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Noble Lady Reformation Guide Chapter 152: The Youngest Disciple (4)

Chapter 152: The Youngest Disciple (4)

After‌⁠⁠ that, Trisha kept‍ scratching her head⁠ in desperation while⁠‍⁠ begging Dereck to​⁠ please help her​​​ at least a little, but Dereck,‍​‌ as if raising‍‍​ a wall of‍​‌ steel, rejected all‌⁠‌ her requests.

Even‍‌ if Trisha, who‌​ went around raising⁠ her voice arrogantly‍​⁠ everywhere, had reached‍​ this point of‍ humility, one would​‍ think he might‌⁠​ grant her something;‍ but he had‍‌‌ no intention at‌ all of retracting‍​ the principles he‌ had already established.⁠‌‌

“Miss‍⁠‌ Trisha. Even so,‌‌​ in this world‍​ there is nothing‍ that is absolute.‍ Lady Diella, although⁠ she certainly has​‌​ the temperament of‍​​ an enraged beast,​‍​ if one approaches​ her with complete‌‌‌ sincerity, one way‌ or another she‍‌ eventually opens her⁠⁠‍ heart.”

“…”‍

“To‍⁠ use myself as‍ an example, when⁠‍ I first met​ Lady Diella, I ended up drenched‌‌​ in dirty water⁠​ full of food⁠⁠⁠ scraps. After leaving‌​‍ me like a filthy rag, she‍⁠‍ hurled insults at‍‌ me nonstop.”

Dereck‍‍⁠ remembered the first​‌ encounter with Diella.‍

The‌‍ image of that​⁠‍ small girl shut‍​ away in the⁠ annex of the‍‍ Duplain family, rejecting‌⁠ the entire world‍ as if everything‌‌ were her enemy,​⁠ quickly came to⁠‍ his mind.

“S-she​ did something like​ that? How in‍​ the world did‌⁠⁠ you manage to‌​⁠ connect with such⁠⁠‌ a savage? What​​‍ kind of magic‍⁠​ did you have⁠⁠‌ to use for‍ a wild beast‍⁠‍ like that to‌⁠ end up following‌⁠ you so well…?”‌‌‌

“Hmm…⁠ I did everything​‌ in my power…‍‍ that’s all I will say.”

“No,‍​ you have to‌ give me a clear method so⁠⁠‌ that I can​‍‍ at least try.”⁠

“The​ details are a secret…”

Even⁠ though Trisha argued​‍ with Dereck for‌⁠‍ a long time,⁠ he still didn’t⁠ budge an inch.‍‍‍

In‍⁠⁠ the end, she​ had to accept⁠ that Dereck was⁠​‍ not someone who‌‌ could be persuaded⁠​​ with words or‌ flattery.

Trisha,⁠​ no longer caring​‌‍ about appearance or​​ dignity, grabbed her​ head while letting‍‌ out groans of⁠‍ frustration.

Since⁠⁠ it was uncomfortable‍ to just stand‌⁠‍ there watching her,⁠⁠​ Dereck swallowed a sigh and forced​​ himself to respond.​⁠‍

“Are‌⁠‍ you afraid of⁠ Lady Diella?”

“Ugh…⁠‌‌ i-it’s not fear.⁠‌​ I just think⁠‍ approaching such a tyrant brings nothing‍‍ good. She has…⁠​​ no poise… no‍ elegance…”

“You​‌⁠ don’t have to‌ be that afraid​ of her. As‍ I said, even​ if she seems⁠​​ like someone who⁠‍​ acts without thinking,‍‍ in the end⁠ she is a person who cannot‍⁠‌ step outside what‌⁠ is reasonable.”

