Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 195

- Clop, clop.

A young courier was galloping along a path in the southeastern part of the continent.

Confident in his horsemanship, the young man raced like the wind, nearly reaching the Tigris territory at the outermost edge of the Elvester County.

The young and capable Baron of Tigris was a reliable figure who guarded this remote mountainous region, managed villages too small to even be called such, and maintained order by hunting magical beasts.

Though it was an isolated area where news rarely reached, the message this courier carried was something that needed to spread to every corner of the continent.

The news that Emperor Gertrel had been assassinated.

Bearing this thunderbolt that would shake the entire empire, the dutiful courier continued pushing through the dark forest.

And when he finally reached the Tigris Baron's estate, his eyes widened in shock.

Though the villages outside the castle already had an eerie atmosphere, he'd assumed it was just because of the late hour.

But as he approached the estate, an indescribable chill began to permeate the air... until upon entering the estate grounds, a scene painted with blood awaited him.

'W-what the...! The Tigris estate was attacked...?'

The Tigris territory periodically sent reports and official letters to the Elvester County about their situation.

It was a place where as long as they handled the occasional magical beasts and properly collected quarterly taxes, nothing more was required. Few ever visited to verify in person—it was too rural, and the Baron of Tigris himself was trustworthy.

'How could such chaos inside remain almost completely unknown to the outside...?'

An indescribable sense of wrongness settled in.

Someone was using artificial means to prevent news of the internal turmoil from leaking. For small villages in the countryside, if influential figures exerted their power, it wasn't impossible.

But there were limits to hiding things this way. However long this had been going on, soon the Elvester County would notice.

The courier abandoned his mission and was about to turn his horse around when—

- Thunk.

A crimson spike pierced through his chest.

Before he could even scream, only gurgling sounds escaped as his eyes bulged wide.

"My, my, you've worked hard coming all this way. Thank you."

He hadn't sensed any presence.

Sitting casually behind him on the saddle, pulling out and reading the letter from the courier's pouch... was a petite girl.

"Being a courier running back and forth is tough work, isn't it? Cold, exhausting, hungry... and sometimes you encounter wild beasts or magical creatures and get hurt badly. The pay must be good."

The courier gurgled as he slumped against the horse's neck.

The girl with soft lavender hair brushed it aside and glanced down, utterly indifferent to the dying courier.

The letter detailed events at Ravenclaw Academy—the assassination of Emperor Gertrel by a 6-star Confusion Mage, how Baron Ravenclaw led the capture, and how he would be granted the title of Border Count for his merits.

With recognition from Melberot of the north and Kochella of Gremfort Palace, by summer Derek would rise to a position none in the region could challenge.

6-star mages were rare on the continent.

Among them, Melberot, Kochella, and Drest each stood at the pinnacle of their fields. But Phee sneered.

"The central nobles will make another fuss. Good for me out here in the sticks—provides cover... though it probably won't last long."

The Elvester County was already starting to notice something amiss.

Despite the distance, such complete lack of contact was suspicious. Especially with Katia Flameheart likely dropping hints, Phee's time to comfortably settle here was limited.

But this place was already like her kingdom.

All manner of undead creatures roamed. Atop the baron's estate rested a massive skeletal dragon with folded wings, while at the entrance floated her favorite creation—the archlich"Happy"—observing the world.

A cursed fortress shrouded in ominous fog, filled with corpses and restless spirits.

- Thud.

As the lifeless courier fell to the ground, Phee primly took his place in the saddle.

The young courier lay motionless before slowly rising with grotesque sounds. He had become one of Phee's soldiers.

"Soon, Derek will come to see me. I should tidy up the place more."

Slowly advancing on horseback, the queen who commanded death herself moved under the fog-shrouded moon.

Derek was called the most renowned teacher in Evelstain. He was Phee's student... and her teacher.

