Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 168

A noble's mansion buried in snow is perpetually gloomy by nature.

Living day after day in such a place, even the most vivacious and spirited person would inevitably grow somber and melancholic.

It became somewhat clear why Melberot had gone so far as to use his influence to send Sirine to the southwestern continent. This was no place for a young girl to grow up.

The annex hall where occasional snowflakes drifted in.

On the fur-covered sofa before the large fireplace sat an emaciated man who had claimed his spot.

- Crackle, crackle

Even the sound of the firewood burning was part of the northern winter.

In Rocheste Territory where winter was the only season, the sound of burning logs was as familiar as daily life itself.

"..."

Derek swallowed dryly and stole another glance at the gaunt man.

His detection magic had already reached the peak of 3-Star rank. He could instantly gauge the magical prowess of anyone below his level.

If Derek couldn't immediately discern the man's attainment, it meant he was either comparable or superior.

A presence where the aura of inherent magic power was palpable, yet its depth remained unfathomable.

As Derek strained his eyes against this sensation of standing before an immense mountain, the man spoke in an unexpectedly relaxed tone:

"I have many questions about Sirine. As the one who's been closest to teaching her recently, you'd know her current state better than anyone."

"..."

"Won't you sit across from me? It must be cold by the door."

No introduction whatsoever.

It was obvious from first glance that this was no ordinary individual. Still, Derek hadn't expected him to withhold even the most basic identification.

Derek quietly closed his eyes, then reopened them before slowly moving to the opposite sofa.

In those few steps, Derek's mind accelerated rapidly to organize his thoughts.

A man who could roam Rocheste Mansion where Lord Melberot resided as if it were his own home. The servants didn't dare meet his gaze and were clearly mindful of his presence—proof that Melberot had firmly acknowledged his authority within the territory.

Moreover, his magical attainment was so profound that its limits couldn't be discerned.

However, the peculiar magical energy clinging to his right shoulder was distinctly different in nature. Undoubtedly necromantic energy. Having spent so much time with Phee, Derek recognized it immediately.

Melberot would never keep a necromancer this close. Therefore, it was more accurate to say this man had been affected by necromancy rather than being a practitioner himself.

Combined with his sudden interest in Sirine, an unexpected conclusion emerged.

From their first meeting to walking together to the annex and sitting before the fire—just that brief moment.

Though they hadn't exchanged much significant information, Derek brushed snow from his boots and spoke as he sat down:

"To personally meet the Grand Mage whom the world believed dead—I couldn't ask for greater honor."

At these words, Kalimford's eyebrow twitched slightly.

Without saying a word, this magic teacher from Evelstain had pierced through his identity.

Kalimford slowly blinked once before responding in an even lower tone:

"Quite imaginative. Are you suggesting the dead have returned to life?"

"Lady Phee's magic, I presume. After being resurrected, you came to the territory of your old friend Lord Melberot."

"...Perceptive. Melberot likes sharp people. Now I see why you're teaching Sirine."

Kalimford picked up a log with his frail arm and tossed it into the fireplace.

- Crackle!

The burning wood seemed to symbolize what remained of his life.

Kalimford had lived like a flame, burning himself to save the world.

Thus ended the life of a hero who became legend.

His distant eyes watched the flickering fire several times before finally turning to Derek.

Derek sensed it then.

This was a man with whom he needed to have a long conversation.

- Step, step.

Two men walked side by side down the corridor of Rocheste Mansion's main building.

They differed in age, stature, status, and affiliation—yet their solemn expressions and purposeful strides made them seem like old acquaintances sharing deep history.

Kalimford had offered to take time to evaluate Derek's magic.

On their way to the dueling grounds.

Suddenly, a familiar-looking girl appeared at the far end of the corridor.

To Kalimford, time seemed to slow in that moment.

As his eyes widened briefly, even the snow hitting the windows, the swaying hem of the girl's dress, and the cold draft brushing his cheeks all seemed to move in slow motion.

"Oh! Derek!"

Sirine seemed unusually cheerful upon returning to her family home.

