Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 269

"Good heavens, what is all this...?"

Freya stood dumbfounded from the very entrance of Count Ravenclaw's estate.

As a descendant of the prestigious Elvester family renowned across the continent, she'd attended countless lavish parties during her upbringing.

Though her family's main house had now crumbled to the point of collapse, and she was currently receiving various practical life lessons from her mentor Katia... her noble upbringing hadn't completely faded.

"..."

Yet even for her, the scale of Count Ravenclaw's wedding venue was beyond ridiculous.

Normally, the entrance to a count's estate would be modestly bustling, with only a few distinguished guests visible upon reaching the main hall... but Count Ravenclaw's estate was already packed to the brim before one even stepped inside.

Moreover, every single passing carriage was gilded with gold.

Pick any random carriage and peer inside—you'd inevitably find some high-ranking noble of immense authority. Though it was the wedding of a figure holding hegemony over the southwestern continent, she'd never imagined it would be on this scale.

"It's only been about two months since the power struggle at Gremfort Palace concluded with Empress Rozelyn's victory... In this still-unsettled political climate, an event hosted by a likely next power holder carries significant meaning. It's inevitable that all sorts of minor nobles would come flocking."

"M-Mentor... Though I can no longer call myself a noble lady... being in such a place makes me feel like such an outsider..."

"No need to act so awkward. However you look at it, you're a properly invited guest given your past relationship with him."

Having relinquished her authority as a noble lady to formally become Katia's apprentice, Freya still retained traces of her noble upbringing. But even so, this scale was overwhelming.

"I don't think even Gremfort Palace's annual events are this grand..."

"Well, with Empress Rozelyn herself attending in person, it can't be any less impressive..."

"I never imagined Mentor Katia's disciple would become such a heavyweight..."

"I knew Derek would become an exceptional mage... but I never imagined he'd rise this high."

Derek had sent a letter inviting Katia through his most trusted subordinate.

Expecting some mustachioed bureaucrat to arrive as escort, Freya was surprised when a young mercenary girl appeared to guide them to Count Ravenclaw's estate.

"All this pomp is just empty ceremony. Gathering crowds for a meaningless wedding feast will only make you fat. I just hope Derek doesn't lose his edge. Ugh."

Pellin, sitting on the carriage roof swinging her legs, sighed deeply while muttering to herself.

Though she'd nodded at Derek's earnest request to escort this important guest properly... she much preferred monster hunting to guard duty.

Well, for a big event like this, she'd make an exception.

Muttering to herself, she gazed indifferently at the crowded wedding venue at Count Ravenclaw's estate.

Finally done pretending to be someone's fake wife or whatever annoying business that was. If bored, she could just go drinking or occasionally hunt monsters.

Having fulfilled her old friend's request this much, she figured she might as well give some congratulatory applause.

It was a joyous day for a comrade who'd shared life and death with her.

For such an occasion, it wouldn't hurt to play along. With that thought, Pellin continued lounging on the carriage roof, idly swinging her legs.

"Oh my, Lady Aiselin. You look absolutely radiant. Your usual work dresses were already dazzling enough to blind the eyes, but in this bridal attire, you're truly like a flower blooming on a cliff edge."

"Do you remember? This is Lady Phiris who handled affairs at the Rosea Salon. You once debated theories of mortality with her at the academic conference. What an honor to meet again at this wedding."

"Her Majesty Rozelyn personally appointed me. I'm Ricardo, Chancellor of the Royal Court. I've come all the way from the imperial capital to pay respects to Lady Aiselin, the flower of the Duplein family. Would you kindly accept this bouquet?"

A stream of lavish greetings from noble families poured into the bridal chamber where Aiselin was being adorned.

Each one was a heavyweight in their region—not people she could casually dismiss. Maintaining her smile, Aiselin exchanged pleasantries with each guest.

Though this was an occasion celebrating matrimonial joy, it was also a battlefield of social warfare among power-hungry nobles. Where elites gather, ambition inevitably follows.

Dealing with such characters was exhausting, but Aiselin had no attention to spare, wholly focused on preparing for the imminent ceremony. Getting distracted by side matters would risk neglecting the most important event.

Having steeled herself thus, Aiselin still found moments where she had to suppress sighs.

"...............................Congratulations, sister."

"..............................."

Like when Diela arrived with complicated expressions.

".........Co-congratulations, Lady Aiselin."

".............."

Elennte was no different.

"Hmm...."

Denis simply observed the atmosphere cautiously.

"I'm not really congratulating you."

"..."

By the time it came to Melberot and Sirine, they didn't even bother hiding their true feelings.

From the perspective of direct disciples who'd had designs on Count Ravenclaw, Aiselin was little more than a stray cat that had suddenly jumped onto their stove.

Though they probed at Derek and Aiselin's relationship just in case, Aiselin couldn't very well apologize here, leaving her no choice but to smile awkwardly.

"Lady Aiselin... y-you're so beautiful. To think the always lofty Lady Aiselin, like a flower on a cliff, has found her partner... I'm moved... so moved...!"

