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Noble Lady Reformation Guide Chapter 10: Diella (3)

Chapter 10: Diella (3)

“Brother.”⁠‍

In​ a private room⁠⁠ of the main‍⁠⁠ house that Lady​ Diella used to​​ occupy,

Valerian‌ sat alone, deep⁠‍ in thought, in‍​‌ a small space‌ that hadn’t been‍ visited for a long time but‌⁠ was still regularly​‌‌ cleaned by the‍⁠ servants.

There​‍ he sat, sorting‍‌ through his thoughts,⁠‍​ long after Dereck‍ had left.

As‍‍ he did, Aiselin‌ crossed the corridor⁠ of the main​⁠‍ house, guiding the‍ servants inside.

“The⁠‌‌ butler reported that⁠ Mr. Dereck took⁠‍ Diella out of​ the pavilion…”

“…At‍ this hour?”

‘Yes.‌⁠ Let’s try it.’‌⁠

Dereck​‌ had left the⁠​⁠ room with a determined expression. He‍ seemed to have‌ found something important.⁠

At‌‌​ such a late⁠‍‌ hour, when most​‍​ of the servants‌‌‌ were asleep, Valerian⁠ felt a strange‌⁠ unease.

“I‍‍ should instruct the‌‍⁠ butler to look‌‍‍ into it.”

“But,‌ um… Mr. Dereck‍‌‍ firmly warned us‌‍ not to follow‍​ him… so the​ report came to‌‌​ me.”

“…What​‌ is he planning?”​⁠‍

“Yes,​ exactly…”

Lady‍⁠‌ Aiselin also wore⁠ a worried expression.​‍ Dereck was the​ one she had‍⁠ sought and brought⁠ back.

No​⁠​ one objected to⁠⁠​ her decision because‍​ the Duke of⁠⁠‌ Duplain had granted⁠ him full authority,‍ but still, there⁠ was something unsettling.‍‍​

Still,‍‍ if drastic measures​ were needed, as‍ the Duke suggested…​⁠ Aiselin could say⁠ no more.

“What​⁠ were you doing‍‍‌ in Diella’s room?”​

“Just‌ sorting out my‌​ thoughts. I also‍​‍ took some time‍‌‌ to look at‍ Diella’s paintings after‍ so long.”

The‍‍⁠ room was full​ of canvases. Diella’s‍ last painting. It‌⁠ was an unfinished⁠‌​ piece with many⁠ empty margins on​​‍ the canvas, but⁠ only the painted‌ portions displayed incredible⁠ talent.

Aiselin​ closed her eyes⁠ tightly as she​‌ looked at the​‍ painting and said:⁠

“I‌ hope that one‍‍‌ day Diella will​ finish this painting.‍‌‍ I want to‍‌⁠ frame it and​‌‌ hang it elegantly‌ in the hall…”‍

“Indeed.”⁠‍‍

Both‍ of them, with​⁠‍ sad voices, could​⁠‍ only lament in​‌ the middle of‌ the night.

***‍

Bang!⁠⁠

Even‌‍​ the darkness of‌​‌ night had abandoned‍ Diella’s side.

Dereck’s‌‌‌ magical arrows, fully⁠‌⁠ detecting the enemy’s‍⁠ position, chased after‌ Diella, tearing through​​ branches wildly.

Crack!‍‍​ Bang!

The⁠⁠ twisting, snapping stream⁠‍ of magic seemed‍​ ready to shatter⁠ Diella’s bones at​‌ any moment.

A single hit would​⁠⁠ be fatal for‍​ her fragile body.‍‍ Knowing this, Diella‌ covered her head‍‌‍ and ran up‍‌ the steep forest⁠​​ path.

“Ahh!”⁠⁠

Bang!‍‍

As​⁠‍ Dereck advanced, Diella‌‍ ran in the⁠‍ opposite direction. She⁠ climbed over a large log, slid‌ across the ground,​⁠ and scrambled up‌​ a slope. She​ wove through trees,⁠‌ ducked under a hanging zelkova, and​‌ leaped over a ditch.

