Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 64

The patriarch of the Duplein family, Grand Duke Raymond Oswald Duplein, had died.

The eldest son Valerian had gone berserk due to a necromantic weapon brought from the White Wilderness north of Duplein territory, destroying the mansion and sacrificing numerous servants before ultimately killing his own father.

It became known that he had attempted to become a higher-level necromancer by sacrificing the gathered noble guests and senior mages in the mansion, only to lose his life to Diela's sudden attack.

The Duchess Miriela had fainted on the spot, while the second son Raeg remained unconscious, unable to regain his senses after being caught in the magical aftermath.

Other senior retainers and direct family members were all injured to varying degrees, with over half the household still unconscious.

"Ugh... grunt..."

"Wh-what in the world... Where is this..."

By the time the sun rose over the ruins of Duplein Manor, the noble guests who had nearly become sacrificial victims in the main hall were gradually coming to.

When they opened their eyes, a horrific scene greeted them. Each struggled to comprehend their current situation, eyes wide with disbelief.

Yet despite everything, not a single noble guest or high-ranking mage attending the ball had died.

This was partly because they'd been gathered in the main hall as offerings for necromantic rituals, but also because the instigator had been properly subdued before the situation reached its extreme.

Dawn sunlight filtered through the half-collapsed ceiling.

Amid the chaotic atmosphere, the only person who could represent the Duplein family's position stepped forward to address the gathered nobles.

"First, I must offer my sincerest apologies to everyone present. I'm terribly sorry you had to experience this after traveling so far."

Aiselin and Diela had maintained their composure while everyone else fell into the chaos of necromantic magic, ultimately preventing a complete catastrophe.

Yet Aiselin with her bowed head and Diela standing quietly behind her couldn't muster heroic expressions.

"We will take full responsibility for today's events and provide whatever compensation is necessary through every means available to our family."

Aiselin, who now had to shoulder responsibility for the Duplein family, spoke with resolute determination.

The expressions of the noble guests hearing this explanation varied greatly.

Some were furious at having nearly lost their lives while unconscious, while others fell into deep contemplation about how to conduct themselves before this once-in-a-lifetime tragedy of the Duplein family.

"Wh-what is this...! We were nearly sacrificed for necromancy? In the heart of the Duplein manor, the most prestigious of all?"

"W-we must raise this issue when we return! I-I'm horrified...! We could have died!"

When a great beast dies, vultures inevitably gather to feast upon its carcass.

And they had the perfect justification - they had genuinely been moments from death.

The Duplein family bore full responsibility for this. With their patriarch gone and such a perfect grievance handed to so many nobles, they might as well have offered up their flesh to be devoured.

Yet the Duplein family had no choice.

As Aiselin and Diela stood quietly listening to the increasingly loud complaints of the nobles—

"Still, the Duplein family took active measures to contain the situation without casualties. Only minor injuries were sustained, and no lives were lost."

"Lady Elente?"

"The Belmiere family won't press for accountability. It seems the Dupleins have already sacrificed enough."

This came from Lady Elente standing before the main hall.

Her red hair hung damp with rainwater as she concealed scratches on her forearm. Though she'd used magic to prevent serious injury when the building collapsed, minor scrapes were unavoidable.

Most gathered nobles were attending as proxies. Elente too had come to the ball as proxy for Count Belmiere of the border region.

As proxies, they lacked direct authority to decide how to pursue accountability.

But Elente was different.

Count Belmiere had granted her some authority to make decisions on behalf of the Belmiere Count family.

While major matters still required the Count's direct approval, in this case she made a bold judgment.

The Belmiere family would demand no accountability from the Dupleins.

This wouldn't stop other nobles from picking at the Duplein mansion's carcass, but it would at least influence the general sentiment.

"Wh-why would you...?"

"No particular reason. As I said... the Duplein family has sacrificed enough. They lost their patriarch, half their standing army, nearly all their servants, and their mansion."

Elente studied Aiselin before adding with a complicated smile:

"Call it my own inferiority complex. Don't worry too much - I'll persuade my father."

With that, Lady Elente gathered her ruined dress and headed toward the stables.

The groom brought from home had either fled or fallen to the magical beasts. She'd need to handle the horses herself to return.

"I'll just... borrow a horse."

As she dragged her dress away, Elente suddenly noticed a man leaning against a half-destroyed pillar, arms crossed as he observed the situation.

