Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 169

"Father. It's been a long time. We have much to discuss."

Seeing Sirine gracefully lifting her skirt hem in greeting, Melberot was uncharacteristically sweating buckets.

He'd just witnessed her blood-soaked appearance moments earlier.

It was impossible not to recall the wild version of Sirine from those days. Even the servants were visibly tense.

Yet the neatly composed Sirine before them now was the very picture of a proper lady. Less than a year had passed since her arrival at Ravenclaw Barony.

'I knew he was capable, but what kind of magic did he use?'

Melberot stroked his chin with an awkward expression.

For the cold-blooded northern lord to show such a reaction was truly unusual.

Magic forms the foundation of nobility, a symbol of privilege. Thus no noble treats their estate's magical training facilities lightly.

For servants too, maintaining magical facilities always remains the highest priority.

This seemed equally true for Rocheste Mansion embedded in the northern snowfields.

Though the entire estate brimmed with defensive measures against its surroundings, the dueling grounds were maintained as impeccably as the main hall at the entrance—a space of equal grandeur.

Across the vast area, a gaunt man leaned heavily on an oversized oak staff.

His appearance suggested he might dissolve into the snow at any moment.

Despite the fragile impression, Derek adjusted his gloves with tense precision.

"Apologies for the unsightly display. But duty calls regardless."

The mage's appearance matched his legendary portraits exactly.

Mousy brown unkempt hair streaked with gray.

Eyes barely maintaining their territory between drooping lids, pupils seemingly drained of vitality.

No matter how many times confirmed, seeing that shabby figure made doubt resurface.

Could this truly be the grand mage who once commanded the world? That brittle form looked like it would shatter from a single misstep—was he really capable of withstanding Derek's magic?

Yet Kalimford spoke:

"My body's not what it was, nor can I wield full magical power. Lingering necromantic traces affect me, and my vision feels... diminished..."

His words sounded pitiful, but what followed was the opposite.

"Still, come at me with intent to kill."

"..."

"Too much pointless concern. Planning to hold back against a dead ghost who's already vanished once?"

Appearance and aura often differ.

Despite the fragile exterior, his gaze pulsed with peculiar pressure.

His words rang true. None exist who can hold back against a 6-star mage.

As if proving this, he simply waited motionless, gripping the massive staff as tall as himself for Derek's attack.

'...First he wants to assess my level.'

Derek inhaled sharply, focusing his gaze.

Magic power instantly bloomed around him, coalescing into a massive current that gathered at his fingertips.

A dozen flaming arrows materialized midair before streaking toward Kalimford.

- Whoosh!

Yet Kalimford neither blocked nor reacted.

The fire arrows simply stopped dead near him before dropping lifelessly to the ground.

The sensation of magic itself being swallowed whole.

Most mages lose fighting spirit upon realizing their magic cannot touch the opponent.

- Thud!

But Derek's eyes as he closed the distance burned with pure killing intent.

'The throwing daggers were to test whether physical projectiles are also affected by his magic dominance?'

And upon confirming even weapons fail, he immediately resorts to melee—the last option.

The seamless judgment took mere seconds. Unthinkable adaptability for someone facing Kalimford for the first time.

When magic fails, find another way.

Skilled in high-level magic yet not solely reliant on it.

A 4-star mage at this age who hasn't obsessed over magic alone.

The more observed, the more Derek defied measurement.

- Whoosh!

But Kalimford was equally battle-hardened.

Unfazed, he simply swung his staff in a wide arc—the gaunt figure already vanished from that spot.

In its place lingered only a dense magical mist.

'Confusion magic!'

Frowning, Derek halted mid-charge to scan his surroundings.

Simultaneously activating detection magic to sweep the area.

Well-trained detection magic counters confusion spells.

Yet Kalimford's location remained elusive—proof his confusion magic reached at least 4-star level.

Though famed as a combat mage, his mastery extended extraordinarily into other fields.

- Boom! Crash!

Four earthen giants erupted from the ground.

Their grasping hands froze solid from Derek's ice magic before making contact.

Derek's instant freezing spell incorporated his own interpretation of Sirine's magic—its speed could fluster veteran mages.

- Crack! Shatter!

The 3-star freezing spell encasing the arena served dual purposes—neutralizing the giants while pinpointing Kalimford's hidden position.