“I-it’s⁠ not fear, I said. W-who is‌ afraid of whom…?”‍​

“You‌‌ have spent a long time in​‌‍ noble society, haven’t‌‍⁠ you? In the​ end, Lady Diella⁠ is also a young noblewoman of‌​ the Duplain family,​​ and you must‍⁠‌ not forget that⁠ she is part‌ of aristocratic society.”‌

No​⁠ matter how much‌‍​ Trisha was groaning‌‌⁠ on the inside,‌ Dereck simply said‌‍‍ what he had​​‍ to say.

As‌‌ always, this man​ did not change​ his attitude depending⁠‌​ on what family‍‍ or lineage the​​‍ person in front‌‍ of him came‍​ from. Whoever it​⁠ was, he kept‍ his own center⁠ firm.

“Among⁠‍ nobles, what is‌​ it that they‌‌‍ value most, Miss‌‌ Trisha. You know‌⁠ that better than‍​⁠ anyone.”

When⁠​ Dereck said that,⁠ Trisha’s fingers trembled‌ slightly.

It‍⁠ sounded like a clue, but in‌ reality it was​‍‍ nothing more than​ a superficial phrase‌ with no real⁠​⁠ content. Even so,‌⁠ Trisha could not⁠‌ ignore it.

“What‍ does that mean?”⁠

“Literally.”​

— Creaak.

“Forgive‌​⁠ me for making⁠‍⁠ such a distinguished⁠ guest wait. In‌ any case, the‍⁠ higher the rank,​​ the more work.”‌‌‍

At⁠‌‌ that moment, the​‌ mistress of the‌​ mansion, Countess Rodelia,⁠ entered the reception​‍‍ room accompanied by‍‌ the servants.

Trisha​ finally remembered what⁠‍‍ Countess Rodelia had‍​ emphasized several times:‌⁠ that Baron Ravenclaw‍ was an honored‍⁠ guest in this​ mansion and had‌‍ to be treated⁠⁠ with absolute respect.⁠​

But‍‍‌ Trisha had been⁠ spouting all sorts⁠⁠​ of sincere words​‍ without any filter​⁠ whatsoever, and thinking‌‌ about it, she‌ felt so embarrassed‌ she wanted to⁠‌ slam her head​‍ against the wall.​⁠‌

‘I-I​ lost my mind​​ for a moment.‌ W-what foolishness have​ I done.’

Trisha‌ grabbed her head‍⁠ and held her⁠​ breath, but Dereck,⁠⁠⁠ as always, simply​‍⁠ greeted Rodelia with‌ his expressionless face,⁠ as if nothing​‍⁠ had happened.

It​‍‍ was obvious that⁠​‍ Dereck didn’t take‍ Trisha’s reckless comments⁠‌​ too seriously.

That⁠​ was the kind‌‍‍ of person Dereck‌ was.

***​

“I‍‌​ am sorry that​ I can only​⁠ present a limited‍​ support plan. As‍‌‌ I already said,‍‍⁠ assigning too many‍​‍ resources or personnel​ to another territory⁠‌ is not something‍ very advisable. Also,‌‍ the situation around‍⁠‌ the White Labyrinth⁠ does not look‍ good, so I hope you understand.”⁠⁠​

“No,⁠‌ not at all.‌​ Even just what⁠⁠ you have promised​​​ will be a great help for​‍ the Ravenclaw territory.​ When the infrastructure​ work is finished,⁠ I was thinking⁠‌ of decorating the​ main hall with​‌⁠ a portrait or‍‍ a statue of​‌ Your Excellency, Countess‌ Rodelia, who has​​​ supported us.”

“If‍‍ you do that,‍‍⁠ it will also​ be a great​ honor for me.‌‌‌ You are someone⁠‌ who knows how‍‌ to show respect.”⁠⁠

Once‌⁠‍ almost all negotiations‌​‌ were settled, Dereck​​⁠ prepared to return.‍​

Countess‍​​ Rodelia tried to‍ hold him back,‌‍ saying that since‍​ he had come​ all the way​‌ to the territory,⁠ why not stay‍‌ a little longer;⁠‌ but Dereck, who‍ lived days so⁠​⁠ busy that he⁠​ barely had time‌ to breathe, politely‌⁠ declined.

