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Noble Lady Reformation Guide Chapter 27: Ellen (2)

Chapter 27: Ellen (2)

“Since⁠‌ this is a formal magical duel,⁠‍​ there are more‌ restrictions than expected.‍​ The most important‌ thing is that,​‌ with so many‍‌⁠ nobles watching, we​⁠⁠ must at least​⁠ maintain our dignity.”‍‌‌

Dereck​​​ always wore a serious expression.

That⁠⁠‌ calm demeanor was‌ contagious. Ellen felt‌⁠‌ ashamed of her​‍⁠ emotional outburst a moment ago. No⁠​‌ matter how cornered‌​⁠ one might be—physically‌ or mentally—a noble‍​‌ lady was always‍‌ expected to maintain‌‍⁠ composure and dignity.⁠‌
Yet Dereck seemed​ unshaken.

“Still…‌ as much as‌ I hate to‍ admit it, Lady⁠ Aiselin is superior​⁠ to me.”

“Not‍ in every way.‍‍‍ You just need⁠​‍ to find one‌‌​ area where you,⁠ Lady Ellen, excel.”‍⁠‍

Dereck​‌ spoke with certainty,‍ without a hint‍​⁠ of doubt or​​ anxiety.

It‌‌ was as if‌ he had anticipated​​‍ Ellen’s emotional reaction.​ To her, Dereck,​⁠​ a commoner, now‌⁠‌ seemed like a seasoned veteran.

“All‌‌‌ the extreme magical‍‌ training up until‍​ now wasn’t for‌‌‌ nothing. It was⁠ the foundation needed‍ to defeat Lady​‍​ Aiselin. Now we‌‍‍ move on to‌‌ the core process.”⁠‌

“What?​ You’ve got something‍ else planned?”

“…Didn’t‍‌ I say I needed to test‌‍ your resolve?”

When‍ Dereck looked at‌‍⁠ Ellen with deeper⁠ seriousness, she swallowed​⁠ hard.

Despite‍ Ellen’s reaction, Dereck​​ spoke calmly.

“From​‌‍ now on, it‍⁠ will be real⁠ hell. So pay‌‌ close attention.”

If‍‌​ what was coming⁠ now was truly​​ hell, then what​ had everything before⁠‍ been?

Ellen⁠​ began to see​ the boy in⁠​ front of her‌ as a lion⁠​‌ wielding a scythe.‍‌

But​‍ after making such​‌‌ a fuss, she⁠​ couldn’t back down‍‌ now.

***‍

Riding​‍​ across the vast‌‌⁠ grasslands of Prince⁠ Belmiard’s lands, one‌‌‌ could easily see‌ farmers working in⁠⁠‍ the fields from​‍ early morning. The​ wheat fields, now⁠‌ in the harvest‍ season, stretched across‌​⁠ the plains.

Crossing​‍‍ the Boleron Plains,​⁠ the largest granary‌ on the western‌​​ continent, a large‌‌ fortress finally came⁠‌‍ into view on​‍ the horizon. As‌​‌ it managed the​​ entire southwestern coastal⁠‌ border, this impressive‍ military fortress was‌ well-maintained.

Clip-clop,⁠​ clip-clop.

Felmier​‌‍ had been riding‌ for some time.​‌

Since‌‌ the mercenary would‍‌ be handling magic‍‍‍ instruction for now,‌‍ there was no‌‍‍ role for him.​​

It‍​‍ was just a brief detour. Given​‌⁠ the circumstances, he⁠​‌ had stopped by​⁠ the Belmiard estate‍​ to finish up‌ some old business‌ and report the⁠​ current situation to‍ the count.

Unlike‍‌‌ the calm atmosphere⁠⁠⁠ in the farmlands,⁠​⁠ things grew somber‍‍ as he approached​ the fortress.

Along‌⁠ the ridge following‌ the southern coast,‌ there were watchtowers​‌⁠ on guard. As​‍​ the massive mountain​​​ ranges came into‍ view, flags lined‍⁠‍ the path and‌⁠‍ soldiers patrolled, their⁠‌‍ weapons loosely slung.‌

Riding​‌‍ into the fortress‌​ entrance, the guards‍‌‍ halted their attempt⁠‌​ to stop him.⁠

Neigh!‌​

Heading⁠‍​ up to the‍‌ tower at the⁠‍⁠ heart of the‌‍⁠ fortress, a man‌ stood before soldiers‌‍‌ busy with parade‍ drills for the‌​‌ festival.

