Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 221

-'Still cowering in a corner out of fear, Damon?'

-'Seems Providence granted you talent for finance and accounting, but not an ounce of courage or guts. To think the heir of House Levenheim and frontrunner of the Empire's central bureaucratic nobles would be so spineless...'

-'I told you, Gert! This bastard belongs behind a desk, not a battlefield!'

Though Damon had now experienced countless battles with no remaining fears, even he had his awkward fledgling days.

Pressed by family prestige to join the army suppressing the civil war in eastern Luxstine region, he'd nearly been struck by an arrow when first stepping onto the battlefield bearing a noble's destiny.

The heavy whistling wind from the arrow grazing his earlobe.

The projectile struck the horse of a soldier behind him instead, but Damon was so startled he fell from his mount and tumbled across the ground.

Cradling his head while trembling on the grass—that pathetic sight remained vividly etched in Damon's memory even now after so many years.

Young Damon, heir to a rising bureaucratic noble house.

The soldiers couldn't openly laugh at his dismount—the gap in authority was too overwhelming.

Yet he still vividly recalled the subtle mood spreading among those troops.

Their barely concealed disappointment at the clueless noble young master amidst the chaotic battlefield.

His half-brothers Gert and Hans had bravely drawn swords and charged ahead against enemies.

As if declaring they were nothing like that pathetic heir—fearless and valiant, truly worthy of leading House Levenheim while that desk-bound weakling should be dragged down immediately.

That day, Damon's brother Gert died with his head severed, while Hans lost his right arm and nearly perished.

-'You understand what fear is.'

Someone spoke to Damon as he cowered trembling in a corner of the garrison, clutching his head.

Word had already spread through camp about the legendary figure arriving from the northern continent to annihilate the rebels.

His impossibly youthful appearance for his age made him seem almost otherworldly, as if blessed with eternal life.

Clad in plate armor engraved with eagle motifs, his silver hair flowing—this Grand Mage was named Melberot. Though not yet reached 6th-Class magic in his relatively young age, none could deny his absurd magical prowess defying his years.

A monster who achieved 5th-Class faster than anyone in history.

Passing through the garrison, he looked down at Damon trembling fearfully between supply crates and spoke.

-'Among nobles rushing to battlefields, I've yet to see one trembling in fear. Yet you—heir to the central bureaucratic nobles'inner circle—aren't swayed by hollow honor.'

-'Are you... reprimanding me...?'

-'No, I'm admiring you. You're cautious by nature, leaving no danger unchecked. Whatever happens, you'll survive to show your face again.'

For nobles living and dying by honor, fear itself was a weapon.

Never dismiss even one-in-a-million risks, lest you perish meaninglessly chasing empty glory.

This seemed to be Melberot's conviction.

Damon still remembered Melberot's back as he trudged toward the battlefield, leaving the trembling young noble behind.

The young genius who'd just reached 5th-Class.

The magic he unleashed to suppress rebels devouring the eastern coastline became seared into young Damon's widened eyes.

5th-Class combat magic—"Gravity Tuning."

As Melberot trudged across the battlefield, every enemy charging toward him was forced to their knees, pressing hands against the ground.

Unable to withstand the overwhelming physical force crushing their bodies, all beings in the area knelt as if greeting a king's arrival.

- KABOOOM! WHOOOOSH!

The world bowed its head.

The grassy central garden of Amarilis House and its trees all leaned under some irresistible colossal force. Even marble structures and shattered wall fragments littering the ground were pulled downward.

Strollers and academic staff alike were forced to brace against the ground by this tremendous pressure.

Magic beyond 4th-Class enters the realm of"war magic"—its scale becomes immense.

At 5th-Class, mages below 3rd-Class can't even resist the magic's deployment scale.

- WHOOOOOSH!

The magical aura radiating from Derek as he crossed the central garden extended its influence even to gravity itself—the most impartial force in nature.

Watching this scene from Amarilis House's main building windows, Chairman Damon's eyes widened.

- CRACK! WHOOSH!

Damon quickly deployed his own magic to escape Derek's influence—only possible because he himself was an accomplished 5th-Class mage.

No one else in Amarilis House could have resisted this combat magic's effects.

While 6th-Class magic might be seen once in a lifetime if one's lucky, 5th-Class could theoretically be witnessed at least once.

Yet those seeing 5th-Class magic for the first time often become too stunned to process reality. No need to even mention 6th-Class.

Magic of such scale seems to violate natural laws and challenge Providence itself.

The 5th-Class combat magic"Gravity Tuning"radiating from Derek commanded awe from all merely by its manifestation.

'Even faster than Lord Melberot was...'

Chairman Damon couldn't believe his eyes despite witnessing it firsthand.

When Melberot first used 5th-Class magic in Luxstine's civil war, he was already quite aged.

Derek had manifested gravity magic of similar scale at less than half that age. The implications of this achievement were beyond ordinary minds.

'This man... will undoubtedly become a 6th-Class mage.'

Damon's pupils trembled intensely.

- KWA-GA-GAK! WHOOOOOOSH!

Windows began shattering explosively from buildings nearest Derek.

As someone who cherished Ravenclaw Academy, Derek rarely initiated property damage himself.

But Derek had come to acknowledge something.

