Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 203

A stray dog's corpse, swarming with flies, lay discarded in a corner of the slums.

Passersby would glance sideways at the gruesomely mutilated body, grimace, and continue on their way without pause.

Yet a girl sitting hunched in the corner, hugging her knees covered in scratches... stared at the corpse with gleaming eyes.

Life and death. Having experienced all things, only flesh remained at that boundary line.

This beast had once been born cute and suckling, roamed fields, hunted prey, suffered great wounds, and devoured other creatures in its time.

Now its tumultuous life ended quietly by the roadside, being picked apart by crows—a sight both beautiful and sublime. The first truth this girl, just beginning to understand the world, grasped was the value of death.

The girl was born at the very bottom of the slums. She didn't know who her parents were.

Occasionally she stole, begged, or eked out a living with the scant magic she could wield. In that fractured era of the empire, even minor magical ability was considered valuable.

Her usual attire—charred, grimy clothes—covered her as she nibbled hard bread while walking among the slums'broken souls. Wrapped in tattered burlap, a skirt stripped from a corpse, and a shabby robe bought with her entire savings... she wandered the corners of the port city Leventen.

No one existed to teach the girl magic. Such was the era, such was her environment.

No fortunate encounters with slum-dwelling mages, no pity from fallen noblewomen passing through town, no legendary archmages seeking her out.

The blessing of finding a guiding mentor wasn't granted to everyone.

Yet the girl dreamed.

Gazing at the starry sky visible between the slum's gloomy, ominous buildings, she longed to grasp those stars in her hands.

Some born at the very bottom dream of reaching the very heights.

The vision etched in the girl's eyes was those shining stars forming the Big Dipper.

Rubellen.

Thus, the girl from the depths named herself.

After the lavender gemstone mined from Aska in northwest Leventen—a fragment the size of a fingernail could buy a month's worth of food. She'd seen it once.

When the only daughter of Leventen's ruling noble family came to market with escorts to buy an instrument.

Seeing that gem glittering on the noble girl's earring, the slum child thought:

'I want to become like that beautiful woman adorned in such exquisite jewels, whose every gesture exudes grace, whose smiles make all blush, whose conversations spark laughter.'

To wield magic, stroll through high society, and shine brilliantly like those noble ladies.

And at the end—to grasp the stars.

To declare at magic's pinnacle that her life held meaning.

To become a star shining in that night sky.

Thus, in an era when magic systems weren't even properly established... the girl advanced while exploring magic.

The following year, she devised methods to manifest elements and basic defensive spells through magical power.

Taking odd jobs hunting minor magical beasts in Leventen's outskirts, she gained combat experience while training alone in spare moments.

Though pretty accessories and blouses sometimes caught her eye, she spent what money she had on magical tools and study materials instead.

Huddled in a slum basement's dingy corner by candlelight, she devoured spellbooks. Without any teacher or guidance... she immersed herself in magic's systems alone in the darkness.

Though heaven had granted her genius, storms inevitably come.

The girl's life brimmed with trials. Going hungry for three days when jobs dried up. Nearly dying when attacked by bandits while wandering streets.

The day she accidentally killed resisting robbers, she stared at the bloody corpse in an alley, panting.

In the pouring rain, gazing at the corpse's face with fully dilated pupils... she again felt death's crushing weight.

Life and death. The human struggle between them. Only when this storm of realization hit did she understand—heaven had gifted her with necromantic talent.

Yet untapped talent couldn't improve her life.

Her magic, while better than commoners', couldn't possibly transform her miserable existence.

Winter brought biting cold that turned lips blue with shivering.

Chewing cheap bread, drinking water floating with weeds, turning spellbook pages with trembling fingers.

Occasionally attacked again by bandits, committing murder, staggering bloodied until collapsing in the street.

-'...'

Repeating this painful struggle, she often mistook death for an escape.

And this girl, just beginning to be stained by the world's storms, was no different.

Once she'd dreamed lofty dreams, but reality was harsh.

A slum-born commoner exploring magic faced a world cruel as midwinter. Wanting to live radiantly like those noble ladies, yet lying shivering on freezing streets.

If human worth was predetermined at birth, what meaning existed in such desperate effort?

Vast ideals and dreams sharpened like daggers stabbing her chest. Unreachable goals only emphasized her wretchedness.

Thus, in the flesh-biting cold, the girl quietly closed her eyes.

At least if she didn't return home to rest, she might never wake again. Yet she merely reflected on life with eyes shut.

'I dreamed high dreams and tried grasping heaven's stars... isn't that enough?'

In that moment of becoming another ephemeral life snuffed out—

- Tap

-"You'll freeze to death sleeping here."

Someone called to the girl slumped in a slum corner under burlap as snow fell.

Barely lifting her eyelids, she saw a tall man in a deeply hooded robe addressing her.

Using honorifics to a slum orphan was suspicious. Yet weakly, she whispered:

-"It's fine."

-"Fine how?"

-"What meaning is there if an ignorant slum child freezes to death?"

-"Meaning? Value? Consider such rigid concepts after becoming an adult."

The man firmly pressed gold coins into her hand, then patted her burlap-covered head.

-"No need to grow up too quickly."

-"..."

-"Even if the world pushes you to mature fast, try living a little more carelessly."

Brushing snow off his shoulders, the man stood and disappeared into the crowd.

The girl dumbly stared at his retreating back, clutching coins that could feed her for years.