They say there are no truly wicked noble ladies? Phee could barely contain her bubbling laughter. Would such words still come after seeing the ruined state of Tigris territory?

Teaching hothouse flowers of noble daughters might inspire such romantic notions.

But Phee, noble daughter of House Tigris, was an evil among evils who had slaughtered countless lives across eons, paving her path with blood. Repentance now was meaningless—not that she had any intention to.

This was fundamentally different from reforming proud, arrogant noble girls with minor etiquette issues. No famous magic teacher could handle something of this magnitude.

Phee, bearing darkness deeper than any noble lady Derek had met, would become the greatest trial of his teaching career.

"I've got quite the expensive student. Next time he comes for me, he'll bring at least two 6-star mages and the combined forces of southwestern nobles."

She closed her eyes and imagined.

Derek, now at family-head level mage status, with his followers and the supreme mages backing him.

And she imagined further.

Slaughtering them all, embracing Derek amidst the blood-soaked ruins of Tigris estate, whispering in his ear:

That in the end, she was the only one who could guide him.

That the only person who could take him to the stars above was, after all turns, herself alone.

And when he finally became a supreme mage capable of dominating all magic and inscriptions, only then could she make her final request.

To end this endless life.

"Hehe... hehehe...."

Sitting sidesaddle with a prim smile, she looked like any girl lost in romantic fantasy.

But seeing her traverse the death-shrouded estate surrounded by ghosts only evoked horror.

Even death bowed before her. She was the queen of this cursed kingdom of darkness.

"I'll likely receive the count title around early summer."

"Oh! That's... truly something to celebrate! Derek...!"

"..."

Elennte tilted her head, noticing Derek's stiff expression, wondering if she'd said something wrong.

"..."

The chaos at Ravenclaw Academy had somewhat settled.

The imperial guards had left with the emperor's body and the captured criminal. Naturally, Princess Roselyn and Kochella departed too.

-'Don't forget our agreement. We'll meet again at Gremfort Palace.'

Early morning.

Before boarding her carriage, Princess Roselyn's gaze at Derek was unusually solemn.

She seemed to consider them already allies. She clearly had no intention of letting Derek join other factions.

Derek too found Roselyn's terms quite acceptable, so he wasn't displeased.

After seeing off the imperial guards, Derek gathered his Ravenclaw School disciples at the conference hall with the large round table.

First, to announce his impending promotion.

"D-Derek...? So... by summer you'll really be a territorial noble..? Equal in rank to Lady Rodea of House Renuel...?"

"Essentially."

Diela beside Derek gaped wide-eyed.

Elennte was sincerely congratulating him, as was Denis.

Sirine seemed indifferent—having casually interacted with 6-star mages like Melberot and Kalimford, Derek's rising status likely wouldn't change their dynamic.

Tricia, most sensitive to secular power among them, was practically hyperventilating.

"Huuuuh.................. You'll govern... the western borderlands...?"

"...I didn't know you could make that expression."

"N-no... My... my disgraceful behavior is shameful, Count Your Excellency...."

"...I haven't received the title yet."

"Ah, no... It's just... huuuuh...."

Derek massaged his temples as he sat at the round table.

Watching Tricia tremble with hypersensitivity, the other noble ladies also swallowed dryly.

When they first met, Derek was a shabby slum-born mercenary. Now he stood on the verge of becoming a count governing vast territories.

If Derek truly reached family-head mage status, their previous hierarchy would invert.

The casual"Derek"and easy teacher-student dynamic would become difficult to maintain. Rising status inevitably changed relationships.

A baron managing a village or two was one thing—a count governing directly was entirely different.

Until now, formal occasions required decorum but private interactions could remain casual. At this level, complete attitude adjustment was necessary.

"..."

And Derek... wasn't entirely comfortable with this.

Having lived as a mercenary distant from authority since childhood, seeing his disciples suddenly stiffen with formality felt unpleasant.