This was the same Sirine known across the north as a beastly murderer. Yet seeing her walking demurely down the corridor in a pretty dress, no one would guess she was the girl from those rumors.

Though cold-blooded and sharp-edged in all things, she had diligently learned noble etiquette.

Compared to her days confined in the spire, she had truly become worthy of being called a lady.

As she approached with graceful steps, servants still unaccustomed to her new demeanor hurried after her with trembling hands.

They could hardly believe the girl who once splattered blood when displeased had transformed so completely.

"This dress I carefully picked got ruined by bloodstains. Took forever to change."

"What you're wearing now suits you perfectly."

"Really? Wonder if Father will like it."

Despite her words, she seemed excited.

In this moment, she looked like any ordinary girl her age.

"..."

Having finished dressing, she seemed headed to the reception room to chat with Melberot.

Her buoyant steps made this obvious enough.

After looking at Derek with sparkling eyes, her gaze shifted to the gaunt man beside him.

Her tilted head clearly asked who this was.

A shabby-looking man walking freely through the meticulously ordered ducal mansion without anyone stopping him.

An appearance bound to arouse anyone's curiosity.

As Derek hesitated how to respond, Kalimford knelt on one knee to meet Sirine's eye level.

With a gentle smile unlike any he'd shown before, he spoke slowly:

"An old friend of Lord Melberot. Just a worthless commoner, so no need for formalities. It's an honor to meet the famous Lady Sirine in person."

"Father's friend? A commoner? Hmm... I suppose you couldn't wander Rocheste Mansion otherwise."

"Just as I heard—dignified yet composed, with noble grace. Truly beautiful."

"Spare the flattery. I know the rumors about me being a murderer in the north better than anyone."

Sirine snorted nonchalantly, then straightened her posture proudly.

"Still... if you're Father's friend, even a commoner deserves respect. I apologize if I seemed rude."

The nearby servants gaped at Sirine as if witnessing the impossible.

They'd heard she'd been learning magic and ladylike manners in Ravenclaw Barony, but none expected such transformation.

Baron Ravenclaw was rumored to be at the forefront of noble education, but this exceeded all expectations.

"Welcome to Rocheste Territory. It's nothing but snow, but has its own charm."

"As you say. These snowfields appear harsh, yet possess a nurturing quality."

"You know your stuff. You're calm like... the open snowfields after a blizzard."

Sirine deliberately curved her lips upward, offering Kalimford this compliment.

"Well, I should go see Father now... Let's talk again sometime."

Eager to meet Melberot, Sirine lifted her dress hem and walked away.

"See you later, Derek!"

Her lively footsteps echoed softly down the corridor.

The fluttering dress hem resembled unfolding flower petals.

A whirlwind of a girl who suddenly appears, sweeps through her surroundings, and vanishes.

Her figure remains petite, with much to learn, many inner wounds, and likely more scars to accumulate in life.

Yet she's learned to speak with dignity and confidence, to brush aside past hurts and stride boldly forward.

That brief exchange revealed glimpses of the harsh life she must have lived.

And the certainty that she had overcome it to live her life with quiet strength.

At least her world no longer faced earth-shaking wars or continent-devouring magical beasts.

"..."

Though Sirine had long disappeared down the corridor, Kalimford remained kneeling on the floor.

Derek stood quietly for a moment before speaking to him:

"As you see, she still has much to learn, but she's grown splendidly."

"..."

"She'll join the dinner after meeting with Lord Melberot. You can ask more about her life then."

"..."

Kalimford didn't respond to Derek's words.

Instead, he knelt with both knees on the floor, face still bowed, hands pressed against the ground.

Soon, his back began to tremble.

Watching this man who'd suddenly buried his face in the corridor floor unable to rise, Derek refrained from pressing further.

How ironic.

Though he may have been a legendary figure who overturned the world, stood above all others, and had his name praised by every mage.

In the end, what saved him was simply seeing a young girl walk healthy and alive down a corridor.

The dueling grounds were still far ahead, but Derek simply watched the snow falling quietly outside the window.

There was plenty of time.