Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 72

- Crunch, crunch.

The sound of Derek's boots stepping through the snow echoed softly.

Emerging from the blizzard, Derek appeared carrying Lady Siern slung over his shoulder like a hunter with his prey, causing the gathered servants to tremble in shock.

"My apologies for the disturbance."

"N-no... How did you...?"

Lady Siern's eyes rolled dizzily as she struggled to regain her senses.

Though no one witnessed their magical duel in the blinding snowstorm, Derek bore only a single trickle of blood from his temple - no other wounds whatsoever.

'Did he really subdue Lady Siern, nearly a 3-Star mage, so easily...?'

Head Butler Leighton stared at Derek in disbelief, but the mercenary showed no concern as he asked while still carrying Siern:

"The carriage seems completely wrecked. How far is it to Rocheste Mansion?"

"N-not too far to walk. Though the weather will make it difficult..."

"Then let's proceed."

With that, Derek trudged forward into the blizzard as if the extreme cold meant nothing to him.

- Tap, tap.

Rocheste Mansion stood like a spire rising from the snowstorm.

Though grand in scale, its majesty seemed faded by the harsh environment. Unlike Duplein Manor with its overwhelming gardens, everything here felt purely utilitarian - a practical necessity given the frequent monster attacks in this region.

"You've endured much since arriving in Rocheste territory. As head butler, I'm deeply ashamed."

"No need. I knew what kind of person Lady Siern was."

Local custom apparently dictated welcoming distant guests by the bonfire first. As Derek warmed himself before the massive fireplace, he waved off the servants'formal greetings.

"Where is Lady Siern now?"

"We've placed her in a private room in the spire while she remains unconscious."

"I should check on her. We'll be seeing each other frequently from now on."

The head butler swallowed dryly at Derek's calm demeanor. Maintaining such composure after being attacked by Lady Siern was extraordinary - most mages would have been defeated instantly. Her reputation for ambushing complacent high-ranking mages was well-earned.

"You're... far more formidable than I imagined. I'm not sure I can fulfill my role properly..."

Aiselin's timid voice came from behind Derek as she warmed herself by the fire.

Now that they'd reached the north, the stark contrast with prosperous Duplein territory became painfully clear. Though she'd cheerfully accepted the job for quick money, facing the life-threatening reality of Lady Siern had shaken her confidence.

"She won't even listen to reason, let alone obey. I might just get seriously hurt trying. You're highly skilled in combat magic, Derek, but I'm... not."

"...Are you frightened?"

"...Yes."

Aiselin answered honestly, her expression lacking confidence. Yet she wasn't one to wallow in weakness.

"But I'll do it anyway. I'll find my own way to handle it."

Clenching her fists tightly, she declared:

"If I've decided to do this, I must. Complaining won't change anything."

"Well said. Though honestly, you needn't worry so much."

"Huh?"

"Why do you think I specifically requested your company despite anticipating difficulties?"

"...Because I'd agree immediately for the money...?"

"...That wasn't entirely absent from consideration."

Derek sat beside Aiselin by the fire.

"Someone like you is precisely what's needed."

"Someone like me...?"

"Specifically, someone visibly graceful, refined, and beautiful."

"Gasp!"

Aiselin inhaled sharply at the sudden compliments, eventually looking down with flushed cheeks.

"Wh-what's with the sudden flattery...? It's not like I'll..."

"Just stating facts. Unlike my rough commoner appearance, you clearly embody noble grace and refinement. This contrast is crucial."

Though Derek's deadpan delivery made Aiselin blush, she knew he wasn't just buttering her up.

"I mentioned having a plan. I'd gathered information about Lady Siern and anticipated needing help with certain aspects."

"You mean... noble etiquette, social graces, ballroom knowledge...?"

"No. Those are secondary."

"Eh...? Then what's important...?"

Such knowledge could be taught later if they successfully recruited Siern. The real challenge was bending her to their will.

"We need both carrot and stick. I'll handle the stick - you provide the carrot."

"Wh-what does that mean...?"

"Hmm... I have a strategy in mind. Actually received advice from an old friend in the slums - surprisingly credible, so I'm adopting it."

Though Derek knew many in the slums, few qualified as"old friends."Aiselin found herself oddly curious about this particular companion.

'Why am I even wondering about this...? I'm being too nosy...'

Shaking her head, she focused as Derek continued:

"It's called... the'Beaten Wife'strategy..."

"..."

"...Does that sound odd?"

"Your friend's family circumstances... must have been difficult..."

Derek recalled the young archer who once roamed the slums caring for her elderly mother. Now orphaned, her life had been as harsh as his own.

"No one from the slums lacks hardship. But let's not dwell on sadness. Essentially, you'll play the beaten wife's role."

Before Aiselin could ask what that meant:

"Which makes me the pathetic husband."

"H-husband?! Wh-what are you—someone might misunderstand!"

"It's just an analogy. I'll explain the full plan."

Derek glanced outside at the raging blizzard.

Behind Aiselin's fidgeting figure, the storm intensified. Staying long in this wasteland served no purpose - they needed to collect what they could from Lord Melberot and leave quickly.

To do so, they must first reform Lady Siern's attitude.

As the daughter of the continent's greatest mage, succeeding with her would cement Derek's reputation as a tutor who could handle any noble lady.

Beyond personal glory, Derek also coveted certain magic artifacts from Lord Melberot. There was no time to waste.

"Lady Aiselin. Are you skilled at acting?"

"Huh?"

As Derek elaborated, Aiselin's expression gradually froze.