Thus, when Trisha offered her sincere congratulations... Aiselin nearly teared up.

In this complex world of nobility, transparently honest Trisha was more precious than gold.

"L-Lady Trisha..."

"Lord Ravenclaw is such an outstanding man. Truly a match made in heaven—just seeing you together warms my heart. And finally... finally... Mother won't be making unreasonable demands about Lord Ravenclaw anymore... *sniff*..."

"Is... is that so...?"

"Oh... I-I've said too much... Anyway... you must live happily! Absolutely!"

Even the arrogant, haughty Trisha could offer genuine congratulations for such an occasion.

Overwhelmed by this refreshing sincerity, Aiselin could only nod with tearful eyes.

"...By the way, where is Lord Ravenclaw? I should pay my respects..."

"W-well..."

Noticing something amiss, Trisha tilted her head.

Despite this grand celebration, the groom himself was conspicuously absent.

Having the bride alone receiving guests seemed odd—clearly there was some circumstance.

"I knew you'd be here."

Behind Count Ravenclaw's estate stood a large zelkova tree on a hill.

Rooted firmly in the warm grassland, leaning against its trunk gave a panoramic view of the estate—a scenic spot frequented by servants for breaks.

Using detection magic, Derek had sensed someone here and come up before the important event.

As Derek chewed on a large loaf of bread and trudged up to lean against the tree... the old mage enjoying the autumn breeze beside him lowered his head.

The face beneath the robe's shadow was familiar despite the wrinkles—a face rarely seen.

An elusive figure, wandering the continent yet occasionally appearing.

But even such a reclusive person wanted to witness his only disciple's wedding, hence his presence here.

Though he'd receive grand hospitality at the estate, this mage disliked such fuss.

"Only Melberot ever detected me with detection magic before."

"Whose disciple do you think I am?"

Though pressed for time while chewing bread, Derek apparently felt the need to see Drest Wolftail's face once more.

Derek bore no resentment. As a master of detection magic, Drest's comings and goings were naturally unpredictable.

"As you can see, the estate's atmosphere isn't to your liking, Mentor Drest."

"Just came to observe. Since I'm here, I should offer congratulations."

"I gratefully accept."

Though mentor and disciple shared a special bond on this joyous day... these brief exchanges sufficed. Both knew each other well enough.

"You were at Elvester's estate, Gremfort Palace too... Probably watched the clashes at Beltus Mansion as well. You've always observed everything."

"A ghost like me can appear anywhere."

"May I ask one thing? If Grand Mage Adelbert—the pinnacle of time magic—is future me, why did I go to the past?"

Derek wanted to resolve one final doubt.

The mage who reached the stars, Adelbert.

That he'd someday call himself that grand mage and reach for the sky meant he'd traveled to the past.

Going back to ancient times to study magic's essence and become its greatest master.

But if research was the goal, why the past? Even after achieving his purpose, he could've returned to his original timeline.

Yet historical Adelbert remained in the past, wandering ghostlike before disappearing.

There must be a reason. Perhaps... Derek speculated...

"Did I go to meet Mentor Phee, and something happened? What could prevent my return?"

"Not couldn't return—chose not to."

"..."

Derek pondered this.

Life continues.

Leading the Ravenclaw School, researching magic's essence, pursuing remaining mysteries until death.

A purposeful life inevitably finds beauty. Derek's life too would someday reach a beautiful conclusion.

"...I see."

After tasting life's fullness, his future self would finally meet Phee.

To impart a lifetime of magical wisdom to her still-unenlightened self. To witness and safeguard her journey.

Like a ghost.

Much like someone else.

Derek studied Drest quietly before closing his eyes in the autumn breeze.

"They say life is a journey without promise."

"..."

"Was it enjoyable?"

The old mage gazed down at Count Ravenclaw's estate bathed in warm sunlight.

Reasonably happy people exchanging reasonably happy words with reasonably happy expressions. Life wouldn't always be rosy, but for now, sharing joy held meaning.

That seemed good enough. Humans naturally live embracing uncertain happiness.

"This was reasonably good. Had some meaning."

"I see. That's fortunate."

Drest leaned quietly against the tree and gently closed his eyes.

Wrinkled arms still sagged with age. At an age where death wouldn't surprise, and Derek knew... his original end would be lonelier than imagined.

Derek rose, brushing himself off.

Drest remained seated, unlikely to respond if called. As if having completed his role, peacefully relinquishing strength.

His dirt-streaked hands looked thin in the breeze rustling his robes.

As his wide hat blew off, his sleeping face appeared utterly serene.

Though tempted to arrange his rest, that peaceful expression stayed Derek's hand.

For now, he must want to sit here, gazing down at the estate receiving everyone's blessings.

So Derek postponed matters. After the event, he'd ensure proper rest.

Brushing off his pants, Derek finished chewing the bread before tossing the remainder aside and trudging toward the waiting estate.

The rich butter aroma lingered in his nose.