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Noble Lady Reformation Guide Chapter 163: Who are you a disciple of? (3)

Chapter 163: Who are you a disciple of? (3)

In‌‍​ Fina’s long and‌‍​ exhausting life, there‍​‌ was a time—perhaps‌⁠‍ the last—when something⁠ like life still‌​ shone in her⁠⁠⁠ eyes.

It​‍⁠ was the period‌​ after Kalimford’s death.‌‍​

The​⁠ time when, grinding‌ her teeth at​ the man who‍‌‌ failed to keep‍⁠​ his promise, she​ devoted countless years​‍​ to researching advanced⁠‍‍ corpse resurrection.

Those‍‌‌ efforts to reach​ the rest of⁠‌ death, to put​​ an end to‌⁠ that life once‌‌​ and for all,​ were—at least to‍ her—the only thing⁠‍‌ she could consider⁠‍⁠ “valuable.”

However,​​‍ Kalimford’s confession, which‍‍ crushed all of‍​ that effort as‍ if it meant⁠​ nothing, forced Fina‍​ to blink again​‌ and again.

“How…‌⁠​ how could you​​ do this to​⁠ me…?”

“I​⁠ have no excuse.‌ Even if I had a thousand​ mouths, there would⁠‍ not be enough‍⁠ words. I…”

“Do​⁠ you have even⁠⁠⁠ the slightest idea‌ of what you‍ did while you⁠​‍ were peacefully dead?‍ I… I trusted‌‍ the promise you​​‍ made to me‌‌ without a shred⁠ of doubt… do​ you know how⁠‍ many centuries I sacrificed for that?”‌

Fina​⁠​ clenched her teeth‍⁠⁠ hard and grabbed‌‌ Kalimford by the‍⁠ neck.

The‌ body that could‍​​ barely remain upright‌‍‍ on the experimental‍ table was dragged‌ forward, and blood‍ began to spill​ from his throat.​‌‍

When​‌‌ Fina brought her‍ face close, hatred⁠ and resentment burned‍​‍ in her eyes.⁠​‌

“You⁠‌ were a hero⁠​ of humanity. A man who never⁠‌ scorned a promise,​‌‍ not even one‌ made to a child found on​‌ the street. You​‌ swore to live⁠​ doing what was​ right under the‍ heavens. And yet…‌ how could you⁠ do this to‌‍ me…?”

“I​ already told you…⁠ I had no‍‍ other choice either.​‌ To obtain the⁠​ help of someone⁠ like you, who​ looks down upon​‌ the world and‍⁠​ distrusts everyone… there​‍ was no other‌ way. If I hadn’t had your‌‍‌ power… the damage‍‌‌ would have been⁠‌‍ far greater…”

“Shut‌ up! I don’t‍‌ care about that!‌ Damn you…! Damn‍⁠⁠ you…!”

Smack!​

Crunch!⁠

Kalimford’s‍​ body, newly resurrected‍ and weak to​‍⁠ the extreme, was‍​⁠ sent flying by‍​​ Fina’s kick.

He‌⁠​ coughed violently, trying​​ to prop himself⁠‍⁠ up on the‌‍‌ floor, but his⁠‍⁠ body would not​‍⁠ respond.

Fina⁠ kicked him in​‌ the chest again‌‍​ and, concentrating mana,⁠⁠⁠ released a shockwave‌⁠​ that hurled him‍ into the wall.⁠‌

Kalimford‌⁠‌ slammed into it,‌‌​ rolled across the‍‌‌ floor once more,‍⁠ and unbearable pain⁠ shot through his‍ chest as his‍ bones shifted.

Blood​​ began to spill​‍⁠ from his mouth.‍

Even‌​ so, amid the‍​ pain, Kalimford managed⁠ to slowly get​ back up.

