Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 2

Evelstain was a city with a thousand faces.

It was one of those phrases drunken romantics would slur out in taverns.

Yet it wasn't entirely drunken nonsense. A city of this scale, accommodating over a hundred thousand people, was indeed rare to find across the entire continent.

When you spent your days struggling in the ash-covered slums, it was inevitable to feel like the entire city was one giant prison.

But take a step outside and stroll through the streets, and you'd realize the tavern drunks weren't completely talking out of their asses.

Derek left the slums behind, passing through the commercial district to walk along the coastal area packed with docks.

Standing quietly by the waterfront, he could feel a completely different vitality swirling through the city compared to the quiet back alleys where the poor silently decayed.

The shouts of laborers. The creaking of ships rocking against the sloshing waves.

Squeezing past workers carrying crates of seafood since dawn, he climbed and climbed the stairs leading deeper into the city.

After walking toward the direction of the magnificent city walls and turning into several alleys, the tavern street where mercenaries gathered finally came into view.

Even in the early morning, the damp alley was filled with rough mercenaries ready to kill for a few silver coins.

A savage sight with deadly blades lining the streets. Not a place any decent citizen would dare approach.

Even in this fully civilized metropolis, wilderness still had its place.

Derek's second mentor was a widow named Katia Flameheart.

She was the former matriarch of the now-ruined Flameheart Viscountcy, which had been crushed after defying the empire. Now she was an aging woman with wrinkles forming on her forehead and streaks of gray appearing in her hair.

Fallen noblewomen usually met tragic ends, unable to overcome the drastic drop in their living standards. The fates of beautiful women who lost their status tended to follow similar paths.

Still, resourceful women became tutors for commoners, learned trade, or if lucky, entered noble households as governesses.

After all, having lived as noble ladies themselves, none were better suited to educate young noblewomen.

But Katia was an even rarer case than these"fortunate"fallen nobles. She neither took up the pen nor bowed her head to other noble houses.

A 3-Star mage, she voluntarily walked the mercenary district, slaying magical beasts and living off contract fees.

She traded dress hems for tattered cloaks and quills for daggers at her waist as she navigated the mercenary underworld. Despite her petite frame, she adapted frighteningly well to the brutal mercenary life.

For a noblewoman, she lived quite the raw existence.

"You know how to use magic."

Their meeting was accidental—Katia sitting in a tavern corner chewing on stale oat bread when she spotted Derek. About four years had passed since Derek first rolled into the mercenary underworld to make a living.

Dust-covered white messy hair framed eerily crimson eyes that looked up at her. The faint magic power shimmering in those eyes followed a different trajectory from noble magic.

Watching that street-born sharp gaze, Katia blinked slowly several times.

"...Me?"

"Yes."

Derek quietly studied Katia who'd suddenly addressed him.

He had several reasons for ending up in the mercenary underworld.

First, he needed to survive. No matter how lowborn, this was the only place where one could take contracts by risking their life.

From exterminating rats in old warehouses to killing minor magical beasts on the city outskirts—tasks manageable for Derek with his understanding of 1st Grade Magic.

Second, he needed to meet people.

The old man who taught him magic basics was dead. While magic could be self-taught to some extent, nothing matched learning from a proper mentor.

Even in this brutal underworld, magic-users occasionally appeared. People with tragic stories, forced to take contracts to survive, were everywhere.

He harbored hopes of learning magic from any such chance encounters. But mercenary mages were rarely that altruistic.

His initial plan—thinking he'd meet someone decent after a year—had now stretched into its fourth year.

The ten-year-old boy was starting to show adolescent traits. But to battle-hardened mercenaries, he remained a green brat.

Occasionally beaten by thuggish mercenaries, sometimes fighting back with his limited magic, Derek developed a tenacious edge while scraping by in the underworld.

"...How old are you?"

As if anticipating Derek's painfully obvious past, Katia calmly exhaled.

A veteran who'd rolled through these streets long enough, she knew better than to be generous with help in this environment. She'd seen too many pitiful souls, usually passing them by. Everyone here had a story.

But Derek differed from those tragic figures in one key aspect—his age.

He was far too young.

The image of her long-dead son, innocent and playing in the mansion courtyard, flickered before her eyes.

Though similar in age, this boy was already trying to earn his keep among these deadly mercenaries with his meager magic. The sight evoked melancholy more than admiration.

Though she considered it past history, she remained a mother who couldn't help herself.

Even having lost her child, a mother remained a mother until death.

"Magic is no different from other disciplines. Theory and practice are completely separate. You must always remember that both theoretical depth and practical experience are equally important."

Whenever they met at taverns, Katia would review Derek's magic.

Initially distant, Derek quickly absorbed her teachings, learning proper magic theory the old man hadn't covered.

"You must clearly know your level to improve."

Among many magic schools, the mainstream Noble Discipline School was favored by nobility.

They classified magic proficiency by Star Ranks. By their standards, Katia was a 3-Star mage.

Even renowned noble mages struggled to reach 3-Star status.

Occasionally, prodigies touched 3-Star magic around their coming-of-age ceremonies, but such cases were rare—maybe once every few years. Most only reached 3-Star when wrinkles began forming.

If nobles found it hard, commoners achieving 3-Star was nearly impossible. There was a reason mages from 3-Star onward were called"Senior Mages."

In short, finding a mentor like Katia was extraordinarily difficult.

"How far have you practiced magic in actual combat?"

"Nothing too impressive. Lighting small fires in darkness, detecting directions..."

"Not exceptionally strong by 1-Star standards, but remarkable for your age."