Rodelia‌ had wanted to‍ take the opportunity‌ to draw Trisha​ and Dereck a little closer, but⁠⁠⁠ since it didn’t​​‌ work as she⁠‍​ hoped, she couldn’t‍‍ help feeling a bit disappointed.

Even‌‌‌ so, she had⁠‌ successfully created a major point of⁠‌ contact between the​ house of Countess​⁠ Renuel and the⁠⁠ house of Baron‌‌ Ravenclaw.

That⁠‍‌ alone was already​ a considerable diplomatic​⁠‌ gain, so with‌ a satisfied smile,‌⁠⁠ Rodelia said to​⁠‌ Dereck.

“I‌⁠‍ imagine my daughter‍⁠⁠ must have committed‍ several discourtesies.”

Countess⁠⁠ Rodelia, wise ruler‌​ of the Renuel⁠‌‌ county, knew that‌⁠ her daughter Trisha‍​ must have already⁠​‌ said all sorts‌‍‍ of things.

Trisha​⁠ had returned to⁠‌ the annex at‌ her mother’s order,‍​ because there were‌​ still matters Dereck‍‌⁠ had to address​ alone with the‍⁠‍ countess.

Taking‍‌ advantage of that‍​ moment, Rodelia offered⁠‍ an apology with⁠‌ a kind smile.‌‌‍

“At‍‍ first glance you⁠ can see that⁠ Trisha is arrogant​ and very vain.​​​ She leans on‍ the prestige of‍ House Renuel to‌‌ look down on‍‍‍ everyone, and wherever‍‌ she goes, she⁠ is obsessed with⁠​⁠ keeping her chin​⁠ up.”

“…It’s​ not that bad.”⁠

“You​ don’t have to‍‌ be so formal.​ I would like⁠‍ our relationship to‍‌ be a little​‌​ closer.”

Although​‌ Rodelia presented herself​⁠ completely open and⁠‌‍ relaxed before Dereck,‌ for a frontier⁠​‍ baron it was‌‌‍ somewhat overwhelming for‍ the head of‌​ House Renuel to⁠ approach him with‌ such familiarity.

When‍⁠ Dereck slightly lowered‍ his head without​ arguing too much,‌⁠ Rodelia sighed inwardly⁠ and spoke with⁠⁠ a more casual‌‌ tone.

“Trisha​‌ surely takes after​‍ her father. My⁠​‍ late husband, Hutton,⁠ always tried to​​‍ teach her useless‍ things.”

“Useless​⁠‌ things?”

“Things​​⁠ like masculine ambition,​ guts, bluffing, taking‌⁠ initiative, reading the⁠ atmosphere—those kinds of‌⁠ showdowns that are‌⁠​ not very useful​⁠⁠ for a young⁠ lady of an​‌ old noble lineage.”​‍

Countess⁠ Rodelia sighed deeply‍‌ as she remembered​ her late husband.​

Mind⁠ games and firmness⁠‌​ could be useful‌‍ in the dangerous‍‍ social world of​‍‍ the nobility, but‍⁠⁠ Rodelia, who spent‍‌ her entire life⁠​ as a warrior​ on the battlefield,‌ was not skilled‌ in such subtleties.‌⁠

Perhaps‌‍‍ that’s why the‌​‌ great merchant Hutton​​​ tried to teach‍‌ Trisha something Rodelia‌⁠‌ could not teach​‍‍ her.

“That’s‌‌​ why Hutton and‍‌ I always clashed​‌ regarding Trisha’s education.‌⁠ Although normally one‌⁠ of us gave⁠‍ in, and that‌⁠ settled it.”