The sole unfrozen patch within the mist revealed his location.

- Bang!

- Whoosh!

Derek's fastest-cast spell—a fireball—impacted that spot.

So swift it seemed to detonate rather than travel.

- Fizzle!

Yet the dispersing mist revealed nothing.

Kalimford had faked a defensive barrier there to misdirect.

- Thud! Whoosh!

Feinting implied exploiting openings.

As Derek tensed, a dozen fire arrows converged from all directions.

Too late to evade.

Derek lunged forward, wrapping one arm in magic as he rolled.

- Boom! Crash!

His wool jacket's sleeve burned away, but magic-shielded skin remained unharmed.

Though his fingertips bore slight burns regardless.

- Thud! Whoosh!

As Derek rose shaking his hand, Kalimford emerged through smoke opposite.

His pace was leisurely—staff dragging as if taking a casual stroll.

'Those fire arrows were the ones I initially cast.'

His opening volley had returned with delayed timing.

Veteran mages often redirect enemy magic, but this staggered retaliation was unprecedented.

Excitement and curiosity sparked in Derek's eyes as he flexed his hand.

'Kalimford.'

The legendary archmage who once commanded the continent.

'Confusion and summoning magic at minimum 4-star. Detection and transformation nearing 5-star.'

And these were spells casually woven into rapid exchanges—not even his focused efforts.

'While combat magic remains 6-star.'

In his specialty, he stood peerless.

Even past his prime, he remained untouchable.

Facing such a being should inspire awe or terror over competitiveness.

Yet Derek was no ordinary man.

Electricity seemed to race up his spine.

As the gaunt mage shuffled closer dragging his staff, an immense mountain seemed to manifest behind him.

Those piercing eyes locked onto Derek.

'His adaptability to unfamiliar magic exceeds any mercenary's by lightyears.'

'The heavens gifted this man more than mere magical comprehension and learning speed.'

Kalimford similarly kept revising Derek's evaluation upward.

The world spotlighted Derek's magical talent alone, but that wasn't his true worth.

Mercenaries excel at improvisation and countering ambushes—he knew this tiresomely well.

Yet Derek stood exceptional even among them.

None had ever countered Kalimford's magic so adeptly on first encounter. Even Melberot had fallen for it once—though never twice.

'...'

- Shuffle, shuffle.

Kalimford's plan anticipated Derek pausing after the fire arrow counter.

During recovery, he'd explain higher-tier magic manipulation.

Learning Kalimford's methods required abandoning conventional magic approaches entirely.

But all plans shattered.

Derek simply shook his arm and stood ready.

"You reflected my magic? Already spent magic traces?"

"..."

"More like seizing dissipated magic remnants to reconstitute them. Reminds me of the lingering resonance effect from my staff'Footsteps'."

Derek had already grasped the core of Kalimford's magic manipulation.

On first encounter.

"First time seeing it done unaided by magical weapons. Using the opponent's own magic too."

"Better mastered than reliant on gear. No usage limits, and further confounds the enemy."

Reconstituting past spells at will created dizzying variables—forcing opponents to account for every prior cast.

In one-on-one duels, this defied all conventional tactics.

"Recognizing this instantly means you'll advance quickly. Good. My time is limited."

"Huh?"

As Derek responded—

Before the syllable finished, Derek was already airborne.

- Wham!

Somehow raising both arms to guard was already superhuman, but Derek's eyes widened further.

- Crash! Shatter!

- Crack! Snap!

Though slammed into the arena wall, Derek discharged magic to cushion the impact.

"To handle Phee and properly teach Sirine... 4-star won't suffice. Willing or not, you must grow stronger."

- Crack! Boom!

Kalimford's magic reserves were pitiful.

Yet simply clenching his outstretched fist unleashed crushing pressure.

- Whoosh! Crack!

Derek's arms trembled as he strained against it, eyes glowing intensely.

'Absolute magic quantity is minimal, but he amplifies it somehow?'

'If I understand the mechanism, I might counter it.'

Even mid-assault, his mind raced.

Yet Kalimford's foundational magic principles remained elusive.

"I'll show combat magic's essence. Beyond anything you've experienced."

Striding closer, the gaunt archmage's staff scraped the ground.

Though past his prime, his seasoned mastery transcended mortal limits.

Those piercing eyes shone brighter still.