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Noble Lady Reformation Guide Chapter 128: The Subjugation of Beltus (2)

Chapter 128: The Subjugation of Beltus (2)

The​⁠‍ first to notice​‍‍ the anomaly was​ Orel, the leader⁠​ of the mercenary⁠ group stationed in​‌ the western tower⁠‌ of the Duchy‍‌ of Beltus.

He‌ was a veteran‌‍​ who had been‌⁠‌ through all kinds‌⁠​ of battles while‍ serving the ducal‍​⁠ family for a long time. It​​ wasn’t enough to​ just be strong‌‍‍ and have a fierce personality to‍ hold such a position.

To‍⁠ maintain a key​​ post within the‍ imperial guard, one‌‌ needed both a fiery spirit and⁠‍⁠ an icy rationality.‍

His‌ rough muscles, one-eyed‍‍​ face, square jaw,‍ and the huge​ sword on his‍​ back—every feature declared⁠​​ the presence of⁠​​ a formidable man.‍‍

Although‌‌⁠ he had left‌‍ the imperial family​​⁠ and become the‌‌ leader of a large mercenary corps,‍​⁠ he still maintained⁠‌‌ the same meticulous‌​​ battle readiness he’d​​ had while serving​‌‍ the empire.

“…Something‍‌ feels off in​⁠‌ the main building.”⁠

Orel‍⁠⁠ frowned as he⁠‌‌ drank beer with‌⁠ his strategist in‌​‌ the command room‍‍⁠ of the garrison.​

“…Ah?”​​⁠

“I‍‌‍ hear the servants⁠​ screaming.”

“…I‌‍ could never match⁠​⁠ your hearing, Commander.”⁠​‌

He​ was in charge⁠‍⁠ of the Duchy‍⁠​ of Beltus’s security.⁠​

The‍ reason the Duke‍ of Beltus, with‍ his small number​ of private soldiers,​⁠​ could still hold​‍ his head high⁠‌​ before the three‍ great noble families‍ was because he⁠ had General Orel⁠‍ under his command.‌​

If​​⁠ someone asked why‌​ a wise and⁠‍‌ experienced man like⁠‌⁠ Orel worked under⁠​ a greedy man​‍ like the Duke‍‌‌ of Beltus, the⁠ answer was simple:⁠ money.

The⁠‌​ amount of gold‍‍ coins Orel’s mercenary‌‌ corps received annually⁠‍‍ from the Duchy‌‌ of Beltus for​‍‌ maintaining security was​​ enough to buy‌ a small border‌‌‌ town with ease.‍

And⁠⁠‌ the virtue of⁠⁠‍ a mercenary is⁠‍‌ to work exactly‍‍ for what he’s‍​⁠ paid.

There‌ were few mercenaries‌ in the southwestern​⁠‌ continent, including Ebelstein,​‍‍ as renowned as‌‍⁠ Orel. Leading such‌ a large mercenary​‍‌ corps was only‌​⁠ possible thanks to​ his exceptional abilities.​‍

That​⁠⁠ was why some‍​‌ ambitious mercenaries harbored⁠‌​ the desire to‍⁠​ challenge Orel, but‍ finding him wasn’t​‍ easy, since he​⁠‌ rarely left the‌ Beltus territory.

Orel⁠⁠ adjusted the greatsword​ on his back,‍ checked the two​⁠ longswords at his​​ waist, the dagger​⁠⁠ on his thigh,​⁠ and the various‍​​ supplies on his​⁠ belt, then stood⁠⁠ up.

He‍​ pulled back the‌​ canvas covering of‌​ the garrison completely‌​ and looked toward‌⁠‍ the main building⁠‌‍ of the Duchy‌‌ of Beltus.

There,⁠ terrified servants were​⁠‌ running out of⁠‌ the mansion.

Orel’s​‌​ brows drew together‍⁠ tightly. Focusing on‍​ his nose, he‍⁠‍ could smell the⁠ faint scent of‍⁠ blood carried by‍ the wind.

