Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 204

-"Tell my daughter Reshi back home... that I love her..."

-"I wish... I could taste Kshet's honey wine one last time..."

-"Wasn't... a bad life. In my next one... I'd like to live like this again."

-"You damn necromancer bitch...! I'll curse you even in death...!"

-"Please, spare me! I don't want to die here...!"

- Thud, thud.

It had been ages since she'd fought this desperately.

Clutching her crushed right shoulder, Phee limped into Elvester Count's manor, dragging one leg behind her.

The elegant stained glass was half-shattered, and the ruined main hall was smeared with bloodstains.

As she staggered across, countless deaths she'd witnessed over the years flashed through her mind.

Having lived by killing multitudes, she'd heard all sorts of last words while staining her hands with blood.

Phee collapsed onto a large oak chair prepared at the hall's center. Then she chuckled darkly. The sight resembled a queen returning to her audience chamber.

Blood trickled from her lips, but it would heal if left alone. Yet the wounds themselves would likely remain troublesome for quite some time.

Facing the lord of the Rocheste family had drained her enough to trigger these flashbacks.

She'd seen many faces at death's door. Each left pathetic last words before popping out of existence - to Phee, they seemed utterly ephemeral.

Last words. Hah.

Phee let her bloodied dress hem droop as she leaned back against the chair, exhaling laboriously.

But that distant past was beyond recollection now, and to Phee - long accustomed to her restless existence - such preparations seemed pointless.

That time she leaned against a snowy alley wall, staring blankly at the sky while ready to end it all... what had she planned to say before departing?

No matter how she racked her memory, nothing came to mind.

So Phee closed her eyes to recover... and for a brief moment, steadied her breathing.

Moonlight filtering through the broken stained glass draped over her figure, making her appear deep in slumber.

"Lord Melberot has fallen."

The plains leading to Elvester Count's manor.

At the hastily erected encampment overlooking the corpse-and-spirit-strewn manor in the distance, few soldiers had gathered yet.

Only the first responders who'd rushed upon hearing the news.

Imperial troops from the capital and allied forces from the southwestern continent would arrive in waves soon enough.

"Lord Melberot?"

"Yes. I'm Rabiel of House Rocheste. Chief scribe and acting administrator."

Despite his clerical position, the man wore pristine armor.

Most of Melberot's Rocheste territory personnel were like this. Even desk workers could wield swords and magic.

This Rabiel was also blood-splattered - likely the one who'd retrieved Melberot from the battlefield.

"..."

Derek gazed silently at Elvester Manor's outer walls visible across the plains.

When sunny, Elvester territory - especially around the manor - resembled paradise on earth, what people called heaven-blessed land.

Cheerful birdsong, butterflies fluttering along paths, floral fragrance everywhere... Now this peaceful, beautiful land was cratered as if meteor showers had struck.

Corpse mounds littered the area, and one side of the manor's outer wall had collapsed entirely. The overcast sky hid the stars, leaving only gloom around the estate.

The aftermath of 6-Star mages clashing.

Less a battle, more like war's devastation.

The makeshift camp lacked even proper sickbeds.

Melberot, lord of Rocheste territory, leaned against a tent wall clutching his sword.

Bleeding so profusely that half a dozen maids constantly compressed his wounds.

"Lord Melberot arrived first to suppress that vile necromancer. He acted swiftly knowing casualties would spiral otherwise. So he led Rocheste's elite troops in a charge. But..."

6-Star combat mages guarantee victory in most battles.

With monsters who drop meteors, flash-freeze regions, and burn mountains at your vanguard...

Except the opponent was a historic monster herself.

"...Our elite forces died instantly without even reaching the walls. Effectively, Lord Melberot fought that necromancer alone."

"Were you present?"

"I stayed back to relay reports. But seeing the extermination force wiped out instantly, I rode straight to Lord Melberot's position."

Witnessing total annihilation yet charging forward - this scribe Rabiel was fiercely loyal.

Derek maintained a stern expression while stepping past busy soldiers establishing camp.

"What followed... defies description. Hordes of corpses, skies black with spirits. A bone dragon breathing frigid blasts, an archlich from legends commanding them. It looked like fighting an army singlehandedly..."

"..."

Derek could easily imagine.

6-Star mages dueling. The heavens collapsing, earth upheaving - truly apocalyptic.

Derek fully grasped both Phee and Melberot's magical prowess.

If Melberot took such critical damage, Phee couldn't be unscathed either. The scribe only retrieved Melberot because Phee was equally exhausted.

'He created an opening.'

Left unchecked, Phee's necromancy would snowball until consuming the region.

Melberot rushed in first to blunt that momentum. Buying time until other senior mages arrived was a viable strategy.