“Your‍‌⁠ anger… is justified…‌‌‍ Fina… cough… cough…​ I’m sorry… I have nothing else⁠‍‍ to say…”

“What‌ are you talking‌ about with that‌‌⁠ look of superiority?”‌

“Vent‌‌‌ it all… as‍ much as you⁠‌ want… it’s your⁠⁠‌ right…”

“Ha…​⁠⁠ right, the noble‌​ hero has spoken.​‌‌ Do you think​ I’m incapable?”

From⁠​ Fina’s hand sprouted⁠ a blade of⁠ mana.

Like⁠ a sword formed⁠​​ from rose vines,‍ it pierced Kalimford’s‍ shoulder, was withdrawn,‍‍​ and then cut‌​​ into him again‌‌​ and again.

Blood​​ splattered onto the​‌‍ hem of her⁠ dress.

A red line crossed​‍‌ Fina’s face.

Kalimford⁠​ screamed in pain.‍‍⁠

Blood‍‍ continued to gush‍‌‍ out.

Fina‌ kicked him, crushed‌‌⁠ him, immobilized him‍⁠⁠ with mana, engraving‍​⁠ pain into every​ part of his⁠ body.

Blood⁠ covered the floor.​⁠

Kalimford’s‌ body was left‍​​ utterly broken.

“Haah…‌‌⁠ haah…”

After‌‌ a long bout‍ of brutal violence,‌⁠ Fina stopped to⁠‍ catch her breath.‌‍‌

In⁠ the blood-soaked underground‌‍ laboratory, only the​ body of the‍ former archmage remained,‌‌⁠ breathing with difficulty.​​⁠

But​‌ no matter how‍⁠‌ much she destroyed​⁠ his body, her⁠‍⁠ rage and sorrow‍‌‌ found no solace.‌

Everything​⁠‌ was futile.

The‌‌⁠ chains of life‌‍ still wrapped around‌⁠ her limbs.

“Fina…”‌

Kalimford,​‍​ covered in blood​‍⁠ and on the‍‌‌ verge of death,⁠‍‍ spoke in a barely audible voice.‍​‍

“What‍ more are you​‍‌ going to say‌ now?”

“I‌‌ have no right​⁠⁠ to ask this…‍​​ it’s selfish and​ pathetic, I know,⁠​ but…”

The​​⁠ legendary archmage, with‍​ his withered body,⁠‍ gathered his strength​ to speak.

“Let​‌ me… live… at‍ least my life…”⁠‌

Upon​​​ hearing those words,‌​​ Fina’s eyes widened.⁠‌‌

After‍ all this, he‌ was begging for⁠⁠ his life?

The‍ hero who sacrificed‌‌‌ himself before Noir,⁠‌⁠ who saved the‌ world with honor,‍ was now pleading‍ for his life,‍ beaten in the⁠​ corner of an‍‌ underground laboratory?

“You‍ can… kill me…‍​ that’s fine… but…”‍‍​

A tear ran down‌⁠​ Kalimford’s bloodstained face.⁠

“I‌ want to see⁠⁠ Siern… even if⁠ only once…”

***‍​

The⁠⁠ words stuck in‍‌ Fina’s throat.

His​ only daughter.

The‌ child he had‌‌‍ left in the​ care of his​​ friend Melverot when‌‍ he departed.

The‌⁠ daughter he could‌​​ not protect while‌‍⁠ saving the world.‍‍

He​ wanted to see⁠​​ her one more‍ time.

Just⁠⁠‍ once.

That‍⁠‍ was the final⁠ wish of the‌ archmage who had​ abandoned everything.

Parental⁠ love.

Love​⁠‌ for one’s child⁠‍ is like that.​

Humans,​⁠ finite beings, love⁠‌ their children desperately‍‌ because they know‍‍⁠ that one day⁠ they will disappear.‍

Death,⁠⁠⁠ as an inevitable​ rest, drives them​ to protect what‌⁠ they will leave‌​​ behind.

That‌ was something that‌ would never be‌​‍ granted to Fina.​

Hearing‍​‌ that plea, an​‍ inescapable truth was‍​ carved once more​‍‍ into her heart:⁠ Kalimford belonged to‍⁠​ a different world⁠‍ than hers.