"D-Derek, are you really okay with this?"

-'G-gah! Monster!'

-'Lord Melberot! However you justify this, you can't keep such a thing in your mansion! This isn't something to teach! I'll report this to the royal court...!'

-'P-please spare me! Just my life... take my limbs if you must... just let me live...'

-'What... are you...?'

- Whoosh!

As fragmented memories swirled in her dream, Siern's eyes snapped open.

The warm air carried the scent of freshly laundered linens. Occasionally, the blizzard rattled the windowpanes.

Sitting up abruptly, Siern recalled her last memory - exchanging spells with that man Derek.

He'd anticipated her every move like a seer, countering without giving her a chance before subduing her with 3-Star magic.

When their eyes met mid-fall, she'd instinctively gulped.

He differed completely from the scholarly magic tutors who'd visited this northern land. This was a man who'd truly slaughtered monsters on battlefields.

Though lacking details, his killing intent alone revealed that much.

'Better avoid confrontation. Ambush him when no one's looking or attack while he sleeps to drive him out.'

As Siern turned her gaze from the bed—

"Gasp!"

"Awake now?"

The white-haired man she'd just been thinking about sat reading at a table in the corner, legs crossed with utter composure - a stark contrast to the bloodied hunter in the snowstorm.

Siern kicked off the blankets and leapt to the opposite corner, adopting a defensive stance.

"Y-you... why are you..."

"You already know why. You'll be learning magic from me."

"Why should I learn from you? You'll just spout nonsense before quitting and running away."

"That's my decision to make. Starting tomorrow, I'll set the lesson schedule."

"Go to hell."

Siern telekinetically hurled the table. Derek calmly closed his book and rolled aside.

- Crash! Bang!

- Thud! Boom!

Though more furniture flew his way, none touched him as he dodged effortlessly before suddenly grabbing Siern's forearm.

- Snatch!

"Eek!"

Meeting his intimidating gaze, Siern began trembling uncontrollably.

Derek remained unfazed by her defiance - clearly experienced in handling rebellious students. This realization only fueled her resentment.

"Why should I listen to you? Save your effort and return southwest. You don't belong in the north."

"Seems you need more discipline."

Such words from a commoner to nobility should be unthinkable. Yet Derek's established reputation as a magic instructor allowed this audacity.

His infamous first encounter with the notorious Diela - slapping her immediately - was now common knowledge among nobles.

Few tutors could match Derek's unyielding demeanor before noble ladies. While such behavior would condemn a nobody for treason, his proven record changed everything.

Of course, his skill backed his confidence.

Even the prodigious Siern couldn't easily escape his grasp.

- Boom!

Yet she still tried, casting 2-Star Combat Magic"Rapid Detonation"to set the room ablaze.

- Kaboom!

Though Derek shielded himself with mana, Siern wrenched free and burst through the door - a clear rejection of his tutelage.

- Whoosh!

But Derek pursued instantly, his movements faster than when hunting monsters.

His murderous gaze suggested he'd come specifically to beat Siern into submission.

"Ugh...!"

Siern channeled mana and sprinted for the mansion walls, hoping to lose him in the vast snowfields.

Yet Derek seized her collar just as she cleared the wall.

- Grab!

Tumbling through the snow in her dress, Siern shook ice from her hair and glared.

"Oww..."

"You'll endure worse. Since words fail, pain must teach."

"You... think you can get away with this?"

"I'll handle the consequences."

Derek drew the staff from his back, making Siern gulp.

A 4-Star staff named"Footsteps"- four ancient wood strands twisted together culminating in a large gem.

'He can wield a staff...?'

Staff mastery required both high magic proficiency and extensive experience. This alone placed Derek far beyond ordinary mages.

"Do you know this staff's name? Being northern-made, you might recognize it."

"Idenbrew's'Wanderer'... or'Footsteps'...?"

"No. I renamed it."

While renaming magic weapons wasn't uncommon, most respected the original names. Derek clearly didn't care.

"...'Rod of Love'..."

"You're... completely insane..."

- Swish! Swish!

Derek swung the staff like a club, barely resembling a mage.

- Swish! Swish!

The whooshing sounds promised painful welts. Siern gulped again before attempting escape, but Derek easily tripped her.

- Thud! Crunch!

Rolling through deep snow, Siern pushed up angrily before freezing at the sight behind her.

The hideous man approached steadily, wielding his Rod of Love with terrifying devotion - the very model of a dedicated instructor.

"I don't enjoy this. It's for your own good. Do I look happy beating people? My heart aches and breaks! I'm suffering too! But! Teaching is my calling! Even with my heart shattered, I must do this for you!"

"L-liar...! Your heart's fine...! Stay back...!"

"How many strikes will you accept? Decide based on your remorse. I'll give you that choice."

Derek's eyes gleamed maniacally as steam rose from his breath, resembling an uncontrollable monster.

Siern scrambled backward through the snow, but escape was impossible against Derek's detection magic and acceleration spells.

As she trembled desperately, salvation arrived.

"Derek! Stop this!"

- Whoosh!

Aiselin burst through the snow, arms spread protectively before Siern.

Her noble bearing remained impeccable even in the blizzard, radiating sublime dignity like a storybook heroine - precisely the strong female lead from Lady Denise's novels that Derek admired.

With dramatic resolve, Aiselin proclaimed:

"Violence is! Bad! Yes! Very bad! Violence is!!!"

Unfortunately, heaven hadn't blessed her with Lady Denise's eloquence.

"..."

While Derek respected Aiselin, he couldn't honestly praise her acting skills.