Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 228

Chairman Damon's life resembled a drifting ship lost in turbulent seas.

Though born as the legitimate heir of the Levenheim family, the gods had granted him not courage or boldness, but merely the ability to handle paperwork and financial accounting at his desk.

These might be excellent skills for a practical manager, but they were ambiguous qualities for a ruler.

Nevertheless, he gritted his teeth and studied statecraft, never neglecting to learn about the essence of power. He researched magic, watched his elder brothers'moods, and attended territorial nobles'gatherings.

From his childhood days trembling like a frightened bird whenever assigned to weighty positions, to sleepless nights worrying about potential missteps in inter-family tensions.

From mediating territorial disputes at the Feylon regional noble council to representing bureaucratic nobles'interests after entering Gremfort Palace in the imperial capital.

Some might call such a life splendid.

But for Damon, each day was merely a continuation of survival.

He lacked the qualities of a ruler.

Yet his half-brother Gert had died with his head severed while suppressing the civil war in eastern Luxstain territory.

Hans became a cripple with severed limbs. When Damon came to his senses, he found himself the sole surviving heir.

Relatives coveting Damon's position fell one by one in secret struggles, while he clung trembling to his lifeline of power at the center of it all.

It had always been this way since childhood.

Whenever war broke out, Damon was always the one trembling in the rearmost lines, clutching his head in fear.

As years passed, experience accumulated, and he entered life's twilight... this essence never changed.

Eliminate risks as much as possible. Keep fearful things at maximum distance.

Just hold his current position, endure, and survive as long as possible by any means.

What is life?

Merely enduring.

Floating adrift on a bottomless ocean, never stopping his desperate flailing until strength runs out.

Even if the end means drowning in the abyss, life is nothing but struggling to survive each additional minute and second.

Through such endurance, those who marched ambitiously toward the lofty heavens died one by one.

Dreamers starved, and those reaching for the sky all fell to their deaths.

Those keeping their feet firmly on the ground while desperately enduring each day ultimately preserved their lifelines... continuing their wretched existence.

Damon was king of these wretched souls.

Each night as he lay down, he thought:

Kochella who speaks of stars, Rozelyn who speaks of ambition.

You know nothing of reality's terrors.

Those blindly trusting noble bloodlines and innate talent die meaninglessly.

To survive, one must conceal, hide, deceive, and endure.

This was the principle of long-lived veterans in this grueling battlefield.

Empress Rozelyn, research-obsessed Kochella.

This elderly grand mage sharing power equally with them in Gremfort Palace deceives anyone—even himself—to survive.

"I'd heard those reaching the pinnacle of summoning magic could conjure beings wielding 6th-Class magic."

If they could summon fictional creatures or legendary beasts, it wouldn't be surprising if they could call forth something even greater.

Marilyn.

As a devout follower of the Rohist Orthodox Church, Damon knew that name.

The direct disciple of Archangel Rohelm, one of the Elder Angels under Lord Rohist occupying the Six Wings position. A supreme being existing somewhere between human and angel.

Long considered purely fictional, but faith accumulated over vast years inherently holds power.

And this 6th-Class confusion mage manifested in 6th-Class mage Damon's grasp... had been exerting the deepest, most root-level influence beneath this power struggle.

"But you claim I'm a mage of that caliber...?"

Conceal everything.

The foundation of covert operations lies in hiding.

Shroud yourself in veils, watch for opportunities, and conceal your final card until the very end.

This was Damon's survival strategy that preserved his life through every political storm.

"I am the saint of holy war you manifested, existing to follow your commands."

In the rain-dappled forest, Marilyn's hair cascaded over her shoulders under the ink-colored sky.

"I... summoned you...?"

"Yes. Chairman Damon is the 6th-Class summoning mage believed nonexistent, the one coordinating events until now."

"I... have no memory of doing such things."

"Because I erased those memories."

Damon's eyes widened as he stared at Marilyn.

Though covered in magic-suppressing artifacts from Kochella, her remaining magical prowess remained considerable. She could likely overpower Damon if she wished.

Yet Marilyn showed no hostility, acting solely for Damon's benefit.

"Because Chairman Damon ordered me to do so."

"I... ordered my own memories erased...?"

"Yes. You often said the foundation of covert operations is concealment."

It was Damon's habitual phrase.

If you have secrets, hide them. Bury them two or three layers deep where none can easily trace them, consigning them to eternal darkness.

Thus he'd cast his own identity and all plans into the river of oblivion.

So even he himself couldn't know.

The realm of a 6th-Class summoning mage achieved after decades of training.

Upon reaching this pinnacle all mages revere, most would proclaim their achievement to the world, declaring they'd reached magic's summit.

But Chairman Damon, having navigated noble society for over thirty years, never announced his 6th-Class attainment despite this historic feat.

Instead he buried it as his personal secret—knowing it would become his most powerful weapon in this arena of schemes.

Only someone who'd lived like a castaway on stormy seas could make such a judgment. The habit of concealing and stockpiling everything as potential weapons was engraved in his psyche.

"Hah..."

Damon forced a laugh, wiping his face while perched on a log.

Stay calm.

Amid turbulent circumstances, he must clearly distinguish right from wrong.

Gremfort Palace's political arena was a continuous tightrope walk where one misstep meant plunging into the abyss. Decades surviving here granted him composure to remain calm in any situation.

