Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 63

- CRASH!

The skeletal giant's fist smashed into the wall, sending debris flying as it began to collapse completely.

From within the wreckage, Valerian charged forward with crimson glowing eyes, swinging his sword toward Derek.

His ability to wield 4-star necromancy while simultaneously fighting with a sword demonstrated astonishing concentration. He had already surpassed his limits. No trace of reason remained in his cornered mind.

If Derek stood in his way, he would simply remove Derek. That simple causality was all that filled his thoughts now.

The fallen noble's path was indeed a wretched thing to behold, and Derek felt a sliver of pity for him.

But wrong was wrong. Derek was someone who intensely guarded against indecisiveness born of misplaced compassion.

- THUD!

Valerian must have already reached his limit.

He had enchanted the mansion's servants, controlled countless undead creatures, and commanded the massive skeletal giant.

Even wielding Rozin's staff, simultaneously managing necromancy of this scale was pushing himself to the brink.

- CLANG!

Derek moved with animalistic agility, closing the distance to press against Valerian's chest.

His reverse-gripped dagger stabbed through a gap in Valerian's armor at the wrist. The sudden surge of pain nearly made Valerian drop the staff, but he gritted his teeth and endured.

- THUD!

Valerian kicked Derek away to create distance, then immediately issued new commands to the skeletal giant.

The sheer physical force behind each of that colossal skeleton's strikes made them impossible to block or deflect with a human body. The only option was complete avoidance.

Valerian knew this well, and was gathering mana to intensify his assault when—

"Valerian...brother...!"

The familiar voice calling his name made Valerian's pupils tremble violently.

His body seemed to momentarily lose all strength, shuddering uncontrollably. Derek didn't miss the opening, driving a kick into Valerian's solar plexus.

- CRASH! BANG!

Valerian tumbled across the ground before rolling to a stop near the garden flower beds.

In the pouring rain, he struggled to rise and finally looked toward Aiselin.

Though he'd been avoiding her gaze, the time had come to face reality.

The father he'd respected above all others had fallen by his own hand. Unable to bear the guilt of slaughtering his family, he'd let his sanity slip away.

Even as he forced his broken body up to atone for his sins, Valerian had to confront the truth.

The family he'd loved so dearly included more than just his father.

Beyond the shattered wall, the girl trembling beside Diela's bed was also someone Valerian had cherished deeply.

"...Aiselin."

Finally, as Rozin's whispering in his mind faded slightly, Valerian answered in a shaking voice.

Valerian's vision cleared as if emerging from a haze.

The moment he saw Aiselin soaked and collapsed on the ground.

- SPLASH

In the steadily falling rain, he looked down at himself. His armor was drenched in blood.

Turning to survey the mansion revealed complete devastation, with countless injured servants strewn about from the destruction.

In one hand he held a sharp longsword, in the other the sanity-stealing necromancer's staff.

"..."

The atrocities committed in his madness remained vivid.

The architect of this carnage was none other than himself.

Valerian looked at Derek with trembling eyes. Meeting his gaze, Derek narrowed his brows.

The light of reason was returning to Valerian's eyes.

Seeing Aiselin trembling behind Derek, Valerian dropped his sword and collapsed to his knees.

- CLANG!

The massive skeletal giant that had shattered walls ceased moving.

Standing motionless in the rain, it resembled a colossal statue. Though battered by the downpour, the giant showed no further will to act.

"Hah... hah..."

Raindrops trailed down Valerian's hair before falling to the ground in steady drips.

He simply watched his hands trembling against the floor.

Diela's room was strewn with watercolor paintings.

Among them were portraits of Derek - masterpieces Diela had poured her heart into to gift her most respected teacher.

It felt like just yesterday he'd applauded her for confidently correcting imperfect brushstrokes.

Coming to his senses, he realized the ball was already ruined.

Not just that - the family itself was nearly annihilated.

By whose hand? His own.

Valerian raised his shaking head and spoke in a fading voice:

"Kill me."

His gaze pointed unmistakably toward where Aiselin lay.

Aiselin shuddered as she swallowed hard. Valerian meant every word.

"V-Valerian brother..."

"Before outside intervention comes... you must finish this."

Valerian already understood. He could no longer be allowed to live.

For House Duplein to maintain any dignity, they needed public justification that they themselves had removed their wayward heir.

There must be symbolic proof that Valerian's madness was his own doing, unrelated to the family's will.

Once the mages in the main hall regained consciousness or neighboring territories noticed the disturbance, the situation could spiral beyond control.

Thus, this matter had to be concluded internally.

That blade needed to be wielded by Aiselin.

- THUD!

Valerian removed his chestplate armor.

His slender frame for a man was drenched in rain and sweat, his noble attire clinging tightly.

Still kneeling, he threw his sword toward Aiselin.

The blade clattered across the ground before Derek stomped it to a halt.