But status was status, and decorum was decorum. Neglecting this could lead to mistakes in important situations—damaging his authority.

"With the academy opening soon, responsibilities will multiply. Managing the territory will be overwhelming. But having committed to teaching magic, I won't neglect that duty."

Derek took teacher-student relationships seriously.

Once accepting someone as a disciple, he saw it through. Storming into House Belmierd or Beltus to protect his students was characteristic of Derek.

"However, I likely won't take more direct disciples. So... those gathered here will be my only direct disciples. I wanted to make that clear."

Though renowned in noble education, even Derek had limits.

Baron Derek Raidof Ravenclaw's direct disciples were all present here, with no plans to increase their number.

He needed to confirm this... to eliminate uncertainty.

"...Though... there is one more disciple I haven't mentioned."

Then Derek reached his main point.

From mercenary days to now, Derek had taught numerous noble ladies, improved their achievements, and reformed them.

As both mage and teacher, he'd gained enough experience to feel confident teaching most people.

But the world was vast, with all types of noble ladies.

One remained—more challenging than any he'd taught—both his teacher and student.

Baron Ravenclaw had five direct disciples.

Or so everyone thought, until now. All present could only swallow hard in shock.

-'Since Princess Roselyn needs allies, I can join. But... I have unfinished business. Until resolved, having me under your command would be difficult.'

-'What else could you possibly want now?'

-'...Can the imperial family assist me?'

In the carriage returning to Gremfort Palace.

Princess Roselyn wore a grave expression, replaying her conversation with Derek.

Much needed doing.

Returning to the palace meant properly interrogating the captured Marilyn and investigating her backers.

Yet Derek's final request before leaving lingered... complicating her thoughts.

-'A 6-star Necromancy Mage is targeting me.'

Derek Raidof Ravenclaw always delivered shocking statements.

With the emperor assassinated, national crisis unfolding, and fury toward Marilyn boiling, she thought nothing else could surprise her.

Yet before boarding the carriage, Derek's words left her even more unsettled.

The messages he'd secretly conveyed to Princess Roselyn, avoiding Kochella, continued weighing on her mind.

"It's about time to prepare for the academy's restoration and opening!"

The next day, Aiselin entered the office arms full of documents, radiating happiness.

Having lost sleep over various concerns, a weary Derek observed her boundless energy and conceded—he could never match this monster's stamina.

"I heard you handled both estate and academy matters alone in my absence! I can't impose further! From now I'll manage the household staff!"

Derek glanced sideways at Head Maid Elfin and Head Butler Delbritton.

Their expressions resembled livestock headed for slaughter. Seeing these normally professional individuals so pale left Derek conflicted.

"W-well..."

"Derek! You have more important matters! While I appreciate your concern, delegating minor internal affairs to me would be better!"

The tragic truth was... Aiselin was right.

Derek quietly looked at Delbritton."Then... since it's come to this..."

"Understood. Baron Ravenclaw. We... fully understand..."

Head Butler Delbritton spoke with enlightened resignation. Head Maid Elfin beside him mirrored this.

"Yes, correct. We maids were... truly honored to serve Baron Ravenclaw as our master..."

"Huh? Elfin? Derek is still your master. No need for such funereal tones."

"Yes... of course... I remain Head Maid of Ravenclaw Manor... of course... But... I shall cherish this past month of paradise... this beautiful spring... forever..."

"Elfin, really...! No need for such melancholic farewells...! This isn't a transfer!"

Watching cheerful Aiselin and the blood-drained staff, Derek silently bowed his head in tribute.

Regardless, he couldn't spare time for estate management now.

Between Ravenclaw Academy oversight, personal magic instruction, and title preparations, his plate was full.

And the only one who could handle it all was Aiselin. To the staff, she must seem like a reaper with a scythe.

Derek sighed and stood.

The weather warmed—spring had come. The tumultuous inspection period had somehow concluded.

The opening ceremony approached.