He‌⁠ looked quite young​ for his position.​​​ Fine lines hinted⁠​‌ at the years‍‍​ he had lived,‌‍‍ but his eyes​ still shone with‌⁠​ vitality, far more‌⁠ than other nobles‍​ in this world.​ His broad shoulders⁠‌ and sturdy frame‌⁠‌ testified to his⁠​​ years of active‍ service.

He‌ was Tristan Anelt‍​‍ Belmiard, Count of‌​ these lands.

Even‍​‍ the heads of‌‌‍ noble houses in​‌‌ the capital would⁠​ bow and show⁠‌ respect before this‍‌ frontier noble, a man of great​​ renown in the‌ Western Empire.

“Oh,‌ Felmier! Back from​​⁠ Ebelstain already?”

“I​‍‌ see you’re well,⁠‌ Count. I thought‌‍‍ you’d be at​ the noble mansion,‍⁠ not here at‌‌ the fortress.”

“Are‌‍ you inviting me‍⁠‍ to lounge in‌‍‌ some corner with⁠‌‍ a quill? A man should train⁠‌‍ his body now‍⁠ and then.”

Count‌‍⁠ Belmiard was known‌‌ for his generous‍‌⁠ nature and care‌‍‍ for his subordinates,​ but as a former soldier, he‌‌ also carried innate‌​‌ charisma. He was‍ the type of​‍‍ man who stood⁠‌ firm and faced‌‌ his enemies with‍ resolve.

“It’s​ been a long​‌​ time since I saw my treasure,⁠‌​ Ellen. When she’s‍​ near me, laughter‌ is never far.​ How is she‌‌​ doing in Ebelstain?”‍

“Quite‍ well. She’s faced⁠​ many challenges lately⁠ and is focusing​ more on her‍ magic training.”

Felmier​‌ hesitated briefly, choosing‌ not to report‍ on the mercenary‌‍⁠ named Dereck just⁠‌​ yet. He decided‍ to keep it​​‌ a secret for‍‌​ now.

He⁠⁠ couldn’t predict how‌⁠​ the Count would‍ react upon hearing​ that his daughter​​⁠ Ellen was learning​​‌ magic from a mere mercenary. Felmier‌‌⁠ viewed Ellen’s involvement‌​ with Dereck as​​ a temporary diversion.‌​‍

After‍ all, Ellen had‍ hired the mercenary⁠⁠‍ mostly out of​‌⁠ competitive spirit against⁠⁠​ Aiselin. Falling behind​​ a commoner in‌ magical training would⁠ be a blow⁠⁠ to her pride.⁠‌

“That’s‌​​ good to hear.‍‌​ I have business‌⁠ in Ebelstain regarding‍‍⁠ tariffs on the‍ southwestern trade route.⁠‌ I was originally⁠ going to send⁠ a message via​‍ a senior official​‌​ at the noble‌ mansion, but with⁠​ you here, Felmier,⁠⁠​ there’s no need.”​​

“Really?”⁠‍‍

However,‌ unbeknownst to Felmier,‍ Count Belmiard was​‌ already preparing for​ a visit to‍‍ Ebelstain.

It‍⁠⁠ wasn’t unusual for‌ southwestern nobles to⁠ visit Ebelstain, but​​ such a sudden⁠​ trip was uncommon.⁠​

“Maybe​‍ I don’t need‌ to send a message at all.‍‌‌ Sometimes, surprising my‌‍ treasure Ellen with‍‍‌ a gift isn’t⁠⁠‍ a bad idea.⁠‍ No need to⁠​‍ announce it. Though​‍​ I do need⁠ to think about⁠​ what gift to⁠ bring.”

“Even​‍‌ so, maybe it’s‍ better to let‌ her know… Lady⁠‍​ Ellen would be​‍‍ delighted, I’m sure.”‍

“I​ also want to‍⁠ see how Ellen​⁠ is adjusting to‌ her life at‌⁠‍ the foreign mansion.⁠ A father’s worry⁠‌ is ever-present, isn’t⁠​‍ it?”