“…”‍⁠

“Even‍ so, Hutton had⁠‍‍ a very good‍ eye for certain‌⁠‍ things. So I also yielded quite‍​‍ a bit. But⁠​⁠ even then, standing‍​‌ in front of‍⁠ a seven-year-old girl​‍ shaking his fist‌⁠⁠ to tell her​‍⁠ not to blink​ or making her‌‌ jump off cliffs‌ to enjoy the‌​ thrill—that really was‌‌⁠ excessive.”

Just‌⁠‍ hearing it made⁠ it easy to‌‍ imagine what kind‍‍ of person Hutton⁠‍⁠ had been.

Seeing‍‍ Dereck’s incredulous expression,​​ Rodelia cleared her⁠⁠‍ throat.

“My‍ husband Hutton was‌​​ really—how could I put it…”

“Yes,⁠ he was a weirdo.”

“…”⁠⁠

“You‌ don’t need to‍​ choose your words.​​​ As I said‍​ before, I think‍ we can become‌ closer. Ahem.”

“I​⁠‍ appreciate you saying‌ that.”

“Hutton‍ was truly a strange man. At​‌⁠ that age, the‍​ normal thing for​​​ a girl is⁠ to start receiving‍​​ proper education in​⁠ etiquette, tea, magic,‍⁠⁠ history, literature—but he,‍⁠ who understood better​‌‌ than anyone the​ importance of a lady’s education, didn’t‍⁠​ seem to want⁠​‌ to teach Trisha‌‍⁠ any of that.”​⁠

Rodelia’s⁠ voice turned slightly‍‍ nostalgic.

When‌ recalling old times,​ it was natural​​ for the voice⁠ to soften.

“Most‌​ likely, by then​ Hutton had already⁠ understood it.”

“…”⁠

What​​‍ had he understood?⁠ Dereck didn’t ask.​ He sensed it.⁠ And Rodelia, seeing​ his expression, let⁠‌ out a sigh.​

“Yes.​​ With your perception,‍ I’m sure you‌ already know. Trisha,​ in every aspect,⁠ is a girl‌​ without any particularly‌ outstanding characteristic.”

Even‌ without Dereck saying‌ it, her parents⁠‌ had already confirmed⁠ it multiple times.‌‍​

“Be‍ it magic, arts,‌⁠ politics, studies, or‍​‍ etiquette—whenever she’s taught‌‍‍ something, she ends⁠‌‌ up a little‌‌ below average or‍⁠ a little above‍ it. Never enough⁠​​ for anyone to⁠‌⁠ call her useless,⁠⁠ but never enough‌‌‌ for anyone to⁠ call her talented​​‍ even once.”

“Miss⁠​⁠ Trisha herself told⁠​ me that.”

“Exactly.⁠‍ Compared to your‌ students, who shine⁠‌ like stars every‍​‌ one of them,​ Trisha must look​ like a dull‍​​ stone.”

Dereck⁠‌‌ couldn’t nod, but‌‌‍ he didn’t deny‍⁠⁠ it either.

Even‌ if Trisha were‌ his disciple, the‍ chances of her​‌ achieving dramatic growth‍‌‌ were almost zero.‍

All​‍ the students Dereck​‍ had taught until‌​ now had the​‍​ “sky open” above⁠‍ them, without limits.‌‌‌

Siern⁠ and Denise, for‍ example, could be⁠‌ called prodigies or‍​ geniuses.

But⁠ Trisha’s upper limit​‍‌ was clearly sealed.⁠‌

Dereck‌​ could say with​​ certainty that even​​ if he taught‍ her personally, he⁠‌ could only bring‍ her to a level slightly above​ average.

“Mediocrity‍‍ is not a sin.”

Rodelia​​​ lowered her gaze.⁠

“But‍⁠ there are those‌ who, because of‍‌​ their position from⁠‍ birth, are not​​​ allowed to be⁠​ mediocre. It’s not​⁠⁠ something that can​‌‍ be solved just‍ because others say​‍ ‘it’s fine’.”