Despite​​​ it being midnight,​ she ran the‌‌ forest path without‌ hesitation. Diella was‌​‍ already familiar with​ the geography of‍⁠​ the place. She‌ had memorized the​‌ location of the​⁠‍ forest, the vines‍ that blocked pursuit,‌‍​ the position of‌‍​ fallen logs, and⁠ sharp rocks protruding‌ from the ground⁠ to some extent.​‍

Dereck⁠‍ wasn’t confused. He​‌‍ already knew she‍‌ was very familiar‌ with the forest’s​‌⁠ layout.

The‍‍⁠ landscape paintings that​‍‍ filled her room⁠​ were all of‍‍ the mansion’s surroundings.⁠

It​‍ wasn’t hard to​‌‍ deduce that young​​ Diella had been‌‍‍ a child who‌‍‍ played in nature,‌ running in and‍​‌ out of the‍‌ estate. Her paintings⁠​ clearly exceeded the⁠ level of a typical child.

She​‍​ captured the world‌​ as she saw​ it, with precision.​⁠​ More than that,‍ the numerous bluish​‌ lines she had⁠‌ drawn across the⁠⁠​ landscapes were astonishing.‌

Lines⁠ visible in the​⁠ forest, the trees,​⁠ the sunset, and​ the river drawn​⁠‌ by a child.‍‌ To the untrained‍​ eye, these blue⁠ strokes might appear⁠‍⁠ to be a unique artistic style,‍⁠ perhaps shadow or⁠ texture.

But⁠‌ they were actually‌⁠ expressions of the​ magical flow she⁠ perceived in nature‌ as a child.‍

It‌‍ was the magical​‍ energy in the‌‌ vast forest that‍‍ every mage of​‌​ the Wild Faction⁠​‍ experienced at least​⁠​ once. To be‌⁠ able to see​ and express it‍ meant she had​ unconsciously attuned herself‌‍ to it.

Diella’s‍‌ talent was more‌⁠​ inclined toward the⁠ Wild Faction than​‌​ the Regulated one.‍‌

Dereck‍​ had suspected this‌‌ when he saw‍‌⁠ her paintings. Instead‌ of manifesting magic‍ through rituals bound⁠‌‌ by rules, she⁠ felt the magic​‍ inherent in all‌​‍ things and used​​‍ it freely—that was‍ the essence of⁠​⁠ the Wild Faction.​‍⁠ Though it shared​‌ some aspects with​​‌ the Regulated Faction,‍‌⁠ it differed greatly‍‍⁠ in philosophy.

This‌ girl was born​ with the noblest‌​ lineage but, unfortunately,‌‌‌ the nature of‍ a street mage.‍

Magical​ ability is greatly​ influenced by bloodline.​​‍ However, in the‍‍ end, the mental​‌​ framework used to‍‍‌ materialize magic often‌ follows personal tendencies.⁠‌ Though most nobles⁠‌‌ followed the Regulated‍‌​ Faction, Diella was‍ different.

She‌​ simply loved the‍‌ world. She enjoyed​​⁠ wandering in and‌⁠​ out of the⁠‌‍ mansion, observing, painting,​ and playing.

Even​‌ when the servants‍​⁠ scolded her, she‍‌​ would climb the​‌ mansion walls to​ explore the forest,​‍⁠ sketch rodents in​ her small notebook,⁠‍ lift her skirt​⁠ to wade barefoot‍‌​ into rivers, or‌‌‍ lie in the‌​‌ meadow staring at‌‍ the blue sky.‌

She​ captured all those⁠⁠⁠ moments in her​ art. It was‌ clear she found‍ joy in it.‌​

Everything‍‍‌ began to crack‍‌ from that point.⁠​‍ Unfortunately, in a world where the​‍​ noble Regulated Faction‌​‌ was the mainstream,‍ she was just‍ a misfit.

