Noble Lady Reformation Guide

“Tell Resi, the daughter of my homeland, that I love her…”

“That mead from my home, Kschet… I wish I could drink it again…”

“It wasn’t so bad. In my next life, I’d like to live like this again.”

“Damn demonic witch of necromantic magic…! Even in death I will curse you…!”

“Please, save me! I don’t want to die here…!”

Step, step.

How long had it been since she had fought such a bloody battle?

Fina, clutching her completely ruined right shoulder, dragged one leg as she struggled forward toward the main building of the Count Elvester’s Mansion.

The elegant stained-glass windows were shattered in half, and the grand main hall, now in utter chaos, was covered in bloodstains.

As she crossed that place with unsteady steps, the deaths of countless people she had witnessed over the centuries passed through her mind one after another.

She had lived killing innumerable people, and with hands always stained in blood, she had heard far too many final words.

Fina dropped heavily into a massive solid-wood chair placed at the center of the main hall.

Then she let out a faint chuckle.

That figure was, without a doubt, that of a queen who had returned to the audience chamber.

Blood ran from the corner of her lips, but in time it would heal on its own.

Even so, she sensed that those wounds would take quite a while to disappear and would trouble her for a long time.

Facing the lord of House Rochester had been so exhausting that even her life had flashed before her eyes.

She had seen many people die until now.

All of them left behind hollow last words and simply fell dead.

From Fina’s perspective, it had always seemed terribly fleeting.

Final words…?

Had she prepared something like that when she lived as Lublien?

It was such a distant past that she could no longer recall it clearly, and even if she could, for Fina, already accustomed to a life without rest, it held no meaning.

That day, leaning against a wall in a snowy alley, staring expressionlessly at the sky, when she had decided to end her life.

What words had she intended to leave behind before dying?

No matter how she searched her memory, nothing came to mind.

Thus, Fina slowly closed her eyes to recover her strength and steadied her breathing for a moment.

The moonlight filtering through the shattered stained glass covered her body, making her appear as though she had fallen into a deep sleep.

***

“Lord Melverot has been wounded.”

On the plain leading to the Count Elvester’s Mansion, an improvised camp had been set up from which, in the distance, the mansion covered in corpses and wandering spirits could be seen.

Not many soldiers had gathered there yet; only those who had come immediately upon receiving the news.

Reinforcements from the imperial capital and allied forces from the southwest of the continent would not take long to arrive.

“Lord Melverot…?”

“Yes. I am Raviel, of House Rochester. I have served as chief secretary and administrator.”

Although his rank was primarily administrative, he wore impeccable armor.

Members of the Rochester territory were usually like that—even those dedicated to desk work knew how to handle a sword and magic as a basic skill.

Raviel himself was covered in blood.

Everything indicated that he had been the one to escort Melverot out of the battlefield during the retreat.

“…”

Dereck silently observed the outer wall of the Count Elvester’s Mansion, visible in the distance across the plain.

When the sun shone warmly, it was said that the territory of Elvester looked like a paradise on earth, and especially the surroundings of the mansion were considered a land blessed by the heavens.

The pleasant singing of birds, butterflies fluttering along the path, and a constant fragrance of flowers.

Now, that peaceful and beautiful place was covered in craters, as if a rain of meteors had fallen.

Mountains of corpses were piled everywhere, and a section of the mansion’s outer wall had collapsed as if struck by a gigantic projectile.

The sky, covered in black clouds, concealed the stars, and an ominous atmosphere enveloped the surroundings.

The traces of combat between six-star mages—more than a battle, it looked like the aftermath of a war.

The camp, still incomplete, did not even have enough stretchers for the wounded.

Melverot, lord of the Rochester territory, was reclining against a wall under a hastily erected tent, embracing his sword.

The hemorrhaging was so severe that five or six attendants remained around him, constantly pressing on his wounds.

“Lord Melverot was the first to arrive at the site and immediately engaged in action to contain that brutal necromantic mage. If we had let her act freely, the damage would have grown uncontrollably, so he decided to advance without waiting for reinforcements.”

Having just arrived, Dereck dismounted his horse and assessed the situation.

Raviel clenched his teeth with restrained fury; he had never imagined that Melverot, considered the strongest mage of this era, could end up in such a miserable state.

“I will go check on Lord Melverot’s condition. See to it that you review the situation of the camp in more detail.”