She⁠‌ was the daughter⁠‍ of the continental⁠ heroine Rodelia and​‌ the great merchant‌‌‍ Hutton. It was​ easy to imagine⁠‌ the situation in‍⁠ which she had​‍‌ grown up.

That‍ obsession with keeping‌​⁠ her chin raised​ was a kind‍‌‍ of desperate struggle.⁠‌‌

Dereck​⁠ made a decision.​⁠‌ He had to​‍ be clear, to‌‍‌ avoid future problems.​

“Even‍​ if I taught‌‌​ her directly, Miss​ Trisha would never‌‍​ reach the level⁠⁠⁠ of 3 stars​ or higher.”

It​‍ wasn’t a guess,⁠‍‍ but a certainty.‌

And‍​ Rodelia knew that​⁠⁠ man didn’t make​‍‍ statements lightly. So​ she closed her‌ eyes for a few seconds and​‍ nodded.

Rodelia‍‌ lifted her gaze‍‌ toward the clear‌ sky, remembering the⁠⁠‍ past.

Hutton,⁠⁠⁠ who adored his‍‌ daughter more than‌ anyone, at first​⁠ taught her all‌‍‍ the subjects of‍ a noble lady.​‍⁠

But‍‌ one day, he⁠⁠ abandoned all of⁠‌​ that and focused‍⁠ solely on strengthening‍‍ her mentality and​‍​ courage.

Probably‍​‍ because he had‌⁠‍ seen exactly what‌⁠⁠ the limit of⁠​ his daughter’s talent‌‍⁠ was. Hutton had​ an exceptional eye⁠ for those things.‍

She⁠⁠ remembered the days‌‍ when little Trisha,‌‍ with eyes bright‍ with curiosity, followed‌ her father.

That‌ girl who ran​⁠‌ through the forest,​​‍ climbed cliffs, and‌ fished in the‌‌ river while her‍⁠ father guided her.‌‍‍

Thanks⁠‌‍ to that, she‍⁠ developed a rough‌​ personality; but Hutton⁠‍‍ wanted to engrave⁠​‌ only one thing​‍ into her heart.‍⁠‍

The‌⁠‌ girl who looked‍ at the open‍‌​ sky with ambition⁠‌‍ would inevitably someday⁠⁠‌ crash against reality.‌

In​ a social world‌ full of brilliant‌ beings, the day‍ would come when⁠⁠‍ she would have⁠ to lower her​ head, lamenting her‌‍⁠ faded talent.

That‌ is why the‍⁠ only thing a father had to‌​⁠ carve into his​‍ daughter was:

— “Never shrink back.”‌

It​‌ was the last‌ message of the‍⁠​ man who started⁠⁠ as a beggar​‌ and ended up​‌ the owner of​ a commercial empire.⁠​‌

— “Even if it​‍‍ seems like everyone⁠⁠‌ is playing above​‌ your head, never​‍ shrink back, Trisha.”⁠‍

It​‌‌ was what he‍​ told her while‌​ drying clothes before⁠⁠ a fire near‍⁠ the cliff after​ spending the whole​⁠⁠ day catching fish.‍

He​⁠ gave her a closed fist for⁠​⁠ her to bump⁠ and promise.

It‍⁠ didn’t matter if⁠ she seemed arrogant,​⁠⁠ pretentious, or if‌ people insulted her.‍⁠

Even⁠​ if they considered​ her a third-rate‍⁠⁠ villain, greedy and‍‌​ conceited, or a mediocre person.

She‍‌​ must never worry​ about that.

No​‌ matter what happened,‌ she must never‌‍ shrink back.

It​ was what Hutton⁠‌‍ repeated again and⁠‍ again, the man⁠‌ who reached the‍ top with sheer⁠ tenacity.