Bang!‌ Bang! Bang!

As​‌​ Dereck pressured Diella‌​ by firing magical⁠‍​ arrows at strategic‌ spots, Diella once‍‌​ again leapt between​​ trees, desperately trying⁠​ to escape.

Even‌ in mounting terror,‌ she crafted a strategy for survival.‍ Her blood surged.‌⁠​ Her breathing quickened.​‌‍ Her heart pounded.‌‍

The⁠⁠ harsh reality that‌ running away would​‍ change nothing tormented​‌​ her mind. If​⁠ she wanted to⁠​ live, she had‍​ to resist. She​⁠ had to fight⁠‍ with everything she‌​ had—and if she‌⁠​ had nothing, she‌ would fight barehanded⁠‍ until she broke.⁠

“Ha…‌‌ Ha…”

Panting‌‍⁠ to her limit,‍‌ she crashed through‌​ a thicket. The‌⁠ steady pace of‌ Dereck’s pursuit and​‍ Diella’s frantic escape​ were not far⁠‍​ apart. Dereck, a wandering mercenary by‍‍‌ trade, was always⁠ forced to fight‍⁠ in unfamiliar terrain.‍

Knowing⁠⁠ the forest like​ the back of‍⁠ her hand didn’t​⁠ guarantee escape from‍⁠⁠ Dereck.

Bang!‌‌​

“Aah!”‌‍⁠

Another‍ magical arrow flew‌‌ past Diella’s back‌‍ and exploded nearby.⁠⁠ Startled, Diella tumbled‌⁠ down a gentle​​‍ grassy slope. Her⁠ golden hair, already⁠‍ tangled and full‌ of leaves, became‌‍ even messier.

Crack!​‌

Somehow,​ the girl stood‍ back up. Her‍‍ once-neatly styled hair⁠‍⁠ now hung limp⁠‍⁠ over her shoulders.‍ Her lacy pajamas‌ were torn, and‌ her once-lustrous skin​‌ was scratched and‍⁠⁠ dirty.

Yet‍ she gritted her​‍ teeth and rose⁠ again. Falling down‍​ the back of​‌​ the long hill​​‍ led her deeper‍ into the forest.‍⁠‌ In the midst‌‍ of the woods,​‍‍ in a wide⁠​ meadow, stood a solitary majestic zelkova​⁠​ tree.

Leaning‍ on the trunk,‌‌⁠ Diella tried to​ stand. Gasping for​‍ air, she struggled‍‍ to take one​⁠ step at a time. But her⁠‌‌ strength was completely​ drained. Her breath‌ heavy, her chest​ tight.

“Out‍‍⁠ of energy to‌‍ keep running?”

“…!!”‍​‌

The‌ sound of a sword being sheathed​ rang out. Under⁠ the moonlit night,⁠ a boy approached⁠⁠ the girl leaning‍‍‍ against the zelkova.⁠

Dereck,​ smiling in satisfaction,​ closed the distance,‍ but Diella, exhausted,‌ slowly lost strength‍ in her legs​ and collapsed to‌​ the ground.

Then,‍⁠⁠ Dereck approached and​‍ looked down at​‌​ Diella.

“Pant…‌‍ Pant…”

“Anything‍ else you want‍‍ to say?”

“Ugh…‌​ why ask…? Ha…‍‍​ Ha…”

Diella,⁠​ seated on the‌​ ground, lifted her‌‌ head and met⁠ Dereck’s gaze. Her⁠ eyes still burned‍​‍ with life. Though​​ her small body‌ had no strength​‍ left to flee,‍ her will to‌⁠ resist remained unbroken.‍​⁠

“Why?‍⁠⁠ You think I’ll​​‌ apologize? Beg? Say⁠‍⁠ sorry, promise not‌​‌ to do it⁠‌ again… play nice,‍ grovel?”