While everyone present was drenched, the white-haired youth looked particularly worse for wear.

Soaked with sweat and blood along with the rain, covered in mud, his hair disheveled - he'd been on the frontlines containing Valerian's rampage until the end.

"Derek. Your deeds deserve royal commendation, but this hardly seems the time for celebration. Let's postpone that. I'll ensure you receive proper compensation."

"..."

"And as Belmiere's eldest daughter, I should thank you. Had you not intervened in the main hall to stop Valerian, every noble here would be a necromantic sacrifice."

At this, all gathered nobles stared wide-eyed at Derek.

They'd heard Aiselin and Diela actively stopped Valerian, but found parts hard to believe.

How could two barely 2-Star mages restrain Valerian wielding near 4-Star power? Impossible without outside help.

They'd suspected intervention, but never imagined it came from a common-born mage.

'Derek? That white-haired mage saved us?'

'He doesn't look very old - you're saying he fought evenly with near 4-Star power?'

'At minimum 3-Star... but a commoner that young reaching 3-Star?'

Many southwestern nobles already knew of Derek.

He'd gained renown in Evelstain's high society as a talented magic instructor. Noble houses seeking to hire him as tutor already outnumbered available fingers.

Stopping Valerian was a national-level achievement.

The closed aristocratic society wouldn't easily grant titles, but substantial financial rewards and social prestige were certain.

Derek's already sky-high value would become immeasurable.

One way or another, he would influence noble society.

"Ah, so you're the renowned magic instructor from the southwest. Impressive skills indeed. I'm Rovenkheim from the north. Visit Melberot's estate if you're ever there."

"An honor to meet the uncle of Lord Melberot, the northern guardian. Thank you for your kindness."

"If you visit the south, seek Delos's castle. I'm his wife Adelen. My husband will surely reward you handsomely when he hears of this."

"I appreciate the generosity, but it's unnecessary, Countess Adelen. I'm relieved you seem unharmed."

"Imperial Chancellor Poloncourt here. We owe you our lives. Seeing you work as a magic instructor..."

Soon, quick-thinking nobles began approaching Derek to greet him.

Their rapid shift in attitude was remarkable compared to when the ball began, when none would spare him a glance.

Nobles always cultivated connections that might prove beneficial. That was their way.

Watching from a distance, Lady Denise couldn't help a bitter laugh. While the Beltus family currently held Derek under contract, who knew if they could retain him after this?

'How brazen they are - the same people who'd have glared suspiciously at someone merely competent.'

Though no stranger to noble circles, their opportunism never ceased to amaze.

This would only increase Derek's value, a headache for those wanting to keep him.

As Denise brushed off her dress, she studied Elente's retreating figure. The girl had deliberately amplified Derek's achievements.

Now as nobles swarmed him, she simply smiled and departed.

Denise couldn't similarly declare the Dupleins blameless.

Elente held real authority in Belmiere. Denise was Beltus's puppet.

Though both ladies of Rosea Salon, their standing differed immensely.

Elente's ability to assert her judgment even in crisis made Denise strangely envious.

'...Did I just envy authority? Me?'

Denise shook her head at her own unexpected thought.

Uncharacteristic for her usual indifferent self.

'Have I been overthinking since taking in Derek? Should stop these pointless thoughts.'

As Denise rose to leave, straightening her rain-soaked platinum hair while nobles clamored to shake Derek's hand, she felt oddly pleased by his recognition yet concerned about his rising value.

"Derek. No point staying here. Let's return to the estate. We should report—"

"Oh, Lady Denise, you're safe! Things were so chaotic when we met in the cloakroom earlier."

"...Lady Freya, you're unharmed?"

As Denise prepared to leave with Derek, Lady Freya stopped to converse with him.

While planning her own return, she seemed eager to reconnect with her fellow student under Katia.

"So strange finally meeting someone Teacher Katia always talked about. You're quite different than I imagined."

"I'm relieved you're unharmed, Lady Freya. Teacher Katia wrote much about you. Impressive how composed you remained."

"I'm just... hungry now that the tension's gone. Ugh..."

Adjusting her disheveled bluish hair and slipping her shoulder back into her dress, Freya appeared older than the Rosea Salon ladies, having debuted long ago.

Rumored as one of eastern society's most influential figures, she seemed surprisingly unpretentious in person.