Was‍⁠ that message still‍‍‍ in her heart?⁠

“In⁠ short, he was​ a bizarre man⁠‍‍ without control, without‍ elegance, and completely‌‌ unpredictable. Even now,‌ remembering him is​ dreadful. I have‌ no idea how​‍​ I endured the​‌ marriage. Whenever I think of him,⁠​ I can only‌‌ sigh.”

“…”‌‍

“But‌⁠ well…”

The⁠​ countess Rodelia, who⁠ spoke as if‍ remembering an enemy,‍ slowly closed her‍​‌ eyes and smiled.​⁠

“As‍​ a husband, he​ wasn’t that bad.”‌

***‌‌⁠

‘What​⁠​ is that thing⁠⁠‌ nobles live and‌⁠⁠ die for, Miss‍‌‌ Trisha? You know​‍ that better than‍​ anyone, don’t you?’‍​⁠

At‌‌ this point, she‌​ could only cling‌⁠​ to her pride.⁠‌

The‌ idea lit up‍​​ inside her that,‍ one way or​⁠ another, she would⁠ become Dereck’s disciple.‍

It​ was as if‍ her pride had‍⁠⁠ been mercilessly scratched.‍‌

Trisha,‌‌ lying alone on‌​​ the bed in‌‌ the private room,‍​ gnashed her teeth‌ and then let​ out a long⁠ sigh.

The‍ image of that‍ young lioness with​⁠‍ bright red eyes,‌‍​ radiating intimidating ferocity,‌‍​ came to her​‍ mind.

The​‌⁠ number one in⁠​ rank at the​‍ Ravenclaw academy, the‌​‍ principal disciple, Diella⁠⁠‌ Katherine Duplain—to be⁠​‍ honest, just standing​​‍ in front of‍ her already instilled​​‌ a paralyzing fear.⁠

Dereck‌​ had managed to​‌ tame that crazy⁠‍ girl and turn‌ her into his‍‌​ disciple; it was‍‌⁠ something she still‌‌‍ found impossible to‍‌ believe.

Seeing‌​⁠ her become a meek lamb only‍‌ in front of‌‍‍ him was an​‍ unimaginable spectacle.

Even‌ so, she too⁠‌ was a noblewoman.‌ What is that​​ thing nobles live‌​ and die for?​‍​ In reality, the⁠‌​ answer was simple.‌

“It’s‌​⁠ legitimacy.”

Legitimacy,‍ legitimacy—that damn legitimacy.‌‌​

Maybe​​‌ it didn’t make‌ sense to talk‍⁠‌ about legitimacy with‍ a young wild​‌⁠ beast like her—but⁠ legitimacy is something​ that, if one​⁠​ knows how to⁠ manipulate words, can⁠‍‍ always be manufactured​​ somehow.

“…”⁠

Trisha,​ lying in the​ dark room, stretched⁠‌⁠ her hand toward‍⁠​ the ceiling and​ clenched her fist.⁠

She⁠ felt strength rising​‌‌ up to her⁠ nose, bit her​⁠‍ lower lip firmly,‌‌ and exhaled strongly.​‍

Then​​​ she narrowed her‍‌‍ eyes and gathered​​‌ her courage.

“I⁠‌⁠ am the noblest⁠ of the ladies​ of the line⁠ of Count Renuel.”‌​

She​‌⁠ swallowed her uneven​⁠ breath and clenched​ her fist again.⁠

Her‌ mind began spinning‌ at full speed.‌

Four​ days later, at‌‍‌ the Hall Rose​‌⁠ meeting.

Among​‌ the numerous sons⁠ and daughters of‌⁠ influential families who‍ were at the‌​⁠ Elfontaine building for​⁠⁠ academic research, a single young woman‍‌​ advanced cutting through‌ the entire hall.‌​

Wherever​‌‌ she walked, the‌⁠ crowd split in⁠ two.