He‍‍⁠ possessed the nobility⁠⁠⁠ of humans who‍ struggle within their‍⁠ finitude.

She,‌⁠ on the other‌‍ hand, had spent​‌ centuries fighting without‌‌ even being able‌​‌ to reach death.‍

Even‍‌‍ though he had​ been resurrected, his⁠‌‌ essence had not‌ changed.

Clang!‌

The‌‍ sword fell from‌ Fina’s hand and​​ rolled across the‌ floor.

She‌⁠ understood then that​​‌ the chains of‍‌ life would never‍​ release her.

“Haah…‌ haah… ugh…”

Vomit⁠​‌ rose in her​ throat, but did⁠ not come out.‍⁠

Fina⁠‌‍ kicked Kalimford’s face‍ with all her⁠‌⁠ strength one last‍ time.

Thud!⁠⁠‍

His‌‍ head snapped to⁠⁠‌ the side, and⁠‌ several blood-stained teeth⁠ flew across the​⁠⁠ floor.

After⁠ striking him once​​​ more, Fina breathed⁠‌⁠ heavily and spoke⁠ through clenched teeth.⁠​

“Get​​ out.”

“Fina…”​⁠⁠

“Disappear⁠ right now. Never‍​ show yourself before​‍​ me again. If⁠‍‍ you do… whether‌ it’s you or​‍​ that daughter you‌‌ protect so dearly,⁠⁠ I’ll kill you‌‌‍ both. I’ll destroy‍‌‌ your limbs one⁠‍‍ by one, tear‍⁠ off your ears,‍ gouge out your⁠ eyes, and let​⁠ you bleed out‍​ in agony.”

“Fina…⁠ cough… haah…”

Kalimford,‌‍ spitting blood, managed​⁠ to stand.

With‌ a trembling hand,‌‌​ he wiped the⁠‍⁠ blood running down​⁠ his face and,‍⁠​ forcing his weakened‍‌⁠ body, staggered toward⁠ the stairs leading‍ out of the‍ basement.

“Fina…”‌​​

“…”⁠

“Thank​​‌ you…”

They⁠ were not words⁠​ one would say‍​ to someone who​​‍ had left you‍ at death’s door,‍ and yet Kalimford⁠ bowed respectfully and‌‌ climbed the steps​​​ one by one,‍⁠ bracing himself against‌ the stone wall⁠​ with blood-covered hands.⁠‌‌

When‍ the sound of​⁠‍ his footsteps faded‌​ away—

Splash!‌‌

Fina⁠ collapsed to her​ knees, planting her‍‌ hands on the‌ floor.

She‍​⁠ silently stared at‍ the blood covering​​​ her hands and​‌ thighs.

Tears‌‌ began to fall.‌⁠⁠

“Ugh…‌‍​ ngh… hhk…”

She‌⁠‍ bit her lower⁠⁠ lip and clutched‍​ her trembling chest.‌

What⁠ had she lived⁠​ all that for?​‍

She‍ thought she had‌‌‍ seen the end⁠⁠‌ of her life,‌ got carried away⁠​ on her own,⁠​‍ rushed alone toward⁠ that goal, and‍⁠ after centuries of⁠ effort, had obtained⁠ nothing.

Nothing⁠ had changed for​‌ hundreds of years.⁠‍‍

She​‍‍ was still a foreigner in this​⁠ world, destined to‌‌ wander in darkness,‌ surrounded by corpses‌ and blood, seeing​‍‍ only the mark​​‍ of reincarnation engraved​ upon her soul.⁠​

Lost.⁠​

Like‌ sailing the open‌‌‍ sea without a map.

Like‌ staring at a completely blank canvas.​​‍

Like​‍ standing alone on⁠ a snow-covered plain.⁠​

That‍​​ was Fina’s life.‍

Even⁠‍ the one path​ she believed to​ be her escape‌​‍ had crumbled.

