Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 7

"Still, I can understand why you'd behave that way. Indeed, excessive talent often consumes its owner."

The Grand Duke of Duplein didn't speak at length. He merely tapped his quill against the desk while propping his chin on one arm.

He seemed to have some understanding of why Derek was hiding his abilities.

'At minimum, it's detection magic of 4-star rank or higher.'

Derek furrowed his brow. At any rate, he couldn't sense any particular hostility from the Grand Duke.

Every noble had their own way of dealing with commoners, so there didn't seem to be any reason to take proactive measures at this point.

Yet the wariness blooming in his heart was unavoidable. Derek still didn't know what kind of person the Grand Duke was.

"I apologize if I've been discourteous."

"No. It's enough that I've confirmed you're not some random fool. Though judging by your age and attire, you don't seem to be someone who normally teaches magic."

"I'm a mercenary."

"I see. So now we've reached the point where even mercenaries from the taverns are entering the Duplein Ducal Mansion."

The Grand Duke's sharp tone carried less emotion than expected.

Derek realized the Grand Duke was sizing him up.

This was a man who commanded countless retainers and had employed them endlessly in his service.

The ability to instantly gauge someone's caliber was paramount.

"Since Aiselin chose you, I won't say anything more. I'll grant you permission to enter the guest house where Diela resides. A maid will guide you."

"Thank you."

"You may go."

After waving Derek off with a flick of his hand, the Grand Duke turned his attention back to the documents piled high on his desk.

He was the master of this vast ducal territory. There were far too many matters requiring his thought and attention.

Yet Derek remained standing with his hands behind his back instead of leaving the office.

The Grand Duke reviewed a few more documents before finally looking up again.

"What are you doing? I told you to leave."

"Your Grace, there's something I must ask you."

"What?"

"Your Grace. I am a mercenary. We mercenaries pride ourselves on completing every commission we accept."

Derek lowered his gaze and spoke in a quiet, whisper-like tone.

"Lady Aiselin gave me a commission. To teach Lady Diela magic and help her stand proudly as a member of high society."

"Why are you stating the obvious?"

"Therefore, I must humbly ask Your Grace something."

The Grand Duke frowned as he looked at Derek.

It wasn't normal for some commoner brat to voice his opinions before a nation's Grand Duke.

If his words proved frivolous, that alone could be grounds for punishment. Such was the nature of social hierarchy.

Yet Derek's expression remained resolute.

After paying her respects to the Duke, Lady Aiselin entered a private reception room and served tea to Jayden.

Her personal handmaid carefully brewed premium tea and presented it to Jayden, though the delicate teacup didn't quite suit the rugged mercenary.

Jayden gave an awkward smile and took a sip from the cup with his calloused hands.

"This commission doesn't seem to require my direct involvement. I'll accompany Lady Aiselin back to Evelstain when she concludes her mansion affairs."

"Is that so? Having the leader of the Velderun Mercenary Group here in person was quite reassuring."

"Haha. There's no need for such courtesy toward our humble mercenary band. Lady Aiselin is truly generous."

Seated in a corner of the reception room, Lady Aiselin resembled a delicate flower.

Her flowing dress exuded elegance despite being casual wear, her beauty radiant enough to seem dazzling. Yet the worry etched across her face marred that graceful beauty.

"Valerian oppa looked quite displeased. If his feelings were hurt, I'll apologize."

"No. Bringing mercenaries into such a magnificent ducal mansion was never going to be welcome. I understand completely. Derek will have a harder time than me."

"I made the decision to bring him, but I'm worried whether Derek can handle Diela."

"I don't know Lady Diela well enough... I can't really say anything about that."

Lady Aiselin seemed visibly anxious now that she'd returned to the mansion.

She must have spent considerable time and money commissioning various mercenary bands to find a suitable mage, all while continuing her own high society studies.

Jayden studied Aiselin for a moment before offering a sympathetic smile.

"Why did you bring Derek?"

"...Was it too hasty a decision?"

"No, that's not what I meant. I've worked with him for a long time—he's remarkably composed and capable for his age."

Jayden relaxed slightly and continued, hoping to ease Lady Aiselin's concerns.

"I was just curious if you'd thought about it too."

"Well... Derek may be a mercenary, but he strangely seems familiar with noble manners and culture."

"That's probably his mentor's influence. I believe his teacher was once a prominent fallen noble."

"I see. Anyway, compared to most mercenaries, he lacks that rough, desperate edge... He also has a kind appearance... So I thought he might be able to persuade and guide Diela."