Each​⁠ time she took⁠‌‌ a step, everyone​ watched her movements;‌ each time her‍‌ abundant blonde hair‌ swayed, everyone stepped​​‍ back, afraid of⁠‌​ blocking her path.‌​

If‌⁠⁠ she looked to​‍​ the right, the‌​‌ people on the​⁠​ right swallowed hard;​​ if she looked​⁠‌ to the left,‍​ those on the​ left broke into⁠‍‌ a cold sweat.⁠

At⁠‍‌ some point, this​ little tyrant had‌​ become the ruling‌⁠ figure of the‌ Hall Rose, capable⁠‌ of subduing the⁠‌​ whole hall with‌​ her gaze alone.⁠⁠

Such‍‍‍ was the fleeting⁠ nature of worldly​‌ power.

Nothing​ had changed, but​ depending on support​​‌ and shifts in‍ political tides, one⁠‍ could go from​​ being crushed on‍ the ground to​ walking above the‍⁠ clouds.

With‌‌⁠ no intention of‌‌​ dealing with that​‍‍ rabble that didn’t‌ even seem noble,​‌ the young woman‌ walked heavily through​ the crowd.

“Good‌‍‍ morning, Miss Diella.”‌⁠

But⁠​ someone stood directly‍‍‌ in her way​ without moving aside.‍

Diella⁠‌⁠ frowned, but the‍​​ person in front​‌ of her lifted‌ her head even⁠‍‌ higher and took⁠‍ a deep breath.​‌

“You​​ don’t seem to⁠​⁠ be in a good mood, hmm?”⁠​

“Tri…⁠ Tri… what was⁠​⁠ it? Your name.”‍‌‍

Although⁠⁠ she knew perfectly‌‍ well that her⁠⁠ name was Trisha,‌‌‌ Diella purposely decided⁠ to scratch her‌‍ pride.

Trisha‍​‌ held back her​​ emotions, forced a smile, and recalled‌​ one by one⁠ the words her‌ late father had​‌⁠ engraved in her​‌‍ throughout her life.‍​

As‍⁠‍ a lady of‍‍‍ Count Renuel, she‌ had to always⁠‌​ live elevated, proud,‌ dignified, and with​‌ her posture high.​‌

But‍‌‍ life always brings‌‍ tests that seem​⁠⁠ to measure how‌ far a person​‍ can fall.

“Get⁠ lost.”

A single word from‍​ Diella made the⁠⁠ entire hallway fill‌ with a freezing​‌ sensation.

It​ was like facing‌‍ a lion inside⁠‌ a cage.

Worrying‍⁠‍ about one’s clothes⁠⁠‌ or about not​ getting one’s shoes‍​​ dirty in front‌⁠⁠ of a wild‍ beast was stupidity.​

To‌ survive in there,⁠ one had to⁠⁠‌ be willing to⁠⁠ roll in the‍ mud.

And‍⁠ the most valuable⁠​⁠ thing Trisha inherited‌ from the banker‍‍ Hutton was her‍ courage.

Trisha‍⁠​ smiled softly. She⁠ had spent days‌‌‌ practicing words in​‍ front of the​‍ wall—words she had​⁠⁠ never said in​⁠​ her life.

Now​ she just had‌‍‍ to let them‍​ out lightly and​ firmly.

The‌ more impactful, the‍‍ better.

“Let’s​ fight, bitch.”

Thus,⁠⁠ the atmosphere of‍‍ the Elfontaine building,​​⁠ full of spectators,​‍ froze instantly.

They​‍‍ wondered if their​‌ ears were malfunctioning.‍⁠‍

They⁠⁠ had heard something,​​⁠ but it seemed​⁠‍ too absurd to‍ be real.

The‌ young noble ladies,‌‌ with their mouths‌‍‍ open, were left​⁠‍ petrified, unable to‍‌ move.

Rest​‌ in peace Trisha.⁠⁠

As⁠‌ if they had⁠ agreed on it,‍‌ everyone fell into​‍ a solemn silence.‍​‍

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