Derek conversed warmly with his fellow student, his usual stoic expression showing rare animation.

Watching this, Denise felt inexplicably irritated.

'He's never shown that brightness with me...'

Though in truth, his cheer would be stranger given her usual indifference.

"We should continue this another time. Given the circumstances... If I'm ever in the eastern continent, I'll visit the Elvester estate."

"Hmm... Father dislikes commoners visiting... but he wouldn't refuse his daughter's savior... Especially with Teacher Katia there..."

"I won't impose if it's difficult."

"No, it should be fine."

As their pleasant conversation continued, Denise sighed and interjected:

"Or Lady Freya could visit Beltus instead?"

"Oh? I've wanted to engage more with Rosea Salon and Drest Academy circles."

"The Salon will be chaotic for a while... but social visits should be fine."

"Wonderful. There were matters I wished to discuss."

"Matters?"

Freya lowered her voice after glancing around:

"You saw Valerian wielding forbidden magic?"

"Yes."

"His technique was too precise... the control too natural... Something feels suspicious."

"Oh?"

"Hardly the place to discuss with the Dupleins grieving, but I doubt Valerian acted alone. Someone must have..."

She trailed off, unwilling to criticize the deceased before his family.

"I'll explain later."

Brushing off her dress, Freya straightened with hands on hips:

"Enough serious talk when we're all exhausted. The Dupleins must handle their affairs while we return home. The families will sort out details."

With a bright farewell, she added:

"Until next time, Derek. Hmm... Should I call you senior? Master?"

"..."

"Joking."

Stretching her stiff body, Freya departed for the eastern continent to report home.

Denise and Derek assessed each other's condition before preparing to return to Evelstain.

"Taking a carriage seems difficult. I'll handle the horse - ride behind me."

"Ugh... Derek, the mud feels awful."

"Can't be helped. Endure it."

Glancing back at the ruined mansion, Denise contemplated the Duplein sisters now shouldering their family's fallen glory.

Noble daughters must walk thorny paths with smiles, bearing both privilege and disgrace.

"Even in ruins, something remains."

Perhaps flowers might yet bloom amidst the wreckage.

As they rode toward Evelstain, Denise silently wished them well.

"Good day, Lady Denise."

Yet she saw Diela again just three days later.

The composed girl sipping tea in the parlor unnerved Denise.

Despite her family's collapse, Diela exuded intimidating dignity, her poise more refined than ever in an elegant dress.

"D-Diela? What brings you here so early—"

Though Denise had become more morning-oriented because of Derek, receiving noble guests at dawn was challenging.

Diela sat with the sharp-eyed intensity of a lioness, making Denise gulp.

'I cheered for them but didn't expect this visit.'

"You must wonder how I'm here when the mansion needs restoration."

'Too sharp!'

Denise cleared her throat and assumed her noble mask.

"First, my condolences for your—"

"Let's skip formalities."

Their relationship had soured since competing over Derek.

Suddenly Diela stood, sweating nervously before blurting out:

"C-could you... lend me some money...?"

"......"

Silence.

"...."

The unexpected request left Denise dumbfounded.

"Excuse me?"

Derek asked in disbelief.

In his humble residence - a shabby place his teacher Katia left him in Evelstain's market district - Aiselin stood at his door at dawn with a young maid.

After awkwardly serving water (the only refreshment available), Derek listened as the crimson-faced noble girl made an unbelievable request:

"...Times are hard?"

Though Derek had savings, he never imagined Aiselin Eleanor Duplein would come begging to him.

"N-not exactly... Between mansion repairs and emergency supplies... hiring grooms for guests'returns... Not a huge shortage but... temporarily stuck..."

"..."

"I borrowed from the Korne family and used personal savings...! But forgot some construction payments were due...! Given the circumstances..."

"..."

"We're selling antiques and magic tools but need operating funds until then... The loan from Roent Merchant Guild falls short... I shouldn't ramble but..."

"..."

- Grrroowl

A stomach growled loudly.

Derek startled before realizing it wasn't his own - he'd eaten mashed potatoes and bread for breakfast.

Aiselin turned crimson, looking ready to die of shame.

"...Have you eaten?"

"P-please don't ask..."

"..."

"Servants'food allowance was due today... Can't let them starve... So I..."

"..."

Derek rubbed his face wearily.

First things first - she needed a meal.