Indeed, by mercenary standards, Derek appeared quite reasonable and kind-hearted.

Moreover, his magical progress was rapid. Though his star rank remained low, the small age gap with Diela was important.

Mages of 4-star rank or higher who'd mastered 1- and 2-star magic decades ago often struggled to understand beginners'perspectives.

Thus, someone like Derek might be more effective in this regard.

Jayden chuckled after hearing Lady Aiselin's explanation.

"Hoho. Lady Aiselin, you truly are sincere and upright. Your straightforward gaze is what draws people to follow you."

"There's no need for such excessive praise."

"Not at all. But... May I, a mere commoner who's wandered battlefields, speak somewhat presumptuously?"

Jayden's easygoing smile faded into seriousness. Though he maintained his friendly expression, the atmosphere grew distinctly heavier.

Lady Aiselin knew Jayden was a battle-hardened veteran. His lighthearted demeanor concealed deeper thoughts.

"What do you think is the most important quality for a mercenary constantly navigating deadly battlefields?"

"...I'm not sure."

"Decisiveness... or courage. You can teach everything else, but not that."

Jayden absently brushed the flower-patterned teacup before setting it back down.

"Derek's a mage raised on the streets. He's been doing mercenary work since before he knew better. Do you think a street-born mercenary could survive on just refinement and kindness?"

"Huh?"

"Lady Aiselin, you need to learn to see through people better."

- Creak

As Derek closed the Grand Duke's office door, a maid waiting in the hallway approached.

Bowing her head, she addressed him respectfully.

"The head maid informed me. I'll guide you to the guest house where Lady Diela resides."

"Does Lady Diela live separately in the guest house?"

"Yes. She previously had a room in the main manor, but due to circumstances..."

The"circumstances"were obvious. Keeping a troublemaker who destroyed things on a whim in the main house would be difficult.

Derek quietly followed the bowing maid through the mansion's corridors.

The opulently decorated hallways were nearly blinding, with walls covered in clearly expensive paintings.

Every carpet and curtain was of the highest quality—this was genuine nobility.

The path to the guest house wound through green trees, with red rose vines decorating arched fences. Though beautiful, the design clearly intended distance from the main house.

"..."

Following the maid, Derek entered the guest house where Diela's room was located.

Past the large entrance, he saw servants assisting Lady Diela, their faces already weary.

"I'm Derek."

"We've been expecting you. This way."

After Derek's brief introduction, the guest house's head butler guided him toward a staircase along the hall.

Unlike the vibrant main house, the guest house interior felt oddly ashen. Sunlight barely penetrated, and the air felt thick.

Derek took a deep breath and ascended the stairs.

Soon, a large room presumably housing Lady Diela came into view. Maids stood bowing before the wooden door.

"Thank you for your hard work."

Passing the visibly exhausted servants, he finally reached the door.

After a moment's hesitation, Derek knocked, realizing further deliberation was pointless without knowing Diela's character.

- Knock, knock.

"Pardon me."

Receiving no answer, he slowly opened the door to survey the interior.

"..."

The room's atmosphere was heavy.

It was excessively large for a girl not yet an adult. The furnishings occupied less than 20% of the lavish space.

Delicate lace-adorned beds, clearly high-quality tea sets, an ornate dressing table and wardrobe caught his eye.

At the center stood a tea table with a white tablecloth, where a girl sat with her back to the door.

Her voluminous golden hair cascading over her petite frame was striking. Wearing a comfortable lace dress as casual wear, she seemed to be having tea.

"I'm Derek. Pardon the intrusion."

"Come closer."

Her tone was refined yet retained childishness.

As the Duplein family's youngest, her voice wasn't unusually young compared to Lady Aiselin.

The servants'expressions were clearly uneasy.

After glancing around, Derek trudged forward. He needed to speak with Lady Diela regardless.

The moment he calmly approached her—

- Splash!

It happened instantly.

When Derek blinked, his entire body was soaked.

Lady Diela had swiftly turned and flung water from a hidden rag directly at him.

A foul odor rose from Derek's body. He now resembled the weeping maid from earlier.

"Oh my."

The cat-like girl's elongated eyes radiated satisfaction.

Running slender fingers along her lips, she twisted her golden locks and laughed innocently.

"Oh my, oh my, oh my."

- Drip, drip. Drip.

Dark red droplets fell from Derek's white bangs.

Between the strands, Lady Diela's lips curled into a vicious smile.

"I wondered what gutter rat crawled in, but you're the mercenary the head butler mentioned?"