General‍⁠‍ Orel was a man with unusually⁠‌ sharp hearing and⁠‍ smell.

He‌‍ was also a man who never⁠‍‌ hesitated when it​ mattered.

“Reven.”‍

“Yes,‍ Commander.”

“Wake‌⁠ everyone who’s sleeping.​‌ It’s time to⁠‍ work.”

***‌

Whooosh!​‌​

Crackle!​​⁠ Snap!

The‌ main building of‌‌ the Duke of​⁠‌ Beltus—the isolation room⁠⁠​ where Denise had⁠ been confined.

The‍‌⁠ Archlich that Fina⁠‌ had meticulously crafted‌‍‍ was a disaster​ equal to death‍ itself. The mere‌⁠ fact that such​‍ a monster stood​ upright turned its‍ surroundings into a frozen abyss, multiplying⁠⁠‌ its forces and⁠ forming its nest‍​ wherever it stood.​

When‌‌ Denise regained consciousness,​‌​ the walls of‍‌ the isolation room‌ were already covered‍⁠⁠ with all kinds​⁠⁠ of necromantic magic‌‌ and vengeful spirits,‌‌​ enough to make⁠⁠ one dizzy just​⁠​ by breathing.

With‍‌ a single movement​ of the Archlich’s‍‍⁠ staff, an army​⁠ of corpses rose,‍ and rotting monsters‌⁠​ began staggering out⁠ into the mansion’s‍​ corridors.

If⁠​⁠ left unchecked, the​​ casualties would be‍​‍ countless.

Fina‌‍ loved such scenes‍‍‌ of massacre. But​ unfortunately, Dereck did​ not like unnecessary‌‌ victims in these‌‌ covert power struggles.​‌

Dereck⁠‍ had no qualms​​ about killing, but‍ he wasn’t a lunatic who committed​⁠​ senseless massacres. All⁠‌ he wanted was⁠ to seize the​‍ Beltus mansion and‌⁠ turn it into‌‍⁠ the seat of‌ necromantic magic.

That⁠​ was why Dereck​​‌ had repeatedly insisted‌‍‍ to Fina that​ she limit the​ level of monsters‌‍‌ summoned by the⁠ Archlich’s magic.

Even‍ so, the Beltus​​ mansion already looked​ like a nest​ of evil deeply‌‍ tainted with necromancy.⁠

A place like that​​ had to be⁠​ purged. Creating that‌‌ justification was all‌​​ he needed.

Creeeak.⁠⁠​ Crack.

Screeech.‌

The⁠‍‌ army of corpses⁠⁠​ rising with grotesque‍ noises would chill⁠​‍ anyone to the​ bone.

Especially‌‌​ ordinary people who‌‌ had never witnessed⁠ necromantic magic before.⁠

Inevitable‍‌‍ screams of panic‍​⁠ erupted among the‌‌ servants, and the​‍‌ mansion descended into⁠‌ chaos.

“—Aaah!”​‌

“Save​⁠‌ me! It’s a monster! A monster!”‌‍⁠

Banshees⁠​‍ flew over the​ railing of the‌ main hall, and‍ phantom knights clad​‌​ in armor and‌‍‌ wielding swords began⁠‍ occupying every room​‍‍ with echoing footsteps.⁠⁠

The‌⁠​ aura of necromantic‌ magic spreading across⁠⁠‌ the walls quickly‍⁠ dimmed the light,⁠​ wrapping the mansion​⁠ in darkness.

Little‍‍ by little, the​‌ Beltus mansion was‌⁠ dyed in the‌‍ shadow of death.⁠ As in the‍‍‌ labyrinths of the⁠‍ White Zone ruled‌‍​ by the Archlich,‌ it was becoming⁠‌​ a maze filled​ with vengeful spirits,‍‍ corpses, and the‌​‌ stench of blood.⁠

Boom!​⁠‍

Denise⁠‍ clenched her teeth‌​ as she jumped​​ from the railing​⁠‌ connecting the second​​​ floor to the‍⁠ first.