A noisy tavern corner hardly made for ideal magic lessons.

But both Katia and Derek were thoroughly accustomed to such chaotic environments.

"Still, even this level won't breach 2-Star's threshold. You don't need full mastery—just learning basics would secure your livelihood... Aim for at least that."

"I'll try."

Katia harbored no grand ambitions either.

A lost maternal instinct and a grain of sympathy—she intended to toss only that much kindness before leaving.

Fully training a commoner boy without proper lineage in 2-Star magic was impossible.

Just giving him a taste of 2-Star basics would become a powerful tool for survival. That was the extent of her kindness.

Thus Katia spent considerable time showing Derek various magics.

The combination of a slum-born magic prodigy and an aging fallen noble was rare even in the mercenary world, occasionally drawing curious looks.

But Katia and Derek's relationship wasn't as special as one might think. Having spent years in the underworld, Katia knew excessive affection bred unnecessary problems.

Sympathizing with her outlook, Derek avoided needlessly troubling her.

"You've honed magic through combat, but must also learn basic theory. Do you know magic is fundamentally divided into five schools?"

"Combat, Transformation, Confusion, Summoning, and Detection. Five total?"

"Good. That old man at least established basics. Each school has multiple Star Rank spells. Mastering just one 2-Star spell makes you a bona fide 2-Star mage."

Lessons continued amidst the bustling tavern.

Mastering one 2-Star spell earned the title. Naturally, hierarchy differed between barely scraping by and fluently wielding multiple 2-Star spells.

But symbolism mattered. Even scraping 2-Star status dramatically elevated one's standing.

While common among nobles, reaching 2-Star required exceptional effort and talent for commoners.

"As mages, ambition is inevitable. Most prioritize quickly mastering high-rank spells in their aptitude over balanced learning."

"Meaning mages specialize."

"Quick learner, Derek. Identifying your aptitude is crucial."

"...I want to learn them all."

Katia set down her mug of cold water, eyeing Derek wearily.

"Excessive greed only delays achievement. Remember my words."

"...Understood."

Katia specialized in Confusion Magic at 3-Star.

While her 3-Star repertoire was limited, she fluently wielded various 2-Star spells.

Though unable to immediately elevate Derek, she could guide his direction.

"You might've grasped 1-Star magic through repetitive combat, but 2-Star requires consciously sensing and controlling internal magic."

"I had some intuition. Magic application feels like channeling internal energy?"

"Exactly. Your combat experience helps. Try sensing and replicating the magic aura I release."

Placing her hand on the wooden table, Katia manipulated her magic.

Following her lead, Derek sensed his own magic.

His innate magic capacity was substantial—far too talented to rot in slums.

Learning 1-Star basics from a boastful old man and intuiting magic control through improvised combat proved it.

'Had he noble blood... would his life have been different?'

She'd seen too many mediocre mages flaunting lineage alone.

Assessing Derek's aptitude gave Katia complex feelings, though hardly surprising.

The world was inherently unjust—something the long-lived Katia knew well. Unnecessary sentimentality only hindered survival.

During these magic lessons—

- Whoosh!

Derek's face lit up with realization as he suddenly released accumulated magic.

Katia's brow instantly furrowed.

- Wheeeek! Whoosh!

- KABOOOOM!

A massive explosion filled the tavern.

"Wha—what was that?!"

"What's happening?!"

Mercenaries drinking throughout the shabby tavern grabbed weapons, scanning surroundings.

A collapse-like roar engulfed the tavern, vibrating eardrums painfully.

Though the mercenaries assumed combat stances, nothing seemed amiss.

The world outside remained peaceful, with no changes inside either.

"What...? I definitely heard something huge!"

"Hey barkeep! Look around! Something must've happened!"

Amidst the chaos, Katia stared down at Derek.

Derek simply looked back up at her.

"Master. Just now I—"

- Thud!

Before he could finish, Katia grabbed his arm and rushed outside.

Katia dragged Derek into a secluded alley off the tavern street.

Her brisk pace forced the shorter Derek into a half-jog.

Gripping his arm tightly enough to leave marks, she walked and walked until far from the tavern.

Turning through multiple alleys, they entered a dim backstreet reeking of food waste.

Derek remained silent, unnerved by Katia's unprecedented severity.

Only after considerable distance did Katia stop, lowering her stance to face him.

"Derek."

Complex emotions colored her expression. Derek couldn't guess why she looked so grave.

He simply returned her worried gaze.

Katia closed and opened her eyes, organizing thoughts.

In youth, she'd been a noble lady, then Flameheart's matriarch, now a status-less wandering mercenary.

Though a low-class noble, she'd mingled in high society. Thus she understood noble mentality—the reason for her grim expression.

"..."

For commoners, magic was survival rather than refined art.

Commoners occasionally produced 1-Star mages. Rarely 2-Star. Maybe one in tens of thousands reached 3-Star.

Usually middle-aged lifelong practitioners.

A fourteen-year-old boy's life experience and density differed entirely.

"Listen carefully, Derek. The spell you just cast was'Auditory Hallucination'—a Confusion Magic. It spreads false sounds to disorient enemies."

"I roughly imagined that."

"Good. And that was—a Confusion Magic 2-Star spell."

Nobles respected commoners with exceptional magic talent—to a point.

This was the nobles'era.

Magic symbolized their privilege and bloodline pride.

Some lines couldn't be crossed.

"..."

Innate talent was considered a blessing, but excessive brilliance could become poison in this era.

This was why Katia's expression had darkened upon witnessing Derek's magic.