“…”​‍

“You⁠⁠ might as well​⁠‍ kill me. I’ll‌⁠​ never act beneath‍‌​ my lineage.”

Even⁠⁠⁠ as mere prey,⁠‍​ Diella lifted her‍​ head with pride‌‍​ and looked Dereck‌ in the eye.‌

Dereck​⁠‍ calmly watched her.⁠⁠‍

“Why⁠ are you so‍‍⁠ obsessed with bloodline​ and status?”

“…What‍⁠‌ else do I have?”

Diella,‍⁠​ her trembling fingers⁠‌⁠ clutching at the⁠‍ grass, gritted her⁠‌ teeth and replied.‌ Her voice was​‌ laced more with⁠‌ sorrow than anger.​​

“Magic,⁠⁠‍ studies, painting… I’ve‌‌ fallen behind in​‍ everything… After lagging​‍⁠ so far behind…⁠‌⁠ what’s left for⁠ me besides the‌‍ authority of my‍⁠⁠ lineage? If I can’t even protect⁠‍ that… then who‍​⁠ am I…?”

“…”‌

Then‌​⁠ Diella spoke through‍ her tears. Dereck‍ quietly listened, and​‍‍ after a while,‌‍ he said softly:‍‍‍

“I‍​ saw your sunset‌⁠​ painting.”

“…”‌⁠

“It‍‌ was very well⁠ done.”

“…”‌

The​‍ watercolor of the⁠‌​ sunset Dereck had​‌ seen in her​‍ room. A painting‌​⁠ of a young‌⁠ girl riding on⁠‍⁠ a servant’s back,​​ gazing at the​​ red sky—it was⁠ Diella’s final piece.⁠​

Beautifully⁠‌​ and delicately rendered,​ yet most of⁠‌​ it remained unfinished,​⁠‌ with the edges‍ of the canvas​‌‌ blank.

Most‌⁠ of Diella’s paintings⁠ were like that.​ Her brushwork was​‍‍ clean, her colors​‌ elegant, but large⁠ parts were left​‍⁠ empty.

Valerian‍ had criticized them‍ as incomplete. Even​‍‌ he, who adored‍‌​ her, said so.⁠‌‌ Likely the rest⁠​‍ of the family‌ felt the same.‍​⁠ But from Dereck’s⁠‍‌ modern perspective, it⁠ was different. He‌ felt the delicate⁠ touch leading into‌‍⁠ blank space conveyed‍ aesthetic intention—preserving spatial‌​ impression.

In⁠⁠ short, it was⁠⁠‌ the “beauty of‍‌ emptiness.” A technique‌‌ often seen in​ Eastern art, contrasting⁠​⁠ with the Western‌​​ style of filling⁠‍ the canvas and‍⁠ layering bright colors,‍ common among aristocrats.​

Diella‌‌ had developed her​​ own style in​ such an era.⁠‍‍ Unrecognized by anyone,‍⁠‌ she was a girl born with⁠​ true aesthetic sense.‌ In short, she‍‍ wasn’t just a girl with noble⁠‌⁠ blood.

“What‍ does that mean‌‌ now…”

Diella‍⁠ began to say‍‍ something but stopped.‍ In her stunned‌‍ vision, she saw​​ the flow of⁠‌ magic—so intense it​‌ felt like the⁠⁠ world might burst.​

Her​ survival instincts triggered‍‌ something deep within.​‌ The familiar forest‍‍ where she had​ played since childhood‌​​ merged with her‌ vision.

Only‍⁠‌ when pushed to⁠‍‍ her limit did‌​‍ the girl’s magical⁠ instincts awaken. At⁠​⁠ the edge of‌ her heightened senses,​‍ the flow of‌​‌ all magic in‌​ the world became‍‍‍ visible in an⁠‌ instant.

At‍ that moment, Diella‍⁠ couldn’t even close‍‍‍ her mouth.

