Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 58

- Drip, drip.

"It's raining."

Diela Catherine Duplein was utterly exhausted.

After spending two days completing debutante procedures around the imperial palace, she'd barely slept and only eaten scraps of meals.

Though there had been several dinner events in between, maintaining the elegant demeanor of a proper lady while dressed beautifully meant leaving most food untouched.

Maintaining grace while starving and fatigued was mentally draining work.

Somehow she'd managed to endure the capital's schedule, so the important events were mostly finished now.

Still, it wasn't completely over yet.

She still had to return to the main estate and attend the ball, displaying her dazzling presence as the event's centerpiece. Only after mingling with numerous distinguished guests and making impressions would she be recognized as a proper lady of House Duplein.

Gazing silently out the carriage window, Diela heaved a deep sigh.

The servant pouring tea beside her had accompanied Diela since the annex days - a loyal retainer who'd followed when Diela was granted the Evelstain estate.

"Since the ball's indoors, the rain shouldn't matter... I just hope my dress doesn't get wet during transit..."

"Don't worry too much, Lady Diela. The main house must have prepared for everything."

Watching the gradually intensifying raindrops, Diela held her breath and clenched her fists tightly.

This grueling process was almost over. She wanted to reach the estate quickly, see her beloved family, and at least thank them for their support.

For the usually emotionless Diela, even making such a resolution was unusual.

"Aiselin unnie, Valerian oppa, Raeg oppa... they've all suffered because of me..."

"..."

"I-I'd never say thank you without an occasion like this... So I must seize this chance..."

While Aiselin was one thing, everyone knew how desperately Valerian and Raeg had tried bonding with Diela. Grown men earnestly discussing girlish tastes to win over a teenage girl's favor was truly a pitiful sight.

Though overwhelmed by their efforts, Diela couldn't help considering opening her heart slightly to family who'd tried so hard.

In the rain-lashed carriage, Diela contemplated.

She hoped this debutante would become a turning point in her difficult life.

- Crash!

Entering the mansion's main hall revealed countless servants carrying food through the dim space.

"Gasp..."

Servants transporting trays, plates, linens and quilts simultaneously turned their heads toward Derek and Denis.

From the outer hall corridors to the main staircase, antique displays along the walls, even the basement stair entrance... The synchronized motion of countless servants turning as one sent shivers down Denis's spine.

Having just witnessed Head Butler Dellon's grotesque contortions, she gulped nervously. The other servants couldn't possibly be normal either.

As Derek reached for his sword in this tense moment:

"Excuse us."

The servants bowed uniformly before resuming their tasks.

Maids preparing the banquet hall, butlers polishing marble floors, squires carrying ropes and fabrics... All busied themselves with duties, utterly indifferent to Derek and Denis's arrival.

Their mechanical movements resembled programmed automatons.

They showed no concern about corpses swarming outside. Their unfocused eyes stared only at their assigned paths.

Denis felt inexplicable terror.

Derek knew necromancy included many enchantment spells similar to confusion magic. The servants must be under such influence.

Since they weren't attacking, the immediate threat seemed minimal.

Thinking this, Derek kicked over a display case to barricade the main entrance.

- Crash! Bang!

The blocked door shook violently as corpses outside struggled to break through.

Grabbing Denis's arm, Derek sprinted up the main hall staircase.

They bumped into numerous servants and maids along the way, but the workers simply stood back up to continue tasks without reacting to Derek's urgency.

Their behavior had been less unnatural during the initial welcoming.

The necromantic energy must be intensifying.

"D-Derek... The servants seem already consumed."

"If we stay idle, all the distinguished guests will meet the same fate. We must evacuate whoever we can. But first, there's somewhere we need to go."

Though the grounds swarmed with undead, a coordinated group might carve an escape path.

As Derek turned toward the guest chambers:

"Gasp...!"

Denis covered her mouth in shock.

The corridor revealed servants dragging unconscious nobles across the floor.

Most were magicians of considerable combat ability.

'Poison? Or ambush? They neutralized all the mages first.'

Derek calmly assessed.

The servants'empty eyes showed no awareness.

The Duplein estate was considered supremely secure - the last place anyone expected trouble. Guests had likely let their guards down.

Moreover, Duplein servants were famously professional and efficient.

This bred complacency. In the safest place with the most competent staff, who wouldn't relax?

Whether drugging drinks, sneaking up with knockout chemicals, or outright bludgeoning... Opportunities abounded for servants who could approach nobles freely.

"Just moving some luggage. Would you mind stepping aside?"

A maid dragging unconscious Baron Olden addressed Derek. Foam bubbled from his mouth.

Though bizarre, the maid remained expressionless while asking Derek to move.

The surreal scene made Denis repeatedly gulp.

"W-we must save the guests..."

"Please proceed."

Derek raised a hand to stop Denis, stepping back against the wall.

The maid bowed politely before dragging the old noble toward the main hall stairs.

Unless obstructed, the servants wouldn't attack.

They simply performed their enchanted duties.

Derek kept Denis pressed against the wall until all servants passed.

The procession dragged out various unconscious nobles - some foaming, others with twisted limbs, bleeding wounds, or rolled-back eyes... All were figures who'd normally command respect.

Once the corridor cleared briefly, Derek pressed forward.

Most room doors stood open. Few had anticipated Duplein servants attacking.

'Some might have sensed danger and hidden. We must find as many as possible.'

Dragging Denis by the arm, Derek entered a room labeled"Baron Olden."

He shoved Denis inside a wardrobe.

"D-Derek... Ah!"

"This is Baron Olden's room. You saw servants removing him earlier. Since he's already subdued, they won't return here. Stay hidden until the situation changes."