The rebellious spirit of adolescent girls in their stormy phase. Trying to control them with noble-like, gentlemanly methods inevitably had limits.

Teen girls being rowdy wasn't unusual. But since Derek needed to maintain order... he'd resolved to demonstrate the difference in power.

- WHOOOOOSH!

Activating acceleration magic, Derek leaped through the shattered wall.

Inside, Sepia Dormitory's young noblewomen—the incident's instigators—were pinned to the ground by gravity magic.

"C-can't move...! C-can barely... lift my head...!"

"L-Lady Rina...! T-try to... come... here... ugh...!!!! R-Raven...cl..."

Seeing Derek radiating immense magical energy at the room's center, Sepia's ladies all gulped nervously.

Common sense suggested Derek wouldn't use force against scions of influential families—no physical violence or verbal abuse.

Derek was sensible. Surely such norms applied.

Yet their instincts screamed otherwise.

Regardless of Derek's gentlemanly nature, they were overwhelmed by this staggering display of power far beyond imagination.

Facing a colossal wave head-on leaves one trembling uncontrollably even in safety—such instinctive fear can't be erased.

Surveying Sepia's wrecked research room as he strode forward, Derek glared down at the instigators struggling to remain prone.

The intimidation in his gaze crawled across their skin.

5th-Class mage.

The weight behind that title can't be understood without firsthand experience.

And now the gathered young ladies felt it to their bones as Derek approached. If Derek decided to crush them, he could wipe out Amarilis House's students without batting an eye.

Standing at Sepia's center, Derek spoke softly:

"...State your excuses now if you have any."

"Seems you've expanded your 5th-Class repertoire. Barely any time has passed since you broke through in Elvester Territory..."

"I trained diligently during my convalescence. Breaking through the threshold was hardest—after that, progress came quickly as my perspective widened."

"...You truly live immersed in magic."

"So I've been told."

When Sepia's representative Tricia rushed over desperately pleading, Derek sighed deeply and temporarily pardoned the troublemakers.

He sternly warned this was a final pardon for Tricia's sake—next time there'd be no mercy. Sepia's offenders were already pale-faced, nodding frantically. Their bloodless faces resembled corpses.

However, since the pardon was granted"for Tricia's sake,"her standing within Sepia seemed to have risen unintentionally.

Though Tricia herself appeared more burdened, sweating profusely. Seeing her terrified expression, Derek's anger somewhat dissipated out of pity.

With the situation resolved, Derek returned to the conference room for tea with Chairman Damon.

Campus life normalized, but this incident would be remembered by staff and students alike.

The first time Derek became furious enough to demonstrate his power. A clear warning that Baron Ravenclaw would personally mete out punishment if lines were crossed again.

This unspoken declaration was imprinted across the academy. Most future incidents would likely be prevented.

Not how Derek wanted to enforce discipline, but unavoidable.

Returning to the reception room after resolving everything, Derek felt awkward. Showing such loss of composure before Chairman Damon... he wondered what impression he'd made.

Yet Chairman Damon spoke candidly:

"I came to recruit you. But... seeing your magic firsthand changed my mind."

Setting down his teacup, Damon studied Derek with folded arms.

At Derek's puzzled look, Damon slowly shook his head.

"Currently your status and authority may rank below mine—but only due to youth and inexperience. I pride myself on judging character. Can't have a wolf among jackals."

"You flatter me."

"I don't give empty compliments. Someday you might recruit me—but me recruiting you seems unrealistic."

Derek looked surprised.

For a central noble council heavyweight, he'd expected more arrogance.

Princess Rozelyn always described Chairman Damon as a cowardly snake avoiding risky choices.

Partly accurate, partly not. Derek tried reading Damon's intentions but found nothing obvious.

Damon narrowed his wrinkled eyes and spoke gravely:

"Gremfort Palace is in shambles now. People will say I carved out territory from this chaos to stand tall as an ambitious man. But they're mistaken."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. Unlike Princess Rozelyn or Kochella, I simply want to protect what's mine and survive. Avoiding dangers and eliminating threats brought me here—nothing more."

Damon continued wistfully:

"Know what's hardest in central noble circles? Surviving."

"..."

"The power ladder works thus—once you start climbing, you can't stop midway. Survival means ascending further until you find yourself at the top."

Despite aging and gaining experience, he remained fundamentally unchanged from that fearful young noble cowering in a garrison corner.

That very fear had kept him alive. Those who'd once debated noble honor with Damon now lay as dust in the imperial cemetery.

"I'm a survivor in any political climate. Yet even so, the world remains unpredictable."

Damon studied Derek intently.

As if seeing someone else in this talented young man.

Bowing his head deeply, Damon sighed:

"So I'll tell you this."

As a central noble heavyweight, his words carried weight.

And what he said was:

"If I'm found dead, my killer will be Kochella."

The air froze.

"That madwoman will stop at nothing to reach 7th-Class. She rejoiced at finding traces of a 6th-Class mage even as Elvester County burned under her watch—that's how deranged she is."

"..."

"Beware that lunatic. That's all I have to say here today."

With that, Chairman Damon slowly rose.

Derek sensed it.

Though Damon spoke candidly, he was still concealing much.

But Derek had no grounds to press further now.