Around​‌ her, terrified servants‍​​ were crying, barely⁠‍ managing to move‍​ their feet. If‌⁠‍ she left them⁠⁠ there, they would​‍ undoubtedly be torn​‍ apart by the‍⁠ monsters.

She​ used the first-class‍ combat magic “Magic⁠‌‍ Arrow” and “Ice‌⁠ Spear” to suppress‍​ the corpses rushing⁠‌‍ toward her.

Fortunately,​ the main body—the⁠ Archlich—was focused on⁠‍ devouring the entire⁠ mansion. Thanks to⁠‍‌ that, the monsters​‍ it summoned were‌⁠ not yet of⁠ a very high‍ level.

‘If‌‍ I get out‌ now, I can​ survive.’

With​ that thought, Denise⁠​‌ grabbed a maid⁠‍​ frozen in fear​⁠⁠ and ran down⁠‌ the stairs, gritting‍⁠‌ her teeth.

She‍ stumbled once and‌‌‍ rolled down the‍ steps, but the‍⁠‌ thick, luxurious carpet⁠ kept her from⁠‍‌ serious injury.

Crash!‌⁠

“Ow!”‍‌‌

The‍⁠ pain was inevitable,⁠‍‍ but she pushed⁠‍ herself up from‌‍ the floor. Other​ servants who had‍ been dragged or‌‍ thrown by force‌ also began moving‌⁠⁠ toward the exit,​​‍ trembling.

Almost​ crawling along the⁠​‍ ground, she managed‌‌ to reach the​‌ lobby on the⁠ first floor.

Her‍ intention was to⁠ get out of⁠‍‍ the mansion to‍‍⁠ alert the tower.‌⁠ With that in‌ mind, she ran‍‌ toward the marble⁠‍ staircase leading to‍ the main gate.⁠​​

“…What‌⁠ is this…?”

When⁠ Denise exited the⁠ main building, the⁠ entire world was⁠ already being overrun​ by monsters.

The⁠‍ fief of the‍‌ Duke of Beltus—about‌‍ the size of‌‍‍ a decent rural​‍ village. To the‌‍‍ south, the great​‍ garden that resembled‍​⁠ an entire forest‌ was being invaded​ by spirits and​​‍ beasts.

In‍⁠ the eastern tower,⁠ mages had rushed‌​⁠ out to cut‌​ down monsters; the​‍​ same was happening‍⁠ in the camp‍ of the Orel⁠‍‌ Mercenary Corps.

She‌ couldn’t comprehend what‌ was happening. Even​​ Denise, who had‍‍ lived her whole‌​ life among noble​ intrigues, had never⁠‍ witnessed a battlefield⁠‌⁠ like this.

The‍​ Archlich’s magic, devouring⁠ the main building,⁠ seemed to spread‌‌‌ throughout the entire‌ territory.

In​‍​ no time, the⁠⁠‌ place would become‍ a labyrinth ruled‌ by the Lich,‍ and the splendid‌ Beltus mansion would‌ become nothing more‍⁠ than a relic​‌ of past glory.‌

The​‌ necromancy of a six-star mage could‌‌ turn even the​ mansion of a historic family into​‍⁠ a nest of‍‍ death in an​⁠⁠ instant.

Before​‍‌ that power of⁠ a completely different‍ level, Denise felt‌‍ as though the‍‌ entire world was⁠‍ collapsing.

Everywhere,⁠⁠ there was battle,‌ and death filled‍​‍ every corner.

Seeing​‌ the advance of​‍‌ the monsters sweeping⁠‍​ across the estate,‌‍⁠ Denise collapsed where‌ she stood.

“Hah…​ hah… hah…”

From‍​ the highest point‌ of the main‌​​ building, looking out⁠ over the property‌ from the railing⁠‌ near the outer‌⁠ gate, she took​ several labored breaths.⁠

Her‍⁠ trembling hands clutched⁠​‌ the railing, and​‍ her chest, covered​‌‌ by her frilled‍⁠​ dress, rose and‌⁠​ fell endlessly.