Everything⁠ was empty.

It‌‍ was then, as⁠​ she tried to‍​ stand up unsteadily—‍‌

Clack,‍⁠ clatter!

Something‍​ fell from the⁠ experimental table and‌ rolled into a pool of blood.​​‍

Amid​⁠​ the dark red,⁠ she recognized what⁠ it was.

The‍ seal that the⁠‌ baron Ravenclaw had‍ given her when⁠​‍ she left his‌ territory.

A metal plate hanging⁠⁠‍ from a necklace,​ engraved with the‌‌‌ emblem of the‍‌ Ravenclaw family.

Fina’s‍ violet eyes flew​​ open.

She​ collapsed back onto​ the bloodstained floor⁠ and held the‌ seal with both​ hands as if‍ it were something​⁠ precious.

“…Yes…‌ that’s right…”

Looking‍ into those eyes,⁠⁠​ something was unsettling.⁠‍‌

Even‌​ within those pupils‌‍ that seemed to​​ spin endlessly, her​​ reason evoked only​‍​ a single man.‍⁠

“Dereck…⁠​‍ Dereck, right…?”

Loss⁠ turned into emptiness.​​

Emptiness​‍​ became lack.

And‍⁠‍ lack blossomed into‌‌ a new obsession.​

The​‍⁠ young woman who‌ had writhed in​​‌ pain and wandering​‌ felt, once again,‍​ that she had​‍​ found a new‌⁠ objective within this‌ endless wheel of‌‌ reincarnation.

If​​‌ even Kalimford had​‌⁠ not been capable,‌‍ then it was‌⁠‌ enough to find​​‌ someone who surpassed​​ him.

A man who dreamed​ of reaching seven​ stars, who possessed‍ a vessel more​‌ vast than any‌‌ mage she had‌​ seen thus far.‌​⁠

A mage with talent​ for combat magic‍‍​ like Kalimford, and​‍ who moreover showed⁠ mastery over confusion​‍ magic and tracking‍​ magic.

A truly colossal vessel.​​

He‌⁠ was still weaker‌‍​ than Fina in​⁠ terms of power,‌‌​ but the magnitude​ of his potential‌‌‌ was something even​​‍ she acknowledged.

“Yes…‌‌ my disciple… my‌⁠ disciple whom I taught… whom I taught with my‍‍ own hands… my‍ only disciple… the‌‌​ one who will‌​ grant me rest…⁠​‍ the one who⁠⁠⁠ will make me​ sleep… my disciple…”‍​‍

A dark, reddish energy​​ began to swirl​‌ in Fina’s eyes.‍​

Anyone‍‍ who met that​‌ gaze would have‌‌‍ swallowed hard and​ instinctively stepped back.‍⁠​

“Of‌‍⁠ everyone I met‍ in this extremely⁠⁠‍ long reincarnation… my‍‌ disciple was the‌ one who possessed​​ the most brilliant⁠ talent…”

Clutching‌⁠ the seal tightly‌ as if it⁠ were a treasure,​‍ Fina smiled amid​‍​ the rivers of​​ blood still flowing.​⁠​

However,​‌‍ when she imagined​‍ the face of‍ that disciple, now⁠​ lord of the‍ Ravenclaw territory, something​​ made her heart​⁠ ache.

She⁠​‍ remembered Dereck, brimming⁠‍‌ with joy at‍‌ the thought that​‌ his former teacher⁠‍‍ would come to⁠⁠‍ visit him.

Thus,‌‌ Fina pressed the​ seal to her​‌ chest and lowered⁠ her head.

“He⁠​ is my disciple…​​ I won’t give‍ him to anyone…⁠‍ he… is my​​‌ disciple…”

In​⁠‍ the dark, bloodstained‌‍​ underground laboratory, the⁠​​ crimson eyes of⁠⁠ the six-star necromancer⁠‌‍ mage stirred only⁠‌ once.