“Ah!”⁠​⁠

Without⁠‌⁠ a moment’s pause,⁠‍‌ Dereck’s sword flew​‌ toward her. Diella,‍‍‍ startled, fell backward​ and raised her⁠ hands defensively. It⁠ was instinctive. Of‌‍ course, her thin‌‍ arms couldn’t stop‌ Dereck’s forged blade.⁠‍

But​ the sword never​​ reached her.

Swish!‌​⁠

Clang!‌

The‍​ moisture in the⁠ air around the⁠⁠⁠ girl froze, blocking​‍⁠ Dereck’s sword.

The​ fallen girl opened‍ her eyes wide‍ in shock. Pillars‌⁠ of ice, radiating​‌‌ cold, had formed⁠‌ around her—as if‌ protecting her. It⁠ was her doing.‌

Still⁠⁠‍ too crude to‌​⁠ be called advanced‌⁠ magic, but it‌‌ was at least​ basic elemental magic.⁠‍⁠

Swish,⁠​‍ bang!

Dereck⁠⁠ calmly sheathed his‍ sword again.

Then​ he whispered quietly.‌⁠‌

“Well⁠ done.”

Looking⁠‌ at Dereck kneeling⁠‌ before her, the​⁠ madness from moments​ earlier had vanished.‌‌ As always, he⁠⁠⁠ looked like the‌ calm, handsome mage‌‌ she had seen⁠ at the mansion.​⁠​

Diella⁠ swallowed hard at‍ his sudden change.⁠⁠​ The reason he⁠ had pushed her‌ so far was‌‌ to trigger her​‌⁠ survival instincts.

Until⁠ now, Diella had‍​‍ lived like a flower in a greenhouse, learning magic⁠ at a desk—never​ experiencing this. The‍‌​ feeling of all‌‌‍ her senses sharpening​‍​ just to stay⁠‌ alive.

Diella‌ looked around with‌‌ trembling pupils. The‍‌​ ice pillars, frozen‌​‍ by magical energy,‍‍‌ gradually melted back‍‍ into water, soaking‌⁠​ into the ground.‍

Then​ she extended her​‍‍ trembling hands and​ looked at them.​⁠‌ What she saw‌‍​ was truly the⁠‌ core of magical⁠⁠‍ energy. Diella’s newly​ awakened magic specialized⁠⁠ in cold.

Bluish‌ magic, wrapped in⁠ cold, floated above‌‍ her hands—like the‌​ ideals she had​⁠ never been able⁠⁠​ to reach no‌‌ matter how hard​ she tried. She‍​ had stayed up​ nights reading, practiced⁠⁠‍ endlessly, and worked‌​‍ tirelessly, but it‍​​ had never come.⁠ Only countless failures,‌⁠ pitiful looks, and⁠ quiet contempt followed.​‍

Memories​​ of frustration and​ disappointment piled up,⁠ consuming her, until‍​ she found herself​‍ isolated in a separate home surrounded‍ by rose vines.​‌ Her spirit faded,‌‌‍ buried under authority​‌‌ and status.

The⁠​ magical power—so beautiful​‍​ and radiant—made those⁠‌‍ long, repetitive years‌‌ seem like nothing.‌ Sometimes flowing like‍‌ water, other times​ spinning like the‍ earth… the source‌‍ of power that‌ moved by her‍⁠​ instincts. That image​ was seared into‍⁠‍ Diella’s blue eyes.‍‌

“…”​​

Young​​⁠ Diella, still full​‌ of innocence, had⁠⁠⁠ imagined every night‌ before sleeping how​ happy she’d be‌‌ if she could​⁠‍ learn magic and⁠​ cast spells. She’d‍ run to her‌​ family, grinning from‌⁠ ear to ear,⁠​ bursting with joy.​ So she had‍ studied magic diligently.​

But‍⁠ contrary to those⁠⁠ hopes, Diella didn’t​ move at all​‍ as she witnessed‍ the magic manifest.​ For a long​​ time, she just⁠‍ stared, and eventually,⁠‍⁠ began to tremble‌ slightly.

