derek presented his case to the family head.

"Frankly, Duplein lacks resources for major investments. Aiselin barely covers maintenance with academy profits—what more can we give?"

"Not necessarily money. Land, personnel, authority—many options exist."

Raeg sat solemnly on the lord's dais, flanked by Aiselin and Diela. Senior retainers lined the walls, baffled by Derek's intent.

"The academy's growth will soon outpace its capacity. My 4-star status attracts more students than we can accommodate."

"Then..."

"We should upgrade from a training institute to a full-fledged school."

Derek's face showed peculiar contentment.

The academy bolstered his influence—shaping future nobility provided undeniable political leverage. He simply hadn't anticipated this scale.

"So you'll..."

Aiselin trembled visibly.

Expansion.

Transitioning to a proper school meant more facilities, students, and investments.

Which meant—more work.

Revised budgets, land acquisition, construction plans, staffing, maintenance—an exhausting prospect.

Yet Aiselin's eyes sparkled.

"So much... work to do...! Mountains of tasks...!"

Her unsettling enthusiasm made Derek and Raeg gulp.

Raeg had witnessed Aiselin's transformation firsthand.

The once-elegant noblewoman now rolled up her sleeves at every opportunity, becoming practically addicted to labor.

Where was the lily gracing the gardens? In her place stood an industrial workhorse in fine dresses.

Though lamenting the change, Raeg couldn't deny she seemed happy.

"Raeg... Aiselin unnie's eyes look scary..."

"It's fine, Diela. We should be used to this by now..."

Even the usually fierce Diela reverted to youngest-sibling meekness here, sweating at Aiselin's workload anticipation.

"A Duplein branch then?"

"With fair profit-sharing. Done right, this could revive Duplein."

Raeg stroked his chin thoughtfully.

Ravenclaw Academy's meteoric rise was common knowledge. Some speculated Evelstein's noble district might soon be eclipsed by Ravenclaw's territory.

Duplein's involvement could prove invaluable.

'Strange. This benefits Duplein overwhelmingly. No reason to refuse.'

Yet Raeg felt uneasy—why would Derek extend such generosity?

As Derek concluded, the decision rested with Raeg.

Retainers calculated silently while his beloved sisters watched expectantly—already won over.

Aiselin and Diela.

Their brightness had sustained Duplein through dark times. With both supporting Derek, refusal was difficult.

"Given our debts to Ravenclaw, refusal isn't an option."

Raeg agreed readily before adding:

"But we'll need input on specifics. Establishing facilities here requires careful consideration."

"Major construction will be Duplein's domain."

"Good."

Aiselin and Diela visibly brightened, thrilled at collaborating with Derek.

Watching them, Raeg realized soberly:

'Our flowers have been plucked by this young baron.'

Though inexperienced in such matters, even Raeg could see his sisters'affections.

"Derek! If classes are held here... can I attend? Better than Rosea Salon's tedious philosophy..."

Their eager questioning left Raeg with mixed feelings.

'...But doesn't Ravenclaw have romantic entanglements already?'

Watching his sisters'animated expressions, Raeg swallowed dryly.

'Thorny paths await you, dear sisters...'

Whether to encourage or dissuade them—he couldn't decide.

Thus began concrete plans for Ravenclaw Academy's Duplein branch, ensuring Derek's schedule would grow busier.

Naturally, Aiselin would handle most duties during his stay.

"Duplein's fertile lands suit a campus, though reduced from our prime..."

"Lady Aiselin would know ideal locations."

"Yes! And staffing requires..."

Post-meeting, Aiselin animatedly discussed plans with Derek.

"..."

Trailing behind them, Diela smoothed her golden locks while observing quietly.

She'd prepared extensively for this reunion—outfits selected, conversation topics rehearsed, even losing sleep over complexion concerns.

Yet Derek spent the entire day discussing logistics with Aiselin.

Logically understandable—Aiselin was key academy staff. With Derek's workload, neglecting Diela was inevitable.

But it stung nonetheless.

Watching Derek engage so intently with Aiselin while maintaining only mentor-student formality with her created an odd distance.

Aiselin Eleanor Duplein—Diela's beloved elder sister.

The fierce young lioness who bared fangs at the world became a meek kitten before her graceful sister.

Yet now, unfamiliar envy stirred.

Diela puffed her cheeks in frustration.