***‍

“…”‍⁠

“Is​‍‍ something wrong, Master?”‌‌

“No…‍​ I suddenly felt⁠​ a chill. It’s​‌ nothing. Although it‍⁠‍ does seem that⁠‍ the weather has⁠​ grown quite cold.”‍​

Katia‌ glanced for a moment toward the​⁠ plain they had​‍‍ crossed, then shook​⁠‌ her head firmly,⁠ as if trying‌‌‍ to shake off‍⁠ that ominous sensation.⁠​​

After‌ that, she turned‌‍ her gaze back​‌ to the land⁠ where the academy‍‍ was being built⁠ in the Duplain‌⁠ territory.

The​ scale of the‍‍​ project was such‍⁠‍ that simply walking‌ through it would‌‍⁠ take quite some​ time.

“To​ raise a construction​ of this size​‍⁠ in such a short period… I had heard that⁠ the Duplain family‍‍⁠ was faltering, but‍‍ it seems that⁠⁠​ is already behind‍‍⁠ them. When the⁠ family members are​ capable, any house‌‌ can stand back⁠⁠ up.”

“…The‌ one leading this‍‌‍ project is not⁠​ a family member.”‍‌‍

“…?”‌

“Well,⁠⁠ it’s Miss Aiselin⁠⁠ who is directing‌ it.”

Lately,​⁠ whenever practical work⁠​‌ came up, Aiselin‍⁠ was always the‍⁠ first to throw​ herself into it​​‍ with shining eyes,‌​ organizing everything and‌ establishing systems.

In‌‍‍ truth, all Dereck​‌​ did regarding the‍​ construction of the‍‍ academy was check​ from time to‌‍ time whether everything‌‌‍ was proceeding smoothly.⁠

Even‌‍‌ he sometimes wondered⁠⁠⁠ if it was‌‍ really fine for‌ things to be​​‌ that way.

Every​⁠ time he tried‌​⁠ to get more⁠‌‌ involved, Aiselin would‍ panic and stop‌‌ him, leaving him‌ no way to‌‍‌ insist.

‘Dereck,​⁠ you already have⁠ mountains of things‌​ to do! You⁠⁠​ can’t take on⁠​ practical work too!‍‌ Don’t worry, I’ll‍‌‌ handle everything.’

She​ would say that​‍ with sparkling eyes,‌ as if afraid‌​​ someone might take​⁠ her work away.‍

Meanwhile,⁠ Dereck could not‌‌​ help worrying that‌⁠‍ she might eventually‍​‌ collapse from overwork.​​

“Just‌ as the rumors⁠‌‌ say, Miss Aiselin‌ truly is versatile⁠ and thoughtful.”

Katia,⁠‍ on the other⁠‌ hand, smiled with​‌ clear satisfaction.

Noble⁠​‍ ladies often cultivated⁠‌ elegance and education,‌⁠​ but they frequently‍​ became naive, detached⁠‍​ from reality, or‍ excessively arrogant.

Knowing​ that Aiselin took​‌ charge even of​ such demanding and‌​​ complex tasks further⁠⁠‌ enhanced Katia’s good‍‍‍ impression of her.​

Dereck⁠⁠‌ himself had nothing⁠‍ to object to;⁠⁠‍ even trying to‌ find faults, Aiselin‌​⁠ was practically flawless.‌‌

“Then​⁠⁠ Miss Aiselin must⁠ be supervising this‍​ place. I’ve heard‍ that in Ebelstein’s⁠‌‍ social circles, simply​⁠⁠ by walking, she​‍ fills the air‌‌ with a floral⁠‍‌ fragrance, and that​‌ sitting beside her‍⁠⁠ elevates anyone’s prestige.‍‌ I worry that​‍ this old master‍‍ might end up‌‌ being a nuisance.‌‌⁠ Is my attire​ all right?”