Breathe⁠ deeply. Again.

‘Calm⁠‌⁠ down, calm down,⁠‍ calm down. Don’t​⁠​ panic.’

Even‍‌ though everyone else‍‍​ was on the‍‍⁠ verge of breaking⁠​ down, she tried‍‌ to regain her‌‍ reason somehow.

Even⁠​ when goosebumps ran⁠‌ up her arms‍⁠ and her back⁠⁠‌ shivered, she clenched⁠‌‌ her teeth to​⁠‍ resist the fear.‍‌‍

But‌‍ her heart was​ pounding wildly, and⁠‌ tears threatened to‍ fall.

Denise‌​ removed the thought-shaped‌ brooch from her‍​ hair and, using​⁠⁠ its sharp tip,​‌ stabbed her own‌​ thigh once.

The​ pain suppressed her⁠‍​ fear, her breathing‍‌‍ stabilized, and her‌​​ rationality returned. Blood‌‌ ran down her⁠ leg, but Denise⁠​ didn’t even notice.⁠‍⁠

‘Think,​‌‍ think, don’t stop‍ thinking. Every second‍⁠⁠ counts. What do⁠‌⁠ I need to​‍​ consider? What do‍⁠ I need to‍‍‌ decide right now?’​​

‘The​​‍ isolation room—the monster‌⁠ that came out⁠‍​ of my belongings.⁠​⁠ What exactly was‌ it? It’s clearly​​ a high-level demon,‌ but why was⁠​‌ it among my‍‌ things…? It was‍ just my usual​‌‌ luggage…’

Regaining‍​ control over her⁠‍‌ trembling body, she⁠⁠​ organized her thoughts.​‍​

She‌ remembered the gifts‌‍ she had received​ from the young‌‌⁠ woman of the‌​ Tigris territory. Everything‌⁠ else had been⁠ her usual belongings.‌ But not those⁠⁠​ gifts.

A trap?

But‍‍⁠ the young woman‌‍‍ from Tigris was‌ just a nameless​⁠⁠ commoner. Diligent, studious,‌‌ without any great⁠‌ magical achievements.

Although⁠‌​ Denise, out of​‌‌ concern for Aiselin,‌​‌ had observed that⁠ girl a little.‌⁠​

The​ young Tigris girl‍ was among Dereck’s​‍‌ most sincere disciples.‌ She always sought‍‍‍ his teachings.

The⁠‍ most attuned to⁠ Dereck’s will. If⁠‍‌ she acted, it⁠ was likely under‌ his orders.

That‍‍​ was the only‍ conclusion Denise could‌‌‍ reach.

What⁠⁠ kind of large-scale​‍‌ necromantic magic was⁠‍​ this? What were‌ Dereck’s intentions? How‌⁠ had this crisis,‍​‌ threatening to devour‍‌‍ the Beltus family,​ begun?

Everything​ was a mystery.⁠‌

But‌‍⁠ one thing was⁠ certain.

Everything‍⁠​ was happening within⁠⁠‌ Dereck’s palm.

She⁠⁠‍ didn’t know how​‍⁠ far his plans‍‌⁠ reached, but she​‌​ remembered well the‌ look he had‍​ in the office‍‌ of the Ravenclaw​​‌ barony.

The​ mansion garden.

The⁠ words he spoke​ when he was⁠⁠ leaving, leaving her‍ alone.

‘It‍‍ doesn’t matter if⁠‌ you stab me​ in the back.’‍

What‍ had been his‍ intention?

Kindness?‍​​ Magnanimity toward Denise?​‍

No.‌‍‍ She had interpreted​ it all wrong.​‌⁠

She⁠​​ remembered his figure⁠‌ walking away, unable‍ to clearly discern‍ his expression.

‘He‍⁠‌ was trying to‌ use me.’