“Ugh,‌‌​ sniff… ugh… ugh…”‍‌​

Her‌ overflowing emotions were‌‍ more sorrowful than⁠⁠​ joyous.

As⁠ Diella hugged herself‍ and wept quietly,‌‍ Dereck silently looked​ up at the‍‍ starry night sky.‍⁠

The⁠‌ stars, illuminated by⁠ the moonlight, continued‍⁠‌ to shine.

***⁠‌

“Did‍ you really have⁠‍ to do it‍ in such a miserable way?”

“As‌⁠ I said, it‌ was a strong‌​ medicine, but necessary.”​

“Don’t‍‍ treat me like​⁠‍ a patient.”

“…”⁠

Diella‌⁠ was exhausted, as⁠⁠ was Dereck, who​⁠ had cast spells‌​ multiple times.

They⁠ were resting under⁠ the large zelkova‍‍ tree, keeping a considerable distance, each⁠​‍ leaning to rest.⁠⁠

Diella‍‍‌ hugged her knees⁠⁠ while looking at‍‍⁠ her palms. She​‍​ closed her eyes‌ tightly, observing the‌ flickering magic inside.‌‍⁠

“You‍‍ could thank me.”‍⁠⁠

“I’m‍‍⁠ not grateful.”

“I​ know you are.”​‌​

“If‌‌​ you know that,​‍ why are you‍ asking?”

Her‌⁠ tone was still‌‌ harsh, but Diella’s​​ attitude had softened.​ However, her bluntness​​‌ remained the same.‌‍

“I‍ haven’t reached the​ realm of one-star‍ magic yet, so‌‍​ I need more​ practice. A lot​⁠ of time has‍​ been lost, so‍‍ there’s much progress‍⁠ to make.”

“…”​​‌

“Your‌‌ magic is unstable​​‍ at the moment.‍ Starting tomorrow, you⁠ need to learn‍ how to fully‌ materialize it. It⁠ will be the‌ foundation of all⁠⁠‍ level magic.”

“How​ do I do‍‍ that?”

“I’ll‌‍​ teach you tomorrow.”​

Diella​​ lowered her head.​‍

She​‌​ was a mess.‍⁠ Her lush blond​ hair was full⁠⁠ of leaves and⁠‌ dust, her body​⁠ covered in mud—she⁠‍⁠ looked like a beggar. Yet magic⁠‍ flowed through her‌⁠ entire body.

That​‍ single fact surfaced​ gently in her⁠​ heart. It felt​⁠​ like hot lava‌ flowing through her‌‍‍ throat.

“Dereck.”⁠​‌

The‍ girl called Dereck’s‍ name. When he‍ responded indifferently, she​ stared at the‍‍‌ nighttime forest and‍‍‍ finally spoke softly.​‍ Though only the⁠ back of her​‌ head was visible,‍​‍ her calm words⁠​ were clearly heard.⁠

“Thank⁠ you.”

“…”‌

Dereck‍ leaned his head⁠ against the tree‌ trunk, silently observing​ the starry sky,‌ and thought.

It​​‌ wasn’t clear if⁠​⁠ he deserved thanks.‍‍ In truth, Diella​‌‍ had almost learned​​ the basic magical​⁠ quality on her⁠‍‍ own. Dereck had‍‍ only provided the‍‍‍ catalyst. Since she‍⁠ was young, wandering​​ through the forest,​⁠⁠ painting landscapes, observing​‌‌ the world, she‍​ had been honing⁠‍‌ her unique instincts​ through the Wild⁠‍‌ School.