“You​ don’t need to⁠​‌ worry so much,‌‍‌ Master. Miss Aiselin‍‌ doesn’t judge people​⁠‍ by such things.”⁠

“Even‍⁠⁠ so… it’s not⁠​​ easy to approach⁠ a treasure of‍​ the Rose Hall‍‌ so casually, as‌‌‌ delicate as a flower. If there’s​ time, I should‌​ check my outfit‍​ once more…”

At​ that moment—

Rumble!‌ Rumble!

A thunderous sound echoed‌‍ from the construction​ site.

Dereck,⁠​​ Katia, and Freya⁠⁠​ all flinched and‍ quickly headed toward‌ the source of‌ the noise.

Rumble…‌ whoosh…

Amid‌​‍ the cloud of⁠ dust rising into⁠‍‌ the sky, fragments⁠‍ of rock could‍⁠ be seen scattered⁠ about.

Seeing​ that the workers​ and family members​⁠ remained calm, it​ seemed nothing serious​ had happened.

Most‌‌ likely, during the⁠​ foundation work, massive⁠⁠​ blocks of stone‍⁠ had been uncovered‍⁠ and broken apart‍ to secure space.‌‌​

Given‌⁠ the amount of⁠​ dust, the scale⁠​ was considerable, but⁠ if the base⁠‍‌ was broken properly,‍‍⁠ the work could‍⁠ proceed quickly.

Dereck⁠‌ was about to‌‌ let out a sigh of relief‌‍ when—

“See?​‌‍ I was right,‍‌ Mr. Robin! Breaking‌‍ the lower base‍‌⁠ with pickaxes and⁠ then securing the‍​ area with defensive‌‌ magic is the⁠‌‍ most efficient method.⁠⁠ It’s something I adapted from a book by Mr.‌​ Ravens!”

“My‍⁠ goodness… Miss Aiselin,‌⁠​ I can’t compete‍‌ with you. I’ve​‌⁠ worked in construction‍ for years and​​ I’ve never seen⁠⁠‌ anything like this.⁠ Using magic definitely​‍ increases efficiency tremendously.”⁠

“Good,​​ then all that’s⁠​‍ left is to​⁠‍ excavate the rest‌ with pickaxes and‌ the foundation will⁠ be complete. Let’s‍⁠​ start from the‌ east side.”

Amid​ the dust, a young woman shook​ out her clothes​ while exchanging opinions​​‌ with battle-hardened workers.‌‍⁠

She‍ carried a heavy⁠ pickaxe resting on​ her shoulder and​⁠‌ smiled with dazzling⁠ freshness.

Seeing‌ her wipe the⁠ dust from her​ cheeks while wearing‍​ a frilled dress‌​‍ was strangely surreal.‌‍

From​ her eyes, full⁠‌⁠ of life, starlight‌‍ itself seemed to​ spill out.

Then​ the young woman’s‍ gaze met Dereck’s.⁠

“Oh!‍ Dereck! You’re here!‍ As you can‌⁠​ see, the foundation‍⁠ of the auditorium​​⁠ is al—”

Aiselin,‍⁠ who had greeted⁠‌‌ him with obvious⁠‍​ delight, gradually let​⁠ her voice trail‍⁠ off as she​ noticed the guests‍​ accompanying him.

At‍ first, she thought‍​ they were ordinary‌⁠ visitors, but the‍ more she examined‌⁠ their appearances, the‍⁠‍ more familiar they​‍ seemed.

They⁠‍⁠ were people Dereck​⁠ had spoken to‌‌⁠ her about before.⁠‌

“…”⁠‍⁠

Clink.‌⁠‍

Aiselin‍ dropped the pickaxe,‍ her face completely​‌​ stiff, as if⁠​ she had lost​​‌ everything.

“Ah…‌​ u-um… it seems‌ we have guests…”‌

Though​‍​ she had gone‍ pale with nervousness,⁠ her reflexive attempt‌‍ to adopt a composed posture was⁠ almost admirable.

However,‌⁠ at this point,⁠‍ trying to appear‌ elegant no longer‌ made much sense…‌‌⁠

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