Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 79

A blizzard raged.

With each step Siern took across the snowfield, the surrounding snow scattered into the sky under the influence of magical energy.

The sight resembled a living, swirling vortex.

- Whoosh!

- Wheeeek!

Though her eyes brimmed with fury, Siern didn't raise her voice further.

Aiselin had been someone she'd known for mere weeks—just a passing acquaintance.

She was Siern's polar opposite in every way, making any special bond impossible.

Thus, this boiling rage over Aiselin's death was strange.

- Wheeeek

Yet seeing Aiselin motionless beneath the snow, Siern couldn't help biting her lower lip.

Even in their brief acquaintance, Siern had recognized her.

Aiselin was a person of complete character, worthy of being called the flower of House Duplein. She possessed enough compassion to try understanding Siern, whom everyone called a monster—a lovely girl who seemed blessed by all things.

Even Siern's frozen heart trembled when looking at her.

Because Siern couldn't control her bloodlust, she'd tried pushing Aiselin away... yet someone like her shouldn't have died so easily.

Human lives have value and hierarchy.

Siern should have died instead—it was too unfair for such a treasure of a person, who tried embracing even someone like her, to perish.

Thus, the girl raised her head to glare at the mercenary ahead.

Merely raising her fist, she effortlessly manifested 2nd-grade Summoning Magic"Call of the Wild."

- Whoosh!

Dozens of magical wolves materialized on the snowfield.

The spectral beasts bared their fangs and charged Derek. Though each was human-sized, Derek showed no panic as he leaped back and swung his staff.

- Grrr! Grr!

- Kaaang!

Steam rose between their vicious fangs.

Derek kicked an oncoming wolf's belly, rolled across the ground, drew his sword, and beheaded the creature.

- Slice!

The seamless, practiced motion was mesmerizing.

The decapitated wolf dissipated into magic energy without realizing its fate.

Yet dozens more remained.

As the pack circled Derek before attacking in unison, not a single wolf managed to scratch him.

- Whoosh! Crack!

Flames erupted, engulfing the magical wolves as they shrieked and burned away.

A few reached Derek, but his blade cleaved them apart instantly.

- Thud! Whoosh!

Rolling across the snow, Derek rose with a longsword in one hand and his hefty staff in the other.

Proficient in both magic and close combat, he could counter any attack Siern launched.

She knew this too.

Though her magical achievements were extraordinary for her age, they couldn't overpower Derek.

Knowing she couldn't win head-on, Siern sought only to distract him.

Amid the spectral wolves, the real beast struck.

- Clang!

Siern's nails embedded themselves in Derek's sword.

Her small, pale nails should have been blunt and soft. Yet they sparked violently against his blade.

- Crack! Craaack!

Derek recalled their first meeting—her hands stained vivid red with blood.

She used transformation magic to alter her body's hardness and density. Few her age worldwide could wield such advanced transformation spells.

Through the crossed blades, Siern saw the mercenary's calm expression.

His tranquility made her clench her teeth again.

"Do I look like a monster to you too?"

"..."

"But you're not exactly human either."

Gnashing her teeth, Siern channeled more magic.

Her nails gripped Derek's blade as magic seeped into the steel.

- Crunch, craaack!

The sharp blade shattered completely. As Derek frowned and leaped back, Siern's nails grazed where he'd stood.

- Whoosh!

A single swipe sent magical shockwaves scattering the accumulated snow.

Through the flurries, her pale eyes gleamed as she charged.

Though taking a girl's form, she was now a beast consumed by bloodlust.

'Transformation magic?'

Derek discarded his broken sword's hilt and adjusted his staff grip.

Matter-altering magic was notoriously difficult, requiring immense magical energy.

Shattering Derek's sword like a biscuit would normally exhaust even 2nd-grade mages.

Yet Siern showed no fatigue, her movements only growing fiercer with 3rd-grade"Acceleration"magic.

Now it was clear why renowned mages failed to control her.

What she needed wasn't knowledge, refinement, or grace—but overwhelming force to crush her.

- Bang!

When Derek blocked Siern's next strike with a magic barrier, she was already panting heavily.

She'd cast too many advanced spells in this short time—enough to make most mages faint.

Yet she glared at Derek with undiminished intensity.

Facing that palpable bloodlust would make anyone gulp.

But Derek smirked.

"Does Lady Aiselin's death anger you? Why?"

"..."

"Would Lady Aiselin have approved of you? Are you furious at losing such a treasure who tried embracing even you? What's the point?"

- Crack! Snap!

Derek's barrier showed no signs of breaking.

Lowering his gaze, he spoke coldly:

"You would've killed her anyway."

"──."

"So what difference does it make? You're strange, Lady Siern."

His icy eyes held genuine incomprehension.

"Isn't it better your hands stay clean? Or are you upset you didn't get to do it yourself? That I'd understand."

"..."

"I don't get the mind of a bloodlust-driven monster. But if killing someone precious brings you pleasure, I can't respect it—though I wouldn't say I don't understand. Is that it?"

"Hah. Hahaha.."

- Thud!

Siern leaped back to create distance.

Landing in the snow, she rose with blue hair whipping in the wind, her face shadowed.

Derek merely shook his staff indifferently.

"Right. That girl was too good for a monster like me. But... I can't agree with everything she said."

-'No one deserves to die, Lady Siern.'

Aiselin's last words in the freezing snowfield, spoken with determined eyes before Derek's blade struck.

Recalling this, Siern slowly revealed her murderous gaze.

Each word dripped with hatred:

"You deserve to die."