Life⁠‍ was like an‌​‍ unfinished painting, and⁠ magic like the​‌ fundamentals she couldn’t‍⁠ grasp. And without‌​⁠ any other outstanding‍​⁠ talent, her life‍​​ felt like a meaningless blank space‍​‍ on the canvas‍ of her youth.‍​⁠

But‍⁠‌ Dereck, who came‌⁠‍ from the streets,‍‌⁠ knew. Not every​‍ moment in life​‍ can be filled.​‌‍ Whether sitting idly​ in the slums,​‍‍ hungry, or alone‌‌ in her room‍⁠ reading magic books‌​‍ all day, the⁠ empty spaces in‍⁠ life were always​ with Dereck.

It’s⁠ only a matter​​⁠ of how early⁠⁠ or late it​⁠ comes, but the⁠⁠ blank spaces in⁠ life will surely‍‌​ arrive.

Whether​ you lose your​ purpose, dreams, family,‌‌ or friends. A period marked by⁠​⁠ prolonged emptiness and‍ frustration will inevitably​‍ come.

When​ experiences accumulate and‌⁠ maturity begins to​ form, one learns‌ to manage those‍ voids skillfully. Even‍⁠ within that emptiness,​ meaning and purpose⁠⁠ can be found.⁠‌ This, too, becomes​ accepted as part⁠⁠ of life.

However,​‍‍ a void that‍​ arrives too early—before⁠ maturity develops—can sometimes​‍ break someone’s heart.⁠‍​ Because it feels‍ like that’s all‌​‍ life has to‍⁠​ offer. For a young girl like⁠ Diella, that was⁠‍ obvious.

But‌ wasn’t it already⁠ known during the​ days spent wandering‍ in front of⁠​ the canvas with‌​‍ a brush in‍⁠‍ hand?

Only​⁠ when the blank‌⁠ space is filled‍​​ does it finally⁠ become a complete⁠⁠ painting.

“The‍⁠ sunset painting.”

That’s‍​ why Dereck asked‍⁠ softly.

“Was‍ it your work?”‌⁠

“…Why‌‌ are you asking‌⁠⁠ that? I haven’t‌⁠ picked up a brush in ages.”⁠

“Just⁠ wanted to ask.”​​⁠

Diella‍‌​ snorted as if⁠⁠ questioning why he’d‍⁠ ask such a thing. The painting​‍⁠ that the entire‍⁠‌ family cherished most,⁠⁠ urging her to‍‌ finish it soon,​⁠‍ hoping to see‌‌‍ Diella’s complete artwork.‍​ But sadly, it​‌‍ was already complete.⁠

Remaining⁠ silent, Diella finally⁠‍ rested her head⁠‌‌ on her knees⁠ and murmured in⁠‍‌ response.

“It‌ was my masterpiece.”​‌

Such⁠ is life.

Dereck,​​ beside Diella, joined‌ her in gazing​‌ at the moon.‌⁠

***​​‌

The‌‍ next morning, the⁠ first thing Diella​‍ did upon waking‌ in bed was⁠ extend her palms‌ and let her​ magic flow.

The‌ barely visible stream‌‌​ of magic finally‌ showed that the⁠‌​ girl had crossed⁠ the threshold into​‌ becoming a sorceress.‌‍

However,‍ it still seemed‍‍‍ too early for​ complete materialization. She‍ wanted to use‍⁠‍ magic properly right‍​⁠ away, but her⁠​ level was still‍ weak.

‘Starting‌ tomorrow, you need‍​ to learn to‌ fully materialize your‍‌ magic. It will​ be the foundation​⁠⁠ of all emergency​​‍ magic.’

‘How‍‌ do you do‍ that?’

‘I’ll‍ teach you tomorrow.’​⁠

“…”‍‌

Diella,‌‍ resting her chin‌⁠‌ in her hand,‌​ fell into thought.‍‍‍ Her disheveled hair‌ covered her eyes,​ so she blew‌ it aside with‍⁠ a puff, making​​‍ her look like⁠‍ a grumpy cat.​‍‌

Last​⁠‌ night, Diella returned‍ to the annex‌ looking utterly disheveled,​​ surprising the servants.‌‍​ She only slept⁠‍​ five hours after‍ being bathed and‍⁠ cared for.