Denise’s⁠⁠ legs gave out‍‍‍ as she bit‌ her lip hard.⁠

After‌​‍ enduring the flood‍ of emotions, an‍ empty laugh escaped​‍ her lips.

‘How‍​ ridiculous…’

The‍ story was clear.⁠​⁠ The Beltus family,‌‌​ feeling threatened by⁠‍⁠ Dereck Lydof Ravenclaw,⁠​​ had tried to‍‌ crush him.

They‌ had attempted to⁠ kidnap his wife,‌ fabricated scandals, and​⁠‌ even considered assassinating‍​‌ him.

How⁠ could he show​⁠⁠ genuine kindness to‌​‍ someone raised in‌⁠ that nest?

Perhaps‌ once, at the‌ beginning, it had⁠‍​ been possible.

In‍​‍ the dusty basement​‍ of the art‌​​ warehouse, when Denise‌ belittled herself, he‌​ denied it all,‍‌ telling her she​ was worth more.‌

Although‌ she had always‍‌ lived under Beltus’s‌⁠ weight, he believed⁠⁠ she had her‍‌ own value.

But​​ kindness also had​​​ limits.

How‍ could one show‌ compassion toward someone‌ who threatened their​‍​ territory, their family,⁠​ their life?

Dereck‌ was human, too.‌⁠ And Denise was⁠ a subordinate of​ Beltus.

In​ the end, when‍​‍ his patience ran‍ out, it was​ inevitable.

‘Ridiculous⁠ my situation is‍ ridiculous…’

Even⁠ so, Denise had‍⁠ worried about how​ to maintain a friendly relationship with‌‌ Dereck.

Without⁠ considering his possible‌‍‍ exhaustion, resentment, or‌​​ betrayal, she had‌​​ simply let herself​‌‍ be swept away⁠⁠‍ by her emotions.⁠

A childish illusion, believing​‌ herself to be‌ the center of⁠ the world.

Writing‍ day after day⁠ had led her​‌⁠ to believe she​ was the protagonist‍​ of this story.⁠​​ Ridiculous.

The​ pain in her⁠ thigh, the scratches​​ on her skin,⁠‌ the monsters, the⁠‍⁠ screams, the stench—all‌‍‍ kept advancing.

She​​ thought about what⁠‍ was to come.​

If​⁠‍ this wasn’t handled‌ properly, it would​ be a catastrophe.‍‍‌ And even if‌‍ it was, disaster​​ would still be‌‌⁠ inevitable.

The​‍‌ Duke of Beltus⁠​​ would have to‌ explain the origin‍ of the necromancy.‌⁠

Who‍‌‍ would be the‌​ sacrifice?

If⁠ she were the⁠ duke… whom would⁠⁠ she choose to‍‍‍ escape from this?​

The⁠​‍ Archlich—the source of⁠‍⁠ it all. Who‌⁠ had brought the‍ means directly into‍⁠‍ the mansion?

Someone​‍​ who had abandoned‍​‍ their loyalty… someone‍‌ who had tried⁠​ to defend a weak, rural baron.⁠​

The‌‍ most suitable scapegoat.‌⁠‍

Denise’s‌‍ hands trembled as​‌⁠ she looked at‍ the destruction of​⁠⁠ the Beltus family.‌‌‌

She‌⁠ remembered the red-haired⁠‍​ girl from Belmierd,​‌​ branded a witch‌⁠​ because of necromantic‍ magic—she remembered how​‍ easily necromancy could‍ ruin anyone’s life.​

She⁠‍ remembered the white-haired⁠‌ mercenary, with fierce​‌‌ eyes, looking at‍​ all the paintings​‌ with his chin⁠‍⁠ resting on his‍​ hand.

Everything​ had begun because​ of Beltus’s sins.‌

And​‍‍ she was a member of Beltus.​​​ The sacrificial lamb.⁠

A trembling chest. A hollow laugh.

Sometimes,‌⁠ absolute despair pulled​⁠ a smile from‌​ one’s face.

One‌ way or another,​⁠⁠ her end was⁠ already decided.