Kalimford, sweating coldly, returned to the tent where Melverot was, while Dereck walked alongside Raviel among the soldiers who were still working on building the camp.

“Can you inform me precisely what happened?”

“Yes. As soon as he arrived, Lord Melverot deemed it essential to contain that repulsive necromantic mage to prevent her from further increasing her forces. We could not allow the casualties to keep growing. Therefore, he immediately led the elite of the Rochester territory and launched an attack. But…”

A six-star combat mage is, in almost any battle, an asymmetric force that guarantees victory.

Summoning meteorites, freezing entire regions, reducing mountains to ashes—a monster of that caliber leading the offensive.

However, the enemy was also a monster worthy of being recorded in the annals of history.

“…Our elite forces of the Rochester territory could not even approach the wall. All were unhorsed and died instantly. In practice, Lord Melverot faced that necromantic mage alone.”

“Were you there?”

“I was at some distance, reporting the situation to the camp. But when I saw the suppression force annihilated in an instant, I spurred my horse and immediately ran toward where Lord Melverot was.”

Even after witnessing the elite slaughtered in a single blow, he had advanced to the front.

That secretary named Raviel seemed to have absolute loyalty toward Melverot.

Dereck hardened his expression and walked with long strides, weaving through the soldiers who hurriedly moved about constructing the camp.

“After that, I can no longer explain everything with words alone. A colossal army of corpses, swarms of wandering souls covering the sky. A dragon made of bones spewed freezing breath, and an Archlich I had only seen in books commanded the battlefield. It was as if he were facing an entire legion by himself…”

“…”

It was not difficult for Dereck to imagine it.

A duel between six-star mages.

The sky collapsing, the earth rising—that battlefield would have been, quite literally, a cataclysm.

Dereck knew well the level of magic possessed by both Fina and Melverot.

If Melverot had suffered such grave injuries, Fina could not have come out unscathed either.

The reason the secretary had managed to retreat with Melverot was precisely because Fina, too, was exhausted.

‘He created an opening.’

If left unchecked, Fina’s necromantic magic would continue expanding until it devoured the entire region.

Before that could happen, Melverot had arrived first to break her momentum.

If he could buy some time, other high-ranking mages would arrive one after another.

From Melverot’s perspective, it was a gamble worth taking.

In fact, more than half of the forces Fina commanded had been destroyed; one side of the count’s mansion’s solid outer wall had collapsed, and the creatures Fina had painstakingly created did not appear to be in good condition.

The Archlich “Happy” was impaled through the chest and pinned against the outer wall, and the bone dragon had one wing torn apart.

All of that had been Melverot’s direct doing.

Flap.

Just as Dereck finished assessing the situation, the cloth covering the entrance of the provisional tent was violently pushed aside.

From inside, Melverot, covered in blood and wounds, staggered out.

“My lord! You must not move yet!”

“My lord! Your injuries are severe! Please, rest first!”

“Silence!”

Clenching his teeth, Melverot stepped out of the camp, dragging his body from which blood flowed without cease.

Then he looked toward Dereck, who was observing the situation, wiped the blood from his lips with the back of his hand, and spoke.

“You arrived early. I have shown you a disgraceful sight.”

“Are you all right?”

“If I am honest… not much.”

The bandages, soaked in a deep red, were impossible to ignore.

When Dereck frowned, Melverot shook his head irritably.

He groaned in pain and, with an awkward movement, dropped down beside the wooden chair where Dereck was seated.

“I managed to pierce her shoulder, but in exchange I took a blow to the thigh. Unfortunately, walking normally will be difficult.”

“Your wounds are very serious. Would it not be better to rest first?”

“In this state I cannot do much, but even so, I must speak with you.”

Raviel approached with a worried expression to check on him, but Melverot brushed him aside with a wave of his hand.

He wiped the blood running from his mouth several times, let out muffled groans, and when the pain subsided slightly, he shook his silver hair before continuing.

“Huff… huff… In less than half a day, the forces gathered by Princess Roselin will arrive here. Kohella will likely come with them. You must enter with the suppression force at that moment.”

“The allied army led by Countess Rodelia is also on its way.”

“It is too late. We must subdue that necromantic mage before she regains her strength. I will soon… I believe I will lose consciousness, so I will leave you only what is essential…”

Gripping the scabbard of his sword tightly and enduring the pain, Melverot opened his eyes wide.

