Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 165

"Derek, who is this brat?"

Malignant aura swirled in Phee's eyes.

Like a girl of that age desperately clinging to her only treasure, her gaze brimmed with venomous intensity.

The scene had unfolded too abruptly. Katia was just gathering her bewildered thoughts to assess the situation when—

- Kaaang!

- Crack!

The impossibly rapid surge of magic left no time to react.

Crimson mist erupted from Phee's core, instantly coiling around Katia's body and lifting her into the air.

The deathly grip constricting her neck, arms, and waist made even breathing arduous.

"Ghk! Hahk...! Keuk!"

Katia was a mage on the cusp of 4th-Class. Though overshadowed by Derek's unnatural growth, she remained a formidable magic practitioner by any standard.

Yet before Phee, she couldn't even present her credentials.

A human manipulating magic at speeds beyond perception.

At that moment, Katia realized the bloodstained girl was no ordinary figure.

Not merely a high-ranking mage.

Seeing the restless spirits swirling around her, Katia's eyes widened.

'A necromancer!'

Though shocked, no sound escaped her throat.

The magical pressure crushing her body threatened to shatter her bones at any moment.

"Surely this fool isn't the mentor you revered so much? Hah, what a pathetic joke. Weak magic, sluggish reflexes, low attainment. Derek, listen carefully. Learning from such mediocrity will keep you stagnant forever."

"Hahk... keuk... ghh..."

"Oh? Your features seem familiar upon closer inspection. Hmm... Some brat from eastern high society, wasn't it? Katia, Katia... Yes, I believe we've met."

"What... nonsense..."

"What was my name back then... Amy? Lani? No... Catlan, wasn't it? Yes, it must've been Catlan."

Hearing that name made Katia's pupils dilate further.

Catlan. A name she'd only heard in childhood. A noble debutante she'd met while preparing for her own societal debut.

A passing acquaintance who'd shared some magical knowledge and listened to her youthful worries.

"How the years have flown. The Flameheart family's little brat playing mentor now. But you should've chosen a disciple matching your station. This imbecile."

"You... who exactly..."

"Don't pry too deeply. But Derek's lingering affection for you seems to cloud his judgment. If you truly care for him, you'd understand that wasting his time under your tutelage does him no favors."

- Crunch, crack.

"Your existence will only hinder Derek. Lingering attachments will squander his precious time. So for the sake of your beloved disciple, I hope you'll understand even if your neck snaps here."

As Phee tightened her grip on the magical noose, Katia struggled for breath.

But Phee's direct magical output remained immovable. The gulf between their magical prowess couldn't be bridged through mere effort.

Phee's blood-streaked face resembled a monstrous apparition gazing down.

Her lips curled in ecstatic glee between crimson stains. For the sole purpose of monopolizing Derek as her disciple, she was prepared to snap Katia's spine.

- Kwaak! Crack!

- Whoosh!

Yet the magic restraining Katia instantly dispersed under interference from another magical force.

- Crash! Boom!

"Hahk! Keuk! Hahk... hahk!"

Katia collapsed to the floor gasping as Derek rushed to her side.

She appeared largely unharmed.

"Are you alright?"

"Keuhk... hahk... Yes, Derek... I'm fine..."

Derek's transformation magic had instantly scattered Phee's necromantic energy into the atmosphere.

Witnessing this, Phee momentarily froze. Though aware of Derek's rapid growth, she hadn't anticipated him countering her necromancy.

"Derek... You've learned to dismantle your master's magic...!"

"Miss Phee. What happened in Tigris Territory?"

Derek brushed residual magic from his hands as he stood, his expression complex beneath forced composure.

"Happened? What does that matter? Whatever occurred in Tigris is irrelevant now."

"I don't know what shocking event you experienced, but you're clearly not thinking straight. Please remain calm and collected."

"Derek, I've never been clearer. My thoughts have never been more lucid. Everything makes perfect sense now. Derek... you must trust me."

- Whoooosh!

Sinister magic once again spread through the office from Phee.

Her bloodstained dress fluttered as her hair billowed wildly.

Moonlight streaming through the window seemed to illuminate her alone.

Drenched in blood under the pale glow, she embodied living death itself.

"Derek... You're my one and only disciple... Trust and follow your master... I'll elevate you to greater heights..."

- Crack!

Phee clenched her fist, plunging the room into darkness.

Endless shadows swallowed the office whole, creating the sensation of being sucked into an abyss.

Derek lowered his stance slightly, magic at the ready while supporting the weakened Katia.

The hostility in his eyes was unmistakably directed at Phee.

- Whoosh!

Amid the magical turbulence, Phee locked eyes with Derek and froze.

Derek viewed her as an enemy.

As if sobered by this realization, she dispersed her magic and spoke meekly.

"Derek... Why... why do you look at me like that?"

"..."

"I'm doing this for you. My one and only disciple Derek... It's all for you..."

"Miss Phee."

"I told you to call me Master."

"I advised you to remain calm, Miss Phee."

When Derek drew this clear line, Phee swallowed dryly, visibly shaken.

Grabbing fistfuls of her lavender hair, she spoke in a creeping whisper:

"Derek... You belong under me. No one else's disciple—only mine."

"..."

"Ah... Yes... But... Your immaturity leaves room for confusion."