Count‍‍⁠ Belmiard had visited​‌ the noble district​​ of Ebelstain several‍ times. On the⁠⁠ surface, it appeared‍​ a charming paradise‌‍ for nobles, but‌ beneath it was⁠ fierce competition and⁠‍‌ mental warfare.

It‌⁠​ was hard not⁠ to worry about​ his daughter in⁠​ such a place.‌ He frequently sent​⁠‍ gifts, supplies, and‍‍ competent officials to​ assist her, but​⁠‍ a father’s heart‍‌ is never completely‍ satisfied with just​‌⁠ that.

Ellen,‍ who visited the⁠⁠​ noble mansion, always‍‍ seemed cheerful when‌​ recounting her days‍‍ in Ebelstain.

However,‌‌ Count Belmiard knew⁠​ full well that⁠ his daughter had‌ grown. It wasn’t​ impossible that she‌‍‌ was putting on‌⁠ a cheerful front​‌ to keep him⁠⁠⁠ from worrying about​‍ her life away⁠‌⁠ from home.

From‍‌‍ Count Belmiard’s perspective,⁠‍ worry was unavoidable.‍ He knew well⁠⁠‌ that, while Ellen⁠⁠⁠ had matured intellectually,‌‌ she still carried‌‍ many childlike traits⁠⁠⁠ emotionally.

If​⁠​ Duke Duplain was​ a strict and‌‌ thoughtful patriarch, Count‍ Belmiard was a generous yet direct⁠⁠ father. He was​‌ the kind of⁠​ man who wouldn’t‌‍ hesitate to rearrange⁠​ his schedule if⁠ it meant checking⁠​‌ on his daughter—and‌‍ was a fool‍ when it came‌ to matters concerning‍‍‍ her.

“Given​⁠‍ the circumstances, let’s⁠ move up the⁠‍⁠ schedule. You, Felmier,‌ will accompany me‌‌ to Ebelstain on⁠​ my departure day.”‌​‍

“…Will​​ that be all​‍ right?”

Felmier​‍ could only offer‌‌ a troubled expression.⁠​‍

***⁠‌​

“Time‌‍ is like an‍ arrow, Dereck.”

That’s⁠⁠​ how the letter‌‍ from his mentor,​ Katia, began.

Dereck‌ had always liked‍‌ the expression “time⁠‍‌ is like an‍ arrow.”

Like‌​​ an arrow loosed‌‌ from a bow‌​‍ flying straight, time‍​ too moves forward​ without ever turning⁠ back. And before​‌ you know it,‌‌ a day, a season, a year‍‍​ has passed—he felt‍‍‍ that phrase summed⁠ up his life‍‌ perfectly.

The⁠ feeling he had​⁠ while teaching Ellen‍ was quite similar.⁠​ Before he realized​‌‌ it, more than⁠ two weeks had‌​‍ gone by.

Dereck‌‌⁠ had promised to‍‍​ help Ellen win,‌‍ but in the‍ end, what mattered‌​ most was her​ own will. Whether​‌‌ she properly handled​‍ his lessons was​‍ something that remained‍⁠ to be seen.‌​

—Crack,‌ crack.

Leaning​‌‍ his head against‌‌ the swaying carriage⁠ wall, calmly reading‌‍‌ the letter, Dereck⁠‍ glanced at Ellen​‍ out of the⁠ corner of his​ eye.

It‍ wasn’t the noble‍ carriage she was‌ used to, but⁠ an old, dusty,‌‌‌ worn-out mercenary wagon.​⁠

Inside⁠​ that decrepit vehicle—a‍ place where a noble lady from​ a count’s household⁠‌ would normally never‌⁠‍ set foot—she lay,​​​ not in her‍ usual frilly dress,‍‌ but in simple,⁠‌ comfortable clothes under‍⁠‌ a cloak.

To‌ passersby, she would’ve‌⁠ looked so disheveled‍⁠ they might question⁠ if she were⁠⁠ truly nobility, lying⁠‍ there exhausted and‌ panting. In truth,⁠‌‌ her noble status​ was being kept⁠⁠​ secret.

Dereck‍‌‍ glanced at her‍ again, then returned‍ his gaze to⁠‌ the letter.