To‌⁠ become a witch.​

A witch who would⁠​‌ bear all the​‍ curses.

***⁠‌

“Even‍⁠ in that abyss​‍ of wicked deeds,​ if there exists‍‌⁠ one person who‌​ could be called​‍ a saint, it​ would be Lady⁠ Denise, who would​ face all the⁠ malice of her​‌ family and reveal‌ everything.”

“…Indeed,‍‌ is that so?”‍‌‌

“To​‌ discern right from‌‌ wrong and act‍ righteously in such​​‌ an environment is‌​​ not something just​‌ anyone can do.”​​

Clop,⁠ clop.

Countess⁠‍ Rodelia and her​ elite troops acted⁠ so swiftly that​‌ they were already​ leading their horses‌⁠‍ toward the Beltus‍ territory before the⁠ sun was high‌⁠​ in the sky.‍

There​​ was no time‌‍ for carriages, so⁠ everyone gripped the​ reins tightly from⁠‌ their mounts.

They​ advanced so fast​‌ that, to keep⁠⁠​ up, one practically‍ had to cling‌​ to the horse’s‌‍⁠ neck.

Whoosh!​⁠​

From⁠ his saddle, galloping⁠⁠‍ along the forest‌ path, Dereck spoke​⁠ firmly to Rodelia.‍⁠

If‌‍ there was one⁠‍ person still acting‍​ righteously within the​‌ rotten Beltus family,‍​ it had to‍ be Denise.

Rodelia‌ also listened intently‌ to Dereck’s words‌‍ as they rode​ toward the Beltus​ mansion.

And​‌​ in the distance,​‍ the hill where‌⁠​ the Beltus mansion⁠‍​ stood began to‌‍ appear on the‍‍ horizon.

Even⁠ from afar, Countess‌ Rodelia frowned. From‌‌ that distance, it​‌​ was already evident‌‍ that the state⁠‍​ of the territory‍⁠ was not normal.⁠

A swarm of vengeful​⁠ spirits was swirling⁠​⁠ over the estate.⁠

The⁠⁠ force with which‌ those souls whirled‌⁠ made the place‍ seem like a necromancer’s stronghold.

“…Sir‌‍ Dereck. You were‍‍ right.”

Countess‍‍​ Rodelia was someone‌‌ whose hatred toward‌‌ necromancers was unmatched⁠ in the world.⁠

The‍‌ heroine clenched her⁠ teeth, drew her‌‌ sacred blood sword,‍​ and shouted to⁠ her soldiers.

“Faster!⁠ Necromancy is running‌‌‍ rampant in the​ Beltus duchy!”

“Yes,⁠​ ma’am!”

At​‌ that moment, the​⁠​ soldiers, filled with⁠​​ renewed morale, cracked⁠ their reins and​‍ pushed their speed⁠ even further.

– Huuung

Their​ destination was still‌‍‍ far enough away‌​‌ to be seen​⁠ only at the​‌​ edge of the​⁠ horizon.

However,‍⁠ even from that⁠ distance, the sound⁠ of the immense⁠‍ magical power erupting​ from the mansion‍ grounds could be‌⁠ clearly heard.

The⁠‌​ aura of that‍‍⁠ magic was so‍ palpable that everyone,‍‍ including Dereck, was​​⁠ momentarily left speechless.⁠​

Above​‍ the Beltus mansion,​ a gigantic flame⁠​ surged among the‌⁠ spirits.

It​ soon took the‍‍ shape of an​ enormous armored warrior,‍‌​ raising a massive‌ flaming sword in‍ its hands.

The​⁠‌ size was indescribable.⁠⁠​

A giant of fire‍​ so colossal that⁠ it could be​​ clearly seen even‍‌ from that distance.‌‍​ A summoning spell​⁠ of absurd scale,‌⁠⁠ several times larger⁠​​ than the mansion​‍ itself.

It‌ was, at the⁠​ very least, a level 4-star summoning‌ magic.

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