At​‌‍ the window, the‌‍‍ newly risen sun‍‍​ chased away the⁠​ darkness. The man​‌⁠ named Dereck was‍‌​ probably sleeping deeply⁠​ in the guest​⁠ room of the‌​​ main house.

So​‍​ what? He was‌⁠‌ the one who‌⁠‍ said he’d teach‌ her tomorrow. From​‍ Diella’s perspective, if⁠​‍ she was awake,‍ it was already‌​​ tomorrow. If that‌‍ bothered him, he‌⁠⁠ should’ve specified a time. Her itch​​⁠ to learn how‍ to harness magic⁠⁠‍ was growing.

Diella⁠ got out of‍ bed, still in‍‍ her pajamas.

That’s⁠ when she opened‍ the door to‍ step into the⁠ hallway.

–Thump!​‌

“Ah!”‌​

The​ servant fetching cold​⁠ water from the⁠​ well for cooking—after‌⁠‌ Dereck had emptied‍‍ it—stumbled and fell.‌ Not expecting Diella’s‍‌ door to suddenly​⁠ open, he lost‍‍⁠ control of the⁠‍​ water jar.

–Thump!‌

–Splash!⁠​‍

The⁠‌​ jar rolled, soaking‍‍ the tips of‌⁠⁠ Diella’s sandals and‍ her pajamas.

“…”‌

“L-Lady‌‌‍ Diella! Ouch!”

Diella’s‌⁠ cold gaze fell‌ on the fallen⁠ servant. Butler Delron,⁠​⁠ who had been‍ giving instructions in‍ the hallway, rushed​‌⁠ over in alarm.‍

“L-Lady‍‍ Diella. Are you‌‍⁠ alright?”

“O-Oh,‍ my lady! I’m​ so, so sorry!‍ Please, forgive me‌ just this once!​‍ Please, just once…”⁠‍

The‍ fallen servant hurried‍‌ to sit up,⁠ begging for forgiveness.⁠​‍ Delron also swallowed‌​ nervously, on edge.‍‌

It‌⁠​ was obvious the​⁠⁠ servant would be‍ beaten, and Delron’s‌‍‍ mind raced for​‌ ways to intervene.⁠‌​ If more servants‌‌ left the annex,⁠ managing the workload‍​⁠ would become extremely​‌‌ difficult.

However,‍⁠ Diella only looked‍‍‌ at the servant​‌ with icy eyes⁠‍ and said:

“Be​ more careful.”

With‌‌‌ those curt words,⁠‌ Diella immediately walked‌‌⁠ down the hall‌⁠ briskly. Her intention​‌ was to summon‍​​ the head maid​ to change clothes‍⁠ and head to​​​ the main house.‌‍⁠

Somehow,‍‍ her steps felt‌‌ almost excited—like a young girl eagerly​⁠ awaiting an outing.‍​‍

“…”​​‍

“…Huh?”⁠

Delron‌‍ and the servant‌ looked at each‍‍ other, eyes wide​‍​ with surprise.

It‌ was Diella, of​ all people. In⁠​ a situation where⁠⁠‍ it wouldn’t be‍ unusual for her‍​ to stomp or‍ beat someone half⁠‌ to death, she‍​ left with just‍ a brief word.‌‍ To first-timers, she​​​ might still seem‌​​ rude, but for‌ the servants who‍‍ had worked beside‌ Diella for half‍‌‌ their lives, it⁠‍ was a hard‍‌ scene to believe.‍

Unable‍ to grasp what‍ had just happened,‌ they could only⁠ stare down the‍​ now-empty hallway Diella‍‌‍ had left behind.‍​‌

Only​ a day had‌‍ passed since Dereck‍‍ had taken her⁠⁠‌ hand and pulled‍‍ her from that​​​ house.

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