"...No time, Aiselin."

"Brother... what are you..."

"...Before I lose myself again... you must end this."

Derek studied Aiselin silently before giving a slight nod.

Aiselin bit her lower lip, then picked up the sword with trembling delicate hands.

Pushing through the rain, she approached Valerian unsteadily. Soaked and weak, she stumbled several times.

Yet Valerian remained motionless as she approached.

"I'm sorry...it came to this..."

"Valerian brother..."

Aiselin raised the shaking sword, calling Valerian's name in a quivering voice.

But there was no turning back. If she didn't end Valerian while he retained some sanity, House Duplein would fall further into ruin. Valerian knew this too.

Tears streaming, Aiselin raised the sword higher.

- WHOOSH!

But Rozin's staff in Valerian's hand began emitting even stronger magic.

As if unwilling to let its host die, it poured forth greater power, whispering to Valerian - urging more strength, more corpses, more slaughter.

Valerian bit his lip, fighting to maintain clarity as he watched Aiselin.

Aiselin wept openly looking down at Valerian, then suddenly lowered the sword.

"Brother... there must be another way... not like this..."

"Lady Aiselin! Do not hesitate!"

At Derek's raised voice, Aiselin's arms began trembling violently.

For someone who'd lived like a pure lily her whole life, being forced to stab her own flesh and blood was unbearably cruel. Though he understood, hesitation now solved nothing.

Suddenly, even greater power erupted from Rozin's staff.

Valerian screamed in agony as the storm intensified violently around them.

- HOWL!

In the gale, Aiselin collapsed to her knees, staring at the fallen sword with trembling eyes.

The sudden burden seemed to crush her shoulders. Watching her, Derek realized it was hopeless.

Perhaps he should act instead, then claim Aiselin had delivered the final blow. There was no more time to waste.

Just as Derek reached for the sword—

"─Then I'll do it."

- THUD!

A girl pushed through the storm and picked up the sword.

The oversized weapon looked comically large in her tiny hands, but she clenched her teeth and approached Valerian.

- STAB!

What followed happened in an instant.

The girl's voluminous hair whipped wildly in the gale, like a lion's mane swirling.

Valerian could still vividly recall Diela chasing a ball rolling across the distant garden.

The sister he'd always seen as just an adorable youngest had gradually grown into a beautiful young lady.

She'd developed her own way of commanding servants, cultivated numerous talents, and distinguished herself in the arts.

Sitting alone in the garden with her canvas, pouting as she pondered brushstrokes - she was the picture of a lovely noble lady.

Feeling inexplicably proud, Valerian had looked down at Diela nestled against him.

Now the sword in her hand pierced his chest. Blood sprayed from Valerian's lips.

The dress prepared for tonight's ball was already stained crimson.

Having rushed here immediately after arriving by carriage, Diela assessed the situation and acted decisively.

Though her face was tearful, she bit her lip hard, suppressing her emotions. But her trembling hands betrayed her feelings.

'I see...'

Finally Valerian understood. This courage to step forward despite fear and uncertainty was Diela's greatest weapon.

Her resolute expression mirrored when she painted.

How much determination did it take to make each irreversible stroke across a blank canvas?

And when she made mistakes, her quick corrections demonstrated adaptability and experience - all gifts from heaven.

In this magnificent family, perhaps Valerian himself had been the mistaken stroke. This was a rather splendid correction.

Valerian smiled bitterly and patted Diela's head lightly.

Looking down at her startled face, he finally let out a hollow laugh and spoke:

"You've...grown taller..."

Diela's eyes widened in surprise.

Then Valerian's strength left him as he knelt and collapsed quietly onto the muddy ground.

- THUD

- CLANG! CLANG!

The staff fell from Valerian's hand and rolled away.

The steady rainfall also began gradually easing.

Drenched, Diela gazed up at the slowly dispersing storm clouds.

Faint sunlight filtered through the motionless skeletal giant's bones.

Kneeling in the mud, she looked down at the cooling corpse.

Stifling sobs that threatened to burst forth, she swallowed hard to suppress her emotions.

- SQUELCH

A mercenary approached from behind the collapsed girl.

"Lady Diela."

That quiet voice was the one Diela loved most.

"Long time no see, Derek. Not the best host to invite you only for this...but as you see, the ball's ruined. My apologies."

"It's alright."

Diela spoke with obvious difficulty, voice thick.

Derek brushed mud from his soaked clothes and stood quietly behind her.

Diela's shoulders shook violently as she spoke slowly:

"Derek. Sorry...but could I ask one favor?"

"Name it."

"Could you...hug me just once?"

"..."

Without hesitation, Derek knelt beside her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

Then the girl who'd lost her family wept bitterly in Derek's embrace.

She clutched his clothes tightly, burying her face deeper.

Both were thoroughly drenched and covered in blood and sweat, but neither complained.