Indeed, over half Phee's forces were gone, the sturdy manor walls partially collapsed, and her creations looked worse for wear.

Archlich"Happy"was impaled through the chest onto the outer wall, the bone dragon had a torn wing - all Melberot's handiwork.

- Flap!

As Derek finished assessing the scene, the tent flap whipped open.

A bloodied, wounded Melberot staggered out.

"My lord! You mustn't move yet!"

"Sire! Your injuries are grave! Rest first!"

"Silence!"

Gritting his teeth, Melberot dragged his bleeding body outside.

Spotting Derek surveying the area, he wiped blood from his mouth and spoke.

"You're early. Witnessed my disgrace, I see."

"Are you alright?"

"Frankly? Not particularly."

The crimson-soaked bandages were impressive.

When Derek's mouth twitched downward, Melberot grimaced and shook his head.

Groaning in pain, he slumped onto a wooden chair beside Derek.

"Pierced her shoulder but took a thigh wound in return. Can't walk properly now."

"Your injuries are severe. Shouldn't you rest?"

"Can't do much in this state but... need to talk."

As concerned Rabiel approached, Melberot waved him off.

Wiping recurring blood from his lips and groaning, he finally steadied enough to shake his silver hair and continue.

"Gasp... gasp... Princess Rozelyn's forces will arrive within half a day. Kochella likely accompanies them. Time your assault with them."

"Countess Rodea's allied forces are coming too."

"Too slow. Must strike before that mad necromancer recovers. I'll... likely lose consciousness soon... so listen carefully..."

Clutching his scabbard, the pain-wracked Melberot glared.

He'd arrived first, dealt Phee a critical blow, assessed the manor's interior, and secured an entry route. His intelligence was paramount.

"That monster's necromancy is indiscriminate and potent. At 6-Star level, eye contact alone can kill instantly. Unless you're 6-Star yourself, resistance is impossible."

"..."

"But... there's a counter. Though it blankets areas in death, precise control falters at range. Understand? Hidden among troops, she won't use instant-death magic."

An ultimate technique that paints regions with death. Even Rocheste's elites were instantly annihilated.

The pinnacle of absurdity. Designed to terrify opponents.

Yet with Derek embedded among forces... Phee would never use that instant-death magic.

Phee would never kill Derek.

"With you... troops can breach the manor. You're pivotal for this extermination."

Melberot gripped Derek's shoulder with a bloodied hand.

"Though she paints everything with death, she'll never kill you."

"..."

"Listen... Elvester Border Count's already a corpse serving her. The manor's elite troops all follow her now, along with that sky-blotting dragon and archlich. I crippled them but they cling to life."

Thanks to Melberot's swift action, that massive legion couldn't grow further.

Now during this lull, reinforcements must deliver the finishing blow.

"Remember. Neutralize the outer wall's archlich, elite troops in the central garden, and the spire's bone dragon... they're all weakened... Bypass the border count's forces in the annex and capture Phee in the main building."

Melberot drew a large square in the sand with his scabbard.

Marking the broken wall, then the annex and main building positions.

"Path's cleared. Breach and capture their queen - Countess Rodea's reinforcements will handle the rest."

"Understood. Your wounds are severe - resume treatment immediately."

"Wounds... come naturally with war. Don't worry. I won't die before Sirine's coming-of-age ceremony."

Writhing in agony yet meeting Derek's gaze steadily, Melberot spoke.

"Wanted to finish her myself but fell short. Can I trust you to clean up?"

"Rest assured."

"Good. Finally shedding my pretenses today. If you conclude this properly... worthy... cough... gah..."

As Melberot vomited blood again, Rabiel rushed to support him.

Blood loss blurred Melberot's focus as his pupils dilated.

"Go rest, Melberot."

Emerging from the tent, Kalimford spoke while gripping a large oak staff.

He patted his old friend's shoulder as if acknowledging the grueling fight.

Then bowed deeply to the fading Melberot. By the time he awoke, Kalimford might be gone from this world.

A sparse farewell, but heartfelt.

"..."

Watching Rabiel help Melberot back inside, Kalimford raised his eyebrows.

He sat beside Derek, who stared at Elvester Manor, and spoke lightly.

"Being the empire's hero once isn't bad. In my experience, it gets you free meals for life."

"Did you think that when capturing Noir?"

"Hardly. I was trembling too much to even give a proper speech."

Kalimford smirked wryly beneath his robe.

As Derek stood and walked, the legendary archmage followed leisurely.

Heroes of old belong in history's shadows.

Kalimford gazed at the spirit-choked skies over Elvester Manor while walking behind Derek.

The swirling vortex of souls resembled heaven's gates.