"..."

"Or maybe you really are a gutter rat. A beggar from the slums, right? How luxurious—visiting such a splendid mansion."

Lady Diela retrieved something else from under the table, stood on her chair, and poured it over Derek's head.

- Sploosh

This time it was kitchen waste water the maids had meant to discard, which she'd deliberately saved.

Derek now understood the servants'unease. They'd known she would do this.

Yet they couldn't warn him—doing so would redirect Diela's wrath toward them.

Middle management always suffers. Working in this guest house couldn't be easy.

Understanding their plight, Derek quietly endured the filthy water.

- Drip, drip, drip.

- Clang!

After emptying the bucket, Lady Diela carelessly tossed it aside.

"I prepared something to remind you of home since this luxurious place must feel unfamiliar. Now you look more like the slum trash you are. How do you like my surprise?"

"..."

"Don't look at me so insolently."

Still standing on the chair, Lady Diela kicked Derek's solar plexus, knocking him down.

- Thud!

The filthy floor was slippery, leaving Derek no choice but to fall.

"Ew... you stink."

She threw the slipper that had touched him onto the floor.

The slipper that hit Derek's shoulder rolled away.

Now barefoot on one side, Diela crossed her legs on the table, using the chair as a footrest while smirking arrogantly.

"Now even gutter rats from the slums are entering my guest house. Not even knowing your lowly status... You should've realized your place and left before seeing worse. What a disgrace."

Despite her petite frame, her sharp eyes radiated hostility like a predatory cat.

Wrinkling her nose at the rising stench, she continued:

"How dare a lowly beggar think to teach me."

"..."

"Know your place, street trash."

After silently observing her, Derek slowly rose.

-'Therefore, Your Grace, I must humbly ask you something.'

In his office, the Grand Duke stopped tapping his quill.

He stroked his chin several times before setting the quill down.

"..."

-'I'm not a conventional magic instructor but a street-born mercenary. Thus, I may handle things my way or follow established protocols like others have.'

-'However, seeing how Lady Diela has reached this point suggests previous approaches haven't worked. Sometimes extreme measures are necessary. That's why I must ask Your Grace, who loves Lady Diela dearly.'

The Grand Duke stood and gazed out the window, lost in thought.

A commoner with internal mana flow suggesting at least 2-star rank.

Politely yet firmly asking necessary questions before a Grand Duke demonstrated basic understanding of noble culture.

The boy had said mercenaries pride themselves on completing commissions.

True to his word, he sought to clearly determine what was needed to fulfill his commission—by any means necessary.

This strange sincerity made the Grand Duke ponder deeply.

-'Regarding Lady Diela's education, to what extent would Your Grace permit my authority?'

Extreme measures might be needed.

The seriousness in Derek's eyes differed starkly from refined noble mages.

Doing the same as before would yield the same results.

The boy's voice was steely.

"..."

Diela's arrogance was already infamous among the upper class.

As her father, had the Grand Duke truly made no mistakes?

As family head, household leader, and father—had he always made the right choices?

Valerian, Raeg, Aiselin, Diela.

Buried under paperwork while managing the duchy, had he loved his children equally?

Amid endless self-reflection... the Grand Duke silently gazed out the window.

- Smack!

- Crash!

Sometimes events happen so suddenly they defy comprehension.

The scene is so divorced from reality the mind struggles to process it.

This was such a moment.

The servants clustered by the door and hallway all gaped.

Shocked beyond breath, their fingertips trembled violently.

- Shatter!

A teacup falling from the table.

Before it—Lady Diela, slapped by Derek, tumbled from her chair.

"──."

Silence so profound time seemed frozen.

On the floor, Diela could only stare wide-eyed, unable to comprehend what happened. Her dilated pupils screamed shock.

What was the status of a noble lady?

Serve tea too hot and the maid would be whipped until her back split.

Trip while walking and the attending maid would be expelled.

A noble lady's body was sacred. Household servants were drilled endlessly on this.

Yet Diela's cheek swelled red.

- Tap, tap.

Derek brushed dirt from his tunic.

Diela tried to speak but only meaningless sounds emerged from her shocked throat.

"..."

He smelled foul.

Diela was right—Derek's home was the gutter.

High-born mages might find such humiliation unbearable, but to a street rat, it barely registered.

This too was life.

"Stand up."

Having adjusted his clothes, Derek looked down at the fallen girl.

Her white hair matted with filth.

Through the strands, his cold eyes held an eerie, sinister aura.