"Very well, Marilyn. You're... the empire's most wanted regicide."

"..."

"Then I must ask this."

In the darkened forest.

Damon looked up at Marilyn from his seated position.

"──Was it my pre-amnesia self who ordered the emperor's assassination and theft of the imperial treasure, the staff?"

Marilyn nodded.

The forest's silence weighed heavily on Damon's shoulders. The unbelievable notion that he—of all people—was involved in such grand conspiracies seemed impossible to accept.

"Hah..."

Marilyn was essentially stating that Damon himself had orchestrated the emperor's assassination.

Accepting this heavy hypothesis felt like having an icy dagger plunged into his heart.

What was this sensation?

The battle-hardened Damon recognized it immediately.

Fear.

-'You understand what fear is.'

During the Luxstain territory civil war.

Melberot's words to Damon as he trembled in fear, clutching his head in a corner of the garrison. A memory that resurfaced whenever he tried to forget.

-'You'll survive a long time. And survival itself is strength.'

Damon's eyes widened.

"Marilyn. However I consider it, I find it hard to believe I'd take the initiative to assassinate the emperor."

"I understand. But... you'd already sensed it, hadn't you? That Chief Magic Advisor Kochella intends to kill Chairman Damon."

"..."

"Would Chairman Damon truly be the type to idly await death after discerning Kochella's intentions?"

6th-Class transformation mage Kochella.

Having noticed her murderous intent, Damon would surely have sought any means to overcome the situation.

"And that solution was regicide?"

"..."

What connection could regicide possibly have with surviving Kochella's threat?

Yet Damon, long experienced in these depths, quickly reached a conclusion.

With Emperor Gertrel assassinated, the most likely successor—Rozelyn—would ascend as empress.

As someone who detested the magic faction, she'd become Kochella's strongest check. More reliable than the aging, weakening Emperor Gertrel.

Kochella would focus on removing Rozelyn first, buying Damon time to divert her attention.

Merely granting the throne to its inevitable heir slightly earlier.

'But this isn't enough.'

It didn't explain why he'd tried to steal the"Light of the Empire."

Moreover, if Damon truly was a 6th-Class summoning mage... such extreme measures wouldn't be necessary.

Kochella never kills 6th-Class mages.

She spared regicide Marilyn and even tried recruiting necromancer Phee.

Simply revealing his 6th-Class status would have made Kochella abandon any murderous intentions.

Yet he hadn't.

Instead choosing the more difficult, audacious path.

Ordering the emperor's death, erasing his own memories, surrendering initiative to Empress Rozelyn, and burying everything in darkness.

The result—the truth behind the regicide at Ravenclaw Academy remained shrouded in mystery.

Had Derek not perfectly subdued Marilyn at the scene, all truth would have been buried in impenetrable darkness. Darkness so deep even Damon himself couldn't perceive it.

"Why... would I make such a choice? Was I trying to... conceal something?"

A labyrinth. Everything felt shrouded in fog.

Why execute such a reckless plan?

Recklessness.

As this word imprinted in his mind, Damon steadied himself again.

'If... Marilyn speaks truth... it might not have been so reckless after all.'

Having concealed his 6th-Class summoning mage status for decades, this secret represented Damon's ultimate trump card in political arenas.

A 6th-Class summoning mage whose existence was unknown. And the 6th-Class confusion mage he commanded.

Complete wildcards leaving no traces on stage. How could anyone counter such cheating-level covert operations?

Originally, everything should have proceeded as pre-amnesia Damon designed.

All truths buried in oblivion, leaving nothing exposed to the world.

But someone destroyed this absurd premise by capturing Marilyn at the scene.

Someone unearthed all truths meant for oblivion, bound the regicide Marilyn, and provided clues to dredge up Damon's hidden existence.

Baron Derek Raidof Ravenclaw.

His existence was the greatest variable demolishing all Damon's carefully laid plans.

'Ha... haha...'

Damon forced a laugh, bowing his head deeply in the rain.

Regaining his ragged breath, he managed another hollow chuckle.

Long survival in power means facing absurd trials.

He'd often felt everything was over.

When decades-long loyal subordinates betrayed him, when falsely accused countless times.

Yet this old mage always survived.

But even trials have limits.

Now awakening to find himself accused of regicide.

A 6th-Class transformation mage trying to kill him, while the most powerful figure—the emperor—became his parents'murderer.

Truths meant to remain submerged now exposed to the world by a young mage achieving impossible feats.

Derek was an overwhelming variable even Damon couldn't handle.

And Damon remembered none of it.

He'd come too far. A turbulent, dramatic journey.

Now truly, the world had abandoned him.

The heavens had collapsed with no escape.

Chilling despair crept up his spine.

In the rainy forest, he sank into profound frustration under the pattering drops.

From the thick, deep darkness... Damon slowly raised his head.

"Marilyn."

Emerging from this boundless despair, Damon spoke quietly.

His eyes shone with rationality.

"At this point, what must I do to survive?"

Marilyn held her breath momentarily.

Damon's strength came not from magical prowess.

That pure will to survive at all costs—what propelled him to the summit.

Survivors are strong by default.

Melberot's old words remained etched in memory.

A pure state unique to this old monster Damon—unreachable by Rozelyn or Kochella.

- Patter

Marilyn answered softly in the rain:

"You must kill both Empress Rozelyn and Kochella."

Her calm, quiet voice carried unbearable weight.