Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 170

- Whoosh! Sizzle!

The magical energy crystallizing at Sirine's fingertips took the form of a massive rose before dissipating into smoke once more.

While I knew Sirine possessed tremendous magical power, I never imagined her control had reached such refinement.

Melberot sat perched on his office desk, subtly narrowing his eyes.

"Not just transformation magic, but confusion and combat magic seem close to reaching new levels too. Derek's 4-Star spells still feel distant... but not impossible, I think."

"...Sirine. How long has it been since you went to Ravenclaw Barony?"

"Huh? About... less than a year?"

Melberot crossed his arms and touched his lips with his palm.

Calculating the dates confirmed Sirine was right. In under a year, Baron Ravenclaw had completely stabilized Sirine's magic, suppressed her volatile temperament, taught her noble etiquette, and elevated both combat and confusion magic to 3-Star proficiency.

No noblewoman in the entire continent at her age had reached 3-Star mastery—let alone in three distinct fields.

'I must give credit where it's due.'

Melberot was proud and rarely showed his thoughts.

He'd considered Derek merely a convenient guardian for Sirine, never expecting such results.

"The time spent learning at Ravenclaw Barony seems to have helped greatly."

"Of course. Though there's one concerning development."

"Which is?"

"When I first came to Rocheste Territory, he was just a tutor riding on rumors. Now his reputation has skyrocketed... too many noblewomen keep visiting. It seems difficult for him to personally tutor anyone anymore."

Melberot could only grimace at this.

As Sirine's guardian, he could request Derek focus solely on her education.

But doing so would provoke outrage from other noble families whose daughters Derek taught.

Melberot was a national hero and Northern Dominator.

Yet the noblewomen under Derek's tutelage came from families like Duplein, Belmierd, Beltus, and Renuel—each formidable enough to make even Melberot hesitate.

"Indeed, he's become quite the coveted tutor. A noble with both magical expertise and aristocratic grace is rare."

"That may be... but Father. Derek commands such respect not because of aristocratic grace."

Sirine puffed up proudly as if boasting about herself.

"You've never seen Derek fight seriously, have you?"

Melberot had only received reports of Derek's disciplinary actions in Rocheste Territory.

What had Sirine witnessed during her time under Derek's tutelage?

Melberot couldn't help his growing curiosity.

"Derek is... Achoo!"

Just as Sirine began explaining, an adorable sneeze interrupted her.

"..."

An awkward silence fell between them.

- Boom! Crash! Bang!

The servants watching Derek and Kalimford's duel began paling.

They'd assumed this was a simple magic spar, expecting to clean up afterward.

But each exchange grew increasingly vicious, forcing gulps from spectators.

- Thud!

Derek dispersed Kalimford's magical pressure and rolled outside its range.

'Out of throwing daggers.'

He snatched a broken wall fragment and sprinted along the dueling ground's perimeter.

- Whoosh!

Kalimford swung his staff.

Until now, he'd gradually increased spell tiers to gauge Derek's limits.

Now he began employing battle-tested techniques.

But unleashing his full power would reduce the entire mansion to rubble.

Kalimford knew this—his next move was predictable.

- Thud!

Kalimford planted his staff center-stage and closed his eyes.

A man who could cast high-tier magic without concentration now focusing intently signaled imminent catastrophe.

Derek hurled the fragment while leaping away—purely to disrupt Kalimford's focus.

Against such high-level magic, prevention was the only defense.

- Swish!

But Kalimford saw through Derek's intent, completing his incantation despite the projectile.

- Thwack!

The stone struck Kalimford's left temple, drawing blood.

As crimson trailed down his cheek, Kalimford's eyes snapped open and he gripped his staff.

- Plink!

- Whoosh!

A sound like a droplet falling on still water.

Simultaneously, reality itself began warping around him.

The world inverted and trembled—the snow-covered dueling ground and shattered walls dissolved into smoke.

- Rumble! Crash!

5-Star Transformation Magic:"Battlefield Recreation"

Derek now stood on an endless lake, its mirror surface reflecting the azure sky.

The impossibility of walking on water was just the beginning.

Each step sent ripples to the horizon.

In this serene space, a gaunt figure stood in the distance.

'Trapped.'

Derek drew his longsword, adopting a defensive stance with protective magic.

5-Star transformation magic reshapes reality itself.

Though transformation mages aren't considered combat specialists, their battlefield coordination is why empires always recruit them for wars.

Kalimford's purpose was clear—to unleash devastating magic without collateral damage.

- Swish!

Kalimford wiped blood from his left eye—likely injured by the stone—and channeled magic into his staff.

As he levitated, storms gathered around him.

His cheap oak staff began cracking under the strain.

- Crack! Boom! Whoosh!

