Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 254

"A being summoned by a summoner must obey their commands and orders no matter what. Even you, Marilyn, are no exception."

Even after learning the truth about Damon, Derek's attitude remained unchanged.

No matter how wretched or glorious Damon's life had been... it held no relevance to Derek who now stood as his adversary.

If anything, Marilyn's words only confirmed one thing.

As a being summoned by 6-Star summoner Damon, she had no choice but to carry out his commands. Even if she appeared submissive now, she might change her mind at any moment upon receiving new orders.

Thus, Derek continued with the same cold expression.

"I don't trust you. As long as you're bound to Chairman Damon, you'll always act in his interests—that much is clear."

"You're absolutely right. Bowing before Count Ravenclaw now is indeed the wisest decision to save Chairman Damon... I'm fully aware of this. So there's no contradiction in my actions."

"You're saying all this is for Chairman Damon's sake?"

"That is correct."

Derek looked down at Marilyn with icy eyes.

The fact that Damon had manifested Marilyn—a saint from mythology who resembled his long-lost lover Rasa—showed how much he cherished this woman.

Yet sending such a treasured subordinate to surrender felt strangely unconvincing.

"One question."

Count Derek Raidof Ravenclaw was known for his keen insight.

This was already common knowledge across the southwestern continent.

The white-haired man, still mounted on his horse despite his battered body, stared directly at Marilyn.

There was something incongruous in her story—a detail that didn't quite add up. His tone suggested he wouldn't let it slide.

He voiced his suspicion bluntly.

"A summoned being acts for its summoner and cannot harm them. They must obey all commands and cannot harbor independent thoughts."

"That is true."

"Then I must ask. You claimed Chairman Damon planned Emperor Gertrel's assassination himself, carried it out, then erased all memories of his former lover Rasa."

He would do anything to survive.

Damon was a man driven by sheer survival instinct. This was the lesson Rasa had engraved in his heart when she embraced him in that village at the war's edge.

Clutching that single phrase to his chest, he had endured his arduous life again and again.

And now, in life's twilight.

Having reached nobility's pinnacle, observing the world from above.

The vengeful spirit still raging in his chest kept searching for its target.

Perhaps at his age, with a hardened mind that understood revenge's futility... he had realized something.

If he died a miserable death, it would be because of this lingering vengeance.

After brutally killing the village chief, executing everyone connected to Rasa's death, walking that bloodstained path over and over... yet still feeling the hatred in his heart, he must have understood.

Even if he assassinated the emperor at the end of this spiraling vendetta, would he find peace?

They say revenge ends in emptiness. After toppling the empire's pinnacle, could he truly settle into that promised void?

Probably not.

Whether new chains would begin at that end, or if everything would truly conclude.

Whether this consuming rage would subside, sinking into that ordained emptiness—he couldn't know.

And as if mocking him, the world presented Rozelyn—a new protagonist of vengeance—to haunt him.

Damon must have finally realized.

At both the beginning and end stood Rasa—the woman who held him in that shabby church.

Her whispered plea for him to survive by any means had kept the noble Damon alive.

Thus, Damon lived by Rasa's dying wish.

Yet the curse dragging him to death also stemmed from that same woman's grudge. The chain of vengeance she started had pursued him relentlessly.

Her existence had given Damon life, and now it would take it from him.

"You said you erased Damon's memories?"

Derek asked from horseback.

At this, Marilyn's expression darkened.

The moment she erased Damon's memories seemed vividly fresh.

It had been a starry night.

She watched his contemplative silhouette sitting quietly on the balcony.

He had ordered her to assassinate the emperor. Once commanded, she had to obey. Issued orders never faded.

Yet before departing to fulfill this command, doubt coiled in this 6-Star Confusion Mage's mind.

Was this truly leading Damon to a better life? Could her summoner pursue wholeness under this curse?

If she truly served her summoner, if she wished him ultimate peace... what must she fundamentally do to save him?

Marilyn saw the vengeful spirit clinging to the old noble's back like a curse.

The image of that poor, kind-hearted woman from the decrepit church... the ancient grudge leading him to the abyss.

"Did you erase Damon's memories on his orders?"

Derek's question struck deep.

A penetrating inquiry that pinpointed who had initiated this abyssal situation.

Who had exposed the old fox's weakness after decades surviving noble politics?

"Or was it your own decision?"

Marilyn didn't answer.

In the dawn's chill, she simply bowed her head deeply, teeth clenched.

That was answer enough.

"I see. So that's how it is."

Melberot quietly sheathed his sword and gradually dispelled the transformation magic that had dominated the space.