The atmosphere shifted as Phee emitted several hollow laughs before smiling benevolently at Derek supporting Katia.

"Yes, of course. Playing mentor with such a mediocre woman might be a valuable experience. As a good master, I'll respect your judgment. With eternity at my disposal, I can patiently observe my disciple's wanderings."

The usual Phee never appeared this cornered or verbose.

Witnessing her abrupt transformation, Derek's mind raced.

"Indeed. A master should tolerate foolishness. When you realize how pointless it is playing teacher with that incompetent, you'll return to your true place in my arms."

- Rustle! Whoosh!

Phee's crimson magic coalesced into countless bat-like shapes swarming around her.

Nestled among them, she gazed at Derek with loving eyes.

"You're my one and only. Never forget. Staying in my embrace serves you best."

"..."

"When this meaningless rebellion ends, come to Tigris Territory anytime. Your only master will be waiting, tenderly stroking pretty corpses in anticipation."

The weight of her affection bordered on terror.

A single drop of that clinging devotion could pollute the entire room.

Something had clearly happened in Tigris Territory.

As Derek opened his mouth to speak—

- Flutter! Whoosh!

The bat swarm dissolved into magic, vanishing with Phee.

"..."

Only the blood-spattered office remained.

Katia clutching a chairback while gasping, servants rushing in alarmed.

Amid the chaos, Derek stood frowning.

"Derek, that girl just now—"

"My other mentor I mentioned. As you witnessed, a necromancer."

"..."

Katia was rendered speechless.

That Derek learned magic from a necromancer was beyond shocking—it defied belief.

Even without practicing necromancy himself, association alone constituted a capital offense.

Leaning against the reception sofa, Katia massaged her temples as dizziness set in.

"How... how could this..."

"It's complicated to explain, but regardless, Master Katia should exercise caution."

After restoring order to the office, the situation remained precarious.

'She went to Tigris Territory to resurrect Kalimford. Did she fail?'

Derek believed Phee had perfected her advanced corpse resurrection.

Yet the Phee he saw appeared emotionally shattered, as if bereft of something vital.

Attempting to replace that loss, she'd fixated unnaturally on Derek.

Understanding this sequence deepened Derek's grave expression.

"Derek, I have many questions."

For now, explaining the circumstances to Katia took priority.

"♩ ♬ ♩"

Humming cheerfully.

Returned to Tigris Territory, Phee skipped merrily among the servants.

Her carefree expression, as if unburdened of some great weight, might strike those who knew her as dangerously unstable.

But to oblivious territory residents, she simply appeared in high spirits.

Her eyes darker than usual.

Servants greeted the humming Phee.

-'Lovely weather today. Spring must be coming.'

Phee responded brightly.

-'Yes, lovely weather.'

The moment she finished speaking, blood gushed from the servants'faces.

The modest Tigris Barony mansion.

As the continent's foremost necromancer walked past gesturing idly, blossoms of crimson bloomed in her wake.

Crimson magic flooded the corridors, twisting the minds of all who crossed its path.

Phee's skipping steps carried equal measures of madness and euphoria.

"You'll return to me eventually, Derek."

Through countless cycles, she'd met few mages with both Derek's vast potential and pure passion for magic.

Derek would inevitably seek higher magical realms through her.

Confident in this, Phee began painting Tigris Barony in blood—like preparing a home for an expected guest.

Like a seasoned conductor leading an orchestra, each wave of her hand filled the mansion with corpses.

All obedient to Phee's will.

"Proper teaching requires proper preparation. Let's beautify the estate. Prepare training grounds, expand spaces. Eliminate anything that might disrupt this sanctuary."

No unfinished business remained in Tigris Barony. Everything would be gathered and perfected under her control.

Thorny vines coiled around the mansion as eerie energy blanketed the area.

Tigris Barony steadily transformed into a necromantic stronghold.

Unlike Beltus Ducal Manor, its smaller size and remote location ensured slower exposure.

Buying Phee time to fully claim this territory.

- Whoosh!

Phee's rampage was inevitable. Derek had known this.

Yet its direction had diverged from his expectations.

"Derek... Though eternity stretches before me... don't make me wait too long..."

Curled on a throne amidst thorn-choked ruins, she whispered to herself.

The darkness in her eyes deepened further.

- Whooooosh!

Northern snowfields of Rocheste Ducal Manor.

Melberot exhaled heavily while surveying his territory on horseback, breath misting in the gloomy sky.

Having sent his daughter southwest, he remained managing the territory.

Curiosity about Sirine's wellbeing grew daily. Though reluctant by nature to write letters.

As he gazed across snowy plains lost in thought, snowflakes filled his vision.

While deliberating, movement appeared on the distant horizon.

"..."

Someone staggered through the brutal cold wrapped only in rags.

Crossing these frozen wastes on foot defied reason.

Sensing something amiss, Melberot narrowed his eyes, activating detection magic to identify the approaching figure.

"Lord Melberot. Someone approaches from the snowfields."

"Yes, I see them."

As Melberot focused, the silhouette struck him as oddly familiar.

When recognition dawned, his eyes widened.

Though emaciated, wounded, and withered—those features were forever etched in his memory.

The visage of the late Grand Mage Kalimford.