The last glimmer of humanity vanished from her pupils.

Abandoning human reason, she listened to the voice that once sought to dominate the world.

Someone whispered to Siern's suppressed instincts:

This human can die. This human should die.

As the impulse took over, the beautiful noble lady of House Rochester disappeared from the world.

- Whoosh!

In her place stood a beast consumed by slaughter.

A massive swirl of magical energy became visible through the window.

From his office, Lord Melberot watched motionlessly, chin resting on his hand.

This phenomenon occurred when Siern abandoned reason and revealed her monstrous nature.

In this state, she'd destroy everything, killing indiscriminately—a natural disaster moving on instinct.

Usually, Melberot would intervene to suppress her.

But Derek had insisted: Don't interfere. Just watch.

Perhaps it was arrogance.

Even battle-hardened veterans would sweat before Siern's feral bloodlust at full power.

This might just add another victim to her tally.

-'If you taught her death's weight, next is controlling instincts.'

-'Is controlling a monster's instincts possible?'

-'Not impossible. Humans don't live solely by instinct. If we create one success, then two, three, four will follow.'

-'...'

-'So what matters is after she loses reason. I'll restore Lady Siern's sanity. Will you trust me?'

Derek was an expert on monsters. Though aware, blind trust was impossible.

Yet Melberot had nothing to lose. If Derek died from overconfidence, that was his own fault.

Still, watching Derek gave a strange sense of certainty.

Melberot mused:

'If he's truly capable, I'd gladly support granting him a title or two.'

The question was whether he could prove that ability.

- Boom!

The bluish magic turned crimson and surged violently.

The frenzied beast in a dress charged Derek. Compared to her semi-rational state, her power and momentum had multiplied.

- Crack! Craaack!

- Thud!

Each swing of Siern's arms unleashed combat spells that would exhaust 1st-grade mages.

Derek blocked them all with staff swings, but had to physically dodge her frenzied charges.

- Whoosh! Boom! Whoosh! Boom!

Each strike felt like an explosion.

An ordinary person would die from a glancing blow. Yet Derek remained expressionless against the relentless assault.

This boy had slaughtered countless monsters.

Cornered, frenzied monsters lashing out were nothing new—he'd killed more than he could count.

Their brute strength was terrifying—a single mistake could cost a limb.

But mindless monsters were predictable. If you kept calm, they weren't hard to handle.

- Kwaaaang!

Yet reality differed.

When Siern's magic arrow missed and struck ground, it left a massive crater.

Her snowfield-traversing leaps were too fast to follow.

Her flowing hair resembled a great beast's tail.

- Clang!

As she charged again with magic-enhanced nails, Derek summoned a barrier.

Her trembling nails pressed against it. When Siern exhaled, her breath fogged the freezing air.

Her glowing eyes held no reason.

The tutors who fled calling her a monster had been right. This proved it.

What does it mean to teach someone?

Since becoming a magic instructor for nobles, Derek had pondered this constantly.

Whether with Diela, Elente, or Denis—he always approached teaching with this question.

Books could convey knowledge better. Being someone's mentor meant something more.

Aiselin had admired how Derek constantly sought better ways to guide people.

Having discovered him first as a mercenary, she understood his depth better than anyone.

Thus, she thought his deviation in trying to kill Siern was just a phase.

No life deserves death. Everyone should be guided toward betterment—not easily killed.

That was upright, kind Aiselin's worldview. She believed Derek would eventually understand.

She'd wait faithfully, believing in his straying path.

But perhaps that was arrogant.

As Derek's blade pierced her, Aiselin thought:

Perhaps embracing everyone is overestimating oneself.

Maybe Derek's nature—solving complexity with killing—was innate, beyond her influence.

Warm idealism can't solve everything. His blade reminded her of this.

Losing consciousness in the snowfield... Aiselin realized:

She didn't know Derek at all.

That ignorance and arrogance had killed her──

"...Ah-choo!"

As she accepted death, consciousness returned with a sneeze from the cold.

"...?"

Blood should have been spreading beneath the accumulating snow.

Yet awakening, Aiselin could sit up effortlessly. She felt no pain—just chilled extremities.

- Clang! Clang! Clang!

Distant combat sounds fully roused her.

"Huh...?"

Aiselin blinked, surveying her surroundings.

She remembered being stabbed. Yet her body bore no wound—just a large hole in her blouse.

Derek's blade had only pierced her loose clothing—easy given her flowing attire.

"......"

A large leather pouch lay nearby, punctured and leaking red dye.

The floral scent of western continent dye wafted up. She'd definitely felt magic when stabbed.

Confusion Magic"Bewilderment"had scattered her consciousness temporarily.

"Oh... my..."

The reason was obvious: to fake her death and provoke Siern.

Why?

To imprint death's weight on Siern strongly.

Only by repeatedly understanding death's gravity could groundwork be laid for controlling her instincts. Thus, Derek played the villain.

The image surfaced of him standing firm, blade dripping dye like blood.

Understanding this, Aiselin's hands trembled harder.

"Since... when...?"

Since when had he planned this? The answer was obvious: from the start.

Distrusting Aiselin's acting, Derek made her believe everything was real.

Unaware, she'd tried stopping him sincerely.

What is a teacher? What does teaching mean?

Sometimes pushing students off cliffs, enduring being seen as a demon.

The lesson's value is realized late. If the student notices the intent, it's meaningless.

Thus, Siern remained unaware.

Derek's rampage was always about correcting her. That fundamental truth never changed.

Aiselin's survival proved it conclusively.