Identifying safe locations was crucial.

This seemed the safest option available.

"Derek... What about you?"

"I'll search for survivors. The grounds swarm with enchanted servants and corpses. Moving recklessly would endanger you, so stay here."

"I'm coming. I can handle basic detection magic."

"You're safer remaining."

"No. Derek. You think I'll let you dive into that den of death alone?"

Denis swallowed hard and spoke firmly.

"I can't allow that."

"Your hands are shaking."

"Eek!"

True to Derek's words, Denis still trembled violently.

Witnessing corpses contort grotesquely had overwhelmed her. Just controlling her ragged breathing exhausted her.

Yet Denis couldn't let Derek go alone.

She anticipated his arguments:

I can't leave Lady Denis alone. You're too precious to risk injury. What if something happens?

The usual noblewoman rhetoric. She prepared to retort that status meant nothing now.

But Derek was pragmatic.

"You'll only hinder me."

His bluntness stung, but held truth. In crisis, there was no time for niceties.

Denis's breath hitched. After seeing necromancy's horrors, she could barely move.

Following Derek would likely make her a liability or hostage.

"This is speculation... but Valerian is likely involved."

"V-Valerian? The Duplein heir? I heard he was kind and upright... He orchestrated this massacre?"

"I can't explain fully..."

-'If he dabbles in necromancy, you must kill him.'

Derek's mentor Drest Wolftail had warned.

If things went awry, Valerian might turn to necromancy.

The timing was too perfect to be coincidence.

"Once we grasp the situation, we'll understand. Survival comes first."

"Promise me one thing, Derek."

Trembling violently, Denis glared up at Derek.

"Don't die. No matter what, don't you dare die."

"Don't worry. That's my specialty."

- Creak

After firmly closing the wardrobe, Derek checked his longsword and thigh dagger.

Both remained well-maintained and sharp.

Taking a deep breath, he wiped his face and stepped into the corridor.

Busy servants simultaneously turned their heads toward him.

"..."

Derek remained alert but still.

Servants simply performed duties unless obstructed. Like in the main hall, they might ignore him.

Just then:

"May I ask your name?"

A high-ranking maid with a youthful face addressed him in a distorted voice. Bloody froth bubbled from her lips.

Unfazed, Derek countered:

"Why do you ask?"

"We're ordered to kill all visitors except specified mages."

The maid's casual delivery chilled the air.

"May I verify whether you're a specified mage or assassination target?"

"...Derek."

"Ah, Mr. Derek. The Beltus family's delegate. My apologies for not recognizing you sooner. House Duplein instructed us to treat you as nobility. How embarrassing."

"No matter. Are we finished?"

"Yes. However, Mr. Derek is an assassination target."

Before she finished speaking, a rotting arm sprouted from her left shoulder.

- Snick! Thrust!

As claws lashed out, Derek already crouched low.

He'd hoped to avoid combat, but that hope died instantly.

Without hesitation, Derek's blade severed the maid's head.

- Splurt! Gush!

A crimson fountain sprayed across Derek's face.

The metallic stench assaulted his nose, but Derek shook it off calmly.

- Thud!

The headless maid collapsed.

Instantly, nearby servants fixed eerie stares on Derek.

Before their distorted voices emerged, Derek's magic arrows pierced their throats.

- Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

As Derek advanced while firing, the beheaded maid's body grabbed his ankle.

Drawing his dagger reverse-grip, Derek severed the arm instantly.

When butlers charged, Derek summoned more magic.

- Whoosh!

A 2-Star"Fireball"erupted from his hand toward the floor.

The narrow corridor offered no retreat. To create an exit, Derek blasted through.

- KABOOM!

The explosion shook the mansion.

Below lay private rooms for family members.

Derek planned to drop down toward Valerian's quarters.

If Valerian led this massacre, stopping him might end it.

- Whooosh!

- Crash!

Dust filled the corridor as the hole revealed the floor below.

Derek prepared to roll into the lower hallway, putting distance between Denis and the servants.

- Snick!

His cloak billowed as he dropped down, rolling upon landing.

Brushing off dust, he realized this wasn't a hallway.

An enormous personal chamber - likely belonging to a direct Duplein descendant.

Armor, training equipment, study desks and guest sofas filled the space.

One wall displayed a continental map beside military treatises.

Clearly an exceptional individual's room. As Derek rose, he noticed a figure seated at the central table.

Remaining calm amidst chaos already signaled abnormality.

"...What are you doing here?"

The lone figure among equipment was familiar.

Short-cropped hair, sturdy build, sharp eyebrows, and a noble uniform adorned with medals.

But his vacant eyes showed no awareness. He didn't react to Derek's dramatic entrance.

Derek tightened his sword grip, gathering magic in his other hand.

- Clink

Armor beneath formalwear clinked as the muscular noble stood.

"...Derek."

Raeg, Valerian's younger brother.

The Duplein family's second son who secretly doted on Diela and Aiselin.

The brawny man stared coldly before speaking distorted words:

"Death... comes... sweet... glorious... embrace..."

- Drip.

Blood oozed from his mouth.

Crimson necromantic energy swirled in his eyes.

Derek understood.

Raeg was beyond communication.

"Derek... you... gurgle... choke... not dead yet."

"..."

His body convulsed before suddenly speaking clearly, eyes locking onto Derek.

The dissonance was chilling.

As the hulking Raeg rose amid crimson energy:

- Bang!

Magic arrows struck where Derek stood.

Dust bloomed, but Derek had already rolled aside. His reflexes outpaced spellcasting.

Through the haze, Derek assessed Raeg's condition and sighed deeply.

"Hoo..."

Raeg was clearly no longer himself.

─A decision had to be made.