He had been the first to arrive at the site, deliver a critical blow to Fina, assess the situation inside the mansion, and secure a route of entry.

The information coming from his mouth was more valuable than anything else.

“The necromantic magic that monster uses is indiscriminate and extremely powerful. Especially once it reaches the six-star level, merely locking eyes is enough to kill the opponent instantly. If you are not at the same level, it is impossible to resist.”

“…”

“But… it is not without a way to counter it. It is lethal magic that stains the entire area with death, yet she cannot control it precisely at close range. Do you understand what I mean? If you are mixed among numerous troops, Fina will not use that instant death magic.”

An ultimate spell that turns an entire region into a field of death.

Even Rochester’s elite soldiers were annihilated in a single strike.

An absolute manifestation of the irrational, capable of instilling terror in anyone.

However, if Dereck was among those troops—

Fina would never use instant death magic.

Because she would never attempt to kill Dereck.

“We need you there… to lead the troops and enter the count’s mansion. This suppression depends on you.”

With a blood-soaked hand, Melverot pressed firmly on Dereck’s shoulder.

“That monster stains everything with death, but you… she will never try to kill you.”

“…”

“Listen carefully… The margrave of Elvester is already a corpse serving that monster. All the elite forces of the mansion are under her command, and the same goes for the dragon that covers the sky and the Archlich. I left them half-destroyed, but they are still alive.”

Thanks to Melverot’s swift intervention, that enormous legion could no longer continue growing.

Now, while the situation was contained, they had to bring in reinforcements and end everything at once.

“Remember this well. You must subdue the Archlich at the outer wall, the elite forces in the central garden, and the bone dragon at the top of the tower. None of them will be able to fully deploy their power. Then eliminate the direct forces of the margrave of Elvester in the secondary wing and go capture Fina, who is in the main building.”

With the scabbard of his sword, he drew a large rectangle on the sand.

He marked the collapsed wall and once again pointed out the location of the secondary wing and the main building.

“The path is already open. If you manage to enter and capture the queen of those monsters, the rest can be eliminated by the reinforcements brought by Countess Rodelia.”

“Understood. Your wounds are too deep. Return as soon as possible and continue your treatment.”

“Wounds come naturally when one wages war. Do not worry. I have no intention of dying before Siern celebrates her coming-of-age ceremony.”

Though writhing in pain, Melverot spoke while staring directly into Dereck’s eyes.

“I wanted to subdue her completely with my own hands, but in the end it was not enough. The rest… can I entrust the conclusion to you?”

“Do not worry.”

“Good. At last today I will be able to cast off this old façade. If you manage to conclude it properly… then it will be worthy of… cough… cough…”

When Melverot coughed up blood again, Raviel, unable to keep watching, immediately ran to support him.

The blood flowing without cease seemed to cloud his consciousness—Melverot’s pupils were losing focus.

“Go in and rest, Melverot.”

It was then that Kalimford, after stepping out of the tent once more, spoke while holding his enormous oak staff.

As if praising the effort of an old friend, he gave him a couple of pats on the shoulder.

Then he bowed deeply to Melverot, who was gradually losing consciousness.

Perhaps when Melverot opened his eyes again, Kalimford would no longer exist in this world.

A simple farewell, yet Kalimford offered his respect with complete sincerity.

“…”

Watching Raviel help him back into the tent, Kalimford lifted his gaze once more.

He sat beside Dereck, who silently observed the count of Elvester’s mansion, and in a lighter voice than expected, spoke.

“In life, it is not bad to become a hero of the Empire once. From experience, I can tell you that with such an achievement, people around you even invite you to more meals.”

“Did you think that as well when you defeated Noir?”

“Not at all. In truth, I was trembling so much my tongue went numb. At the very least, I should have delivered some grandiose speech.”

Covered by his robe, Kalimford gave a bitter smile.

When Dereck stood and began to walk with determined steps, that former hero and legendary Archmage followed calmly behind him.

Heroes of the past are destined to vanish into the shadows of history.

Walking behind Dereck, Kalimford lifted his gaze toward the sky above the count of Elvester’s mansion, filled with wandering souls.

The whirlwind of spirits swirling there strangely resembled the very entrance to heaven.