Waves erupted across the tranquil lake.

The magical tempest formed an impregnable defense.

This could only mean one thing.

An old adage among high-tier mages: When your opponent suddenly erects supreme defenses, either break through immediately or prepare your last words.

Then darkness fell.

Not from nightfall—but from something massive eclipsing the sky.

- Roar!

A meteor large enough to shadow the land descended.

The same spell that ended the Dawn War by slaying Noir.

The legendary 6-Star combat magic that redrew the northern continent's map.

Its mere heat vaporized Derek's sweat.

As Derek's eyes widened—

- KABOOOOOM!!

The ensuing blast deafened him.

- Fizzle! Pop!

Kalimford's battlefield dissolved, revealing the original dueling ground.

The apocalyptic meteor and inferno might as well have been illusions.

"Huff... huff..."

Exhausted from casting multiple 5-Star spells and a 6-Star technique, Kalimford leaned heavily on his staff.

He coughed dryly, his frail body barely standing.

Through blurred vision, he saw Derek kneeling weakly.

At the last moment, Kalimford had shielded Derek from the meteor's impact.

His purpose was simple—to instill the temperament needed against 6-Star mages.

6-Star magic is an inescapable calamity.

Like facing natural disasters, mere knowledge isn't enough—one must experience that helplessness.

Yet when the illusion faded, Derek's first words were:

"Dodge... next time..."

"What?"

- Swish!

- Bang! Whoosh!

A dozen fire arrows materialized from thin air, streaking toward Kalimford.

His supernatural reflexes deflected most—but one grazed his sleeve.

- Fwoosh!

Flames licked his forearm.

'...'

Kalimford stared dumbfounded at Derek.

Derek's magic should've been depleted. This attack was impossible.

'Pre-cast before the battlefield shift?'

But the timing was too delayed.

Then Kalimford remembered—before entering the illusion, he'd demonstrated"echo attacks"using residual magic.

Derek had replicated it after one explanation.

Not just mimicry—strategic implementation.

Kalimford wiped blood from his temple, finally understanding.

Derek had planned everything from picking up the stone fragment.

Anticipating Kalimford would shift battlefields requiring concentration, Derek created a diversion to set up this delayed strike.

The leather strap on Derek's thigh—meant for throwing daggers—caught Kalimford's eye.

Empty.

Had even one dagger remained, it would've been lethal.

The battle's flow might've changed entirely.

Facing overwhelming odds and finding that one path to victory—that's a mercenary's instinct.

Kalimford wiped blood away, recalling his own words:

Come at me intending to kill.

That might've been a mistake.

"Cough... huff... More?"

Derek's question as he struggled to stand left Kalimford speechless.

After nearly being obliterated by 6-Star magic, how could he ask that?

This man seemed to lack fundamental survival instincts.

Yet it wasn't fearlessness—but reason overriding primal terror.

A trait only those who've danced with death since childhood possess.

'Now I understand, Phee.'

That obsessive dedication to magic, chilling composure, and instant adaptability.

Kalimford swallowed dryly, studying Derek's battered form.

Then... he closed his eyes.

"No, we'll stop here. Any further would ruin dinner plans."

Kalimford knew—Derek would reach 5-Star soon.

A realm matching powerful family heads.

"Dinner's canceled?"

After receiving minor mana control techniques from Kalimford and finishing training, Derek returned to his room only to receive unexpected news.

The flustered maid delivering the message kept her back turned, perhaps due to Derek's bare torso as he bandaged numerous wounds from the duel.

The brutal training left Derek unfazed.

"Yes. While you were treating injuries... an emergency was declared. Lord Melberot personally sounded the alert—the entire mansion is in chaos."

"What? Monster invasion?"

"Details are unclear... but Lord Melberot urgently requested your presence."

Melberot"urgently"seeking someone was unheard of.

The man who faced world-ending crises without blinking wouldn't cancel schedules lightly.

Derek straightened his attire with a grim expression.

- Click

Emerging into the hallway, he spotted Melberot approaching through the bustling servants.

The famously unflappable Melberot coming personally signaled catastrophe.

Kalimford beside him looked equally grave.

Two 6-Star mages—capable of leveling mansions effortlessly—now sweating nervously.

Derek might need to fight while still injured.

Checking his gear, Derek quickened his pace.

"There you are."

"I was tending wounds. What's happened?"

"An unprecedented situation. Frankly, I'm at a loss."

Melberot appeared genuinely rattled.

Kalimford's already pale complexion had whitened further.

"I've... never experienced this... my mind's gone blank... damn it... how do we..."

Whatever could panic two 6-Star mages must be catastrophic.

Derek swallowed hard.

"May I ask... what occurred?"

"Sirine... has caught a cold."

"...?"