The lake-like battlefield vanished, restoring the orderly ministerial conference room as if nothing had happened. Yet much had changed.

He looked down at Damon, kneeling on the floor, trembling and bleeding profusely.

Damon hadn't even managed proper resistance.

Few could defeat Melberot one-on-one, but this level of helplessness was unexpected.

Yet Damon had been maintaining Marilyn—an extraordinary entity that consumed massive magic power just by existing.

Already subdued by Kochella, Marilyn couldn't even exert her full power. At that point, her utility was effectively spent.

Still, Damon hadn't dismissed her summon.

Neither utilizing nor discarding her... as if driven by some instinct he couldn't comprehend, he kept her bound in this limbo.

Now Melberot understood—this was the curse gripping Damon.

Closing his eyes, Melberot murmured quietly.

"Not even worth killing."

"Th-thank..."

In a strangled voice, Damon bowed his head again.

"Thank... you..."

"No need. I never said you'd survive."

"Wha...t...?"

"Someone else will kill you—someone more suited to the role."

At that moment—

- All guards to the main gate...! Alert the captain...!

- Her Majesty Rozelyn...! Her Majesty Rozelyn has returned...! Crossing the drawbridge now...! All personnel assemble...!

- The empire's ruler has returned! Her Majesty Rozelyn lives!

- Hail! Prepare to receive Her Majesty Rozelyn, Gremfort Palace's true master!

Dawn hadn't even broken.

Yet already, soldiers'shouts echoed throughout Gremfort Palace at this early hour.

Empress Rozelyn was returning.

Amidst this chaos, the missing ruler had come back.

That brief, monumental announcement spoke volumes.

Gremfort Palace's majestic main gate.

Piercing the dawn's darkness, the sun rose in the eastern sky.

The great drawbridge lowered, and a girl on horseback crossed over.

Even from the conference room window, her distant figure was visible—the cold, heavy expression of a girl returning in triumph, bearing immeasurable resentment.

Chairman Damon had killed her father.

Just as he had resented the world for Rasa's death, this young empress now carried her father's vengeance on her back.

A tidal wave of karma came crashing down.

No matter how much one evaded it, diving deeper only meant facing a stronger backlash later. Everything was predestined.

"Count Ravenclaw."

Dawn came to Raven Valley too.

Watching the sunrise, Marilyn spoke almost whispering.

It was Marilyn who assassinated Emperor Gertrel under Damon's orders.

A summoned being cannot disobey its summoner's commands.

Once given, an order must be fulfilled, so Marilyn undertook this final murder bearing all karma and memories. Leaving behind a master who had completely shed his past, she shouldered the entire burden.

Yet one thing was certain.

This assassination would be the last spawned by Damon's grudge.

Thus, everything had to conclude here.

The truth of Emperor Gertrel's assassination should have remained buried in darkness, unknown to all.

A crime committed by a 6-Star Confusion Mage is nearly impossible for even high-ranking mages to unravel. It should have been the perfect crime. That was common sense.

Some unknown rebel faction brutally murdered Emperor Gertrel for his staff"Light of the Empire"—that fabricated truth could have severed this cursed chain.

"..."

If not for one man who miraculously captured a 6-Star Confusion Mage at the crime scene.

The chain of vengeance would have sunk into the abyss with the truth of Emperor Gertrel's death... quietly settling into oblivion.

If only Count Derek Raidof Ravenclaw hadn't existed.

"Please... spare Chairman Damon—"

"No."

Derek refused outright.

Though the struggle to survive at all costs might be noble, sometimes it goes too far.

Some things are more precious than life. At least, Derek believed so.

For Damon, memories of Rasa were likely his reason for living. Even if they now drove him to death.

"In the end, you're the one killing Chairman Damon."

The once proud, arrogant Confusion Mage was gone.

In this overturned reality, Marilyn could only grit her teeth in silent self-reproach.

"Damn it all..."

The swallowed curse revealed her true nature—more warrior than saint.

Yet now she stood quietly in the dawn's light, holding her breath like a holy figure. Perhaps because she truly was that saint from the scriptures.

Marilyn had killed Damon.

Yet ironically, she had also saved him.

"...Melberot, Marilyn, Damon, Drest, Phee... and Derek."

Dawn breaks, and many things awaken.

At Gremfort Palace's center, beneath the clocktower of the Lily Palace... an old mage in crimson robes rose to his feet.

"At last, preparations are complete. Even after all these years, my heart races like a maiden's at fulfilling this long-cherished wish."

The Big Dipper still faintly visible at dawn's edge.

Kochella smiled beneath the massive bell, eyes glinting strangely.

Morning had come—time to rise at last.