Thus, life's wheel turned onward.

Understanding magic's mysteries, achieving brilliant results, continuing her journey as a great mage.

After luckily saving a frontier baron during a monster hunt, the girl was adopted into his household.

There she enjoyed happy times—picking flowers in fields by day, studying magic by night.

Each blink seemed to etch those memories deeper, like a zoetrope.

Life's tapestry of light and shadow balanced between joy and sorrow.

Light came.

Eating vegetable soup and buttered bread at the frontier barony, laughing with family, becoming a lovely noble girl picking field flowers.

Darkness came.

When she first awakened corpse-handling magic, her only sibling screamed and collapsed.

Light came.

Though cursed power awakened, her family embraced and accepted her.

Darkness came.

Rumors of necromancy reached the duke's ears—her entire family slaughtered as she wept bloody tears in the burning manor.

Light came.

Reaching necromancy's peak, she exacted vengeance with bloodied hands.

Darkness came.

A hero brimming with righteousness arrived and beheaded her.

Light came.

Reborn as a viscount's second daughter, she took the hero's head in her second life.

Darkness came.

Her bloody power led the family head to order her execution.

Light came.

Awakening again in a new body, new status, new place.

Darkness came.

Again hated as cursed, death's shadow loomed over her.

Between floral scents and blood's reek—her journey surely held meaning.

Sometimes walking night streets, gazing skyward at the ever-present stars, she wondered when she might reach them.

Having touched necromancy's pinnacle, tasted much joy and sorrow through countless cycles.

Yet that dream from Leventen's slums—of grasping heaven's stars—felt only half-fulfilled.

She'd lived elegantly as noble ladies do. But never felt she'd seized those celestial bodies.

That summit beyond 6-Star—surely transcended humanity.

After hundreds of human lifetimes, she finally sensed those stars were never meant to be held.

Thus, attachment to life faded at last.

Those who live fully can face death with serenity.

Like walking a mountain path, she observed the world's scenery. Her now-meaningless life continued down endless trails.

Empires rose and fell, world-shaking crises came and went.

When the archfiend Noir engulfed northern snowfields, the era's heroes—Kalimford and Melberot—came bowing before her.

Their youthful selves once burned with duty and altruism.

Smirking at this—she slowly blinked.

Count Elvester's territory, carpeted with corpses.

Across the field, Archmage Melberot charged with his royal guard.

-"Charge!"

-"Protect Lord Melberot! Hold formation until we breach the count's manor!"

-"Raaaaah!"

Viewing them from the walls, she grasped the situation's scale.

Imperial enemy. A great evil to vanquish.

'Rubellen'was now archaic. The figure standing here was Lady Phee Rafaela Tigris of Tigris Barony.

Watching Melberot gallop toward the manor, Phee channeled magic and leaped down.

-"Whooosh!"

Plummeting from dizzying heights, frilly dress fluttering.

Against the shining moon, a demon descended upon the battlefield.

Yet Melberot's guards kept cheering—their leader was the empire's mightiest mage.

Morale soared skyward as war cries threatened to drown the plains—until—

-"Whoooaah!"

-"Crash!"

As Phee landed, magical energy rippled outward.

Like a droplet disturbing still water.

Then, as if waking from a dream, all war cries instantly vanished.

As if by agreement, every shout ceased simultaneously. How could they not?

Every life within her sight had been extinguished at once.

-"Craaack! Thudthudthud!"

-"Eeeek! Craaack!"

6-Star necromancy—'Instant Death.'

A spell at absurdity's peak, reaping all lives within her perception instantly.

Melberot's guards fell dead from their horses, which likewise collapsed bleeding.

Resisting this unreasonable magic required reaching comparable heights.

Only Melberot remained, his horse dying beneath him as he landed gracefully.

The battlefield, roaring seconds earlier, now held only silence.

Moonlight shone brightly.

Two figures stood amidst corpses, studying each other from afar.

"Hello, Melberot. Long time. You acted ageless before, but seem wearier now."

Bat-shaped crimson magic emanated from her, spreading across the battlefield.

Melberot dispelled the necromantic energy affecting him and gripped his sword.

"You haven't changed."

"Suppose not. By the way—weren't you holed up in Rocheste Territory's north, refusing to emerge? How quickly you came running when this happened."

"Your existence is my past sin to rectify personally."

"Is that so? Sadly, I wasn't waiting for you. You're an uninvited guest."

Atop Count Elvester's spire, a massive bone dragon spread tattered wings and roared.

The shockwave shook the region, unleashing gale winds that whipped Phee's lavender hair and Melberot's cloak violently.

"Unwanted guests should be removed promptly."

6-Star mages fighting could reshape battlefields into disasters requiring redrawn maps.

Proving this, enormous explosions soon erupted.

"Countess Rodea of House Renuel has already mobilized reinforcements from the southwest. Other influential families have raised private armies, and Beltus House's Orel Mercenaries are moving en masse."

"Battlefield status?"

"Combat seems well underway. Lord Melberot of Rocheste Ducal Territory... reportedly already engaged."

Galloping swiftly, Derek listened to Delbritton's report.

Riding day and night to reach the battlefield was paramount.

Kalimford and Delbritton followed behind.

Imperial forces would also be converging—likely encountering Princess Rozelyn and Kochella there.

Gripping the reins tighter, Derek raced through the night forest.