“It‌ seems it’s been‌‌ almost two years‍ since I left​ Ebelstain, and my⁠​‌ contact has been​ shamefully late. Since‍ arriving in Elvester’s‍ domain, I’ve been‍‍⁠ busy with work,​​‌ and only now‌⁠ do I feel⁠‍‌ a little relief.⁠⁠ Countess Freya, whom⁠ I instruct, has⁠‌ a greater learning‍ spirit than I expected, and it‌ seems I’ve spent‌‌ my time solely‌‍⁠ focused on teaching⁠ her magic.”

“Now⁠‌​ that I have⁠⁠‍ a bit of​ free time, I reflect and feel‌ that the days‌​ when I wandered‍ Ebelstain’s tavern-lined streets‍‌ teaching you magic‌‌​ felt more liberating.‍‍ I couldn’t live⁠​‍ as comfortably back⁠‌ then, but I could go wherever‍ I wanted.”

“You⁠‍‍ look like someone‍‍​ reading a love⁠ letter.”

“You’re‌⁠ awake?”

“What‌ do you mean?⁠ I’ve been awake​‌ this whole time.”⁠⁠‌

Ellen⁠⁠ tried to maintain⁠ her dignity but‌‌ couldn’t sit up.‌ It was understandable.⁠

For⁠​ the past two‌‌ weeks, Dereck had‌‌ taken her through‍‍ the labyrinth outside​‍⁠ Ebelstain. It wasn’t​ an experience a noble lady could⁠‌‍ easily endure.

Even⁠ veteran adventurers had‌ to thoroughly prepare⁠‌‌ to delve into​ the deeper sections⁠‌ of the labyrinth,⁠‍⁠ birthplace of demonic⁠‍ races.

Though‍ the area Dereck⁠ led her to⁠ wasn’t the deepest‌‍​ part, it was‍‍ enough to make​‌ Ellen feel a fear close to⁠ death.

Of‌​⁠ course, if there⁠ had been real​​ danger, Dereck wouldn’t⁠‍​ have taken the​​ risk. He brought⁠ Jayden, a mercenary​‍ more seasoned than‌‍‌ himself, and also⁠‌⁠ Pheline, just in‍⁠‍ case, to help‍​ them through. Dereck‍​⁠ could manage the⁠​‍ labyrinth’s entrance alone,‌​ but he didn’t⁠‍‌ take chances.

Even​ so, what Ellen‌‌‍ saw in those⁠ two weeks was‌⁠ nothing short of​​⁠ hell.

‘…’​​

In‍‍‌ reality, the method‍ for shaping Ellen‍ into a true⁠ combatant was fairly‌​ simple. It all‌‍‌ came down to‌‍‍ real battle experience.‌‍‌

What‌⁠‍ Dereck wanted to⁠​ instill in Ellen⁠ was the raw,‍‌ untamed reality of‍​ the battlefield—something that‍⁠ those bound by‍‌​ strict rules all‌‌‌ their lives would‍​ never experience.

Killing‌⁠ monsters that occasionally⁠‌‍ lurked near Ebelstain‍⁠​ was one thing,‌‌⁠ but entering the​ labyrinth and committing⁠‌ a massacre was‍⁠ something else entirely.‌

Blood-soaked‍⁠​ scenes, with axes​‍‍ and swords flying⁠ through the air.​⁠‍

No​⁠​ matter how many⁠ layers of protective​​ magic one wore⁠‍‍ before leaving home,⁠‍‌ witnessing the disgusting‌ brutality of such‍​⁠ scenes would make‍ anyone’s eyes tremble.‌⁠ This was a far cry from⁠​‍ Ellen’s personal safety.‌

What‌ Dereck ultimately wanted‍⁠ to cultivate was‌ Ellen’s “vision.”

More​​⁠ precisely, the breadth‍ of her perception.⁠‍⁠

The​​‍ significant difference Ellen‌​‌ had felt during⁠ her debate with‌​ Dereck had stemmed‍‌⁠ from that very‌‌ perception.

For‌‌‌ Dereck, who had​‍⁠ survived countless fierce‌ battles, this debating​ arena—so orderly, so⁠⁠⁠ concerned with dignity—was​ nothing more than‍ a playground for​ children playing in‍ the dirt.

Once‌‌​ someone experiences a broader world, they‍ often quickly master‍⁠‍ the basics of‍ more limited fields.‍

Someone‍‌​ who can run‌ 1000 meters will​‍⁠ certainly understand how⁠⁠ to run 100‌⁠ meters.

Of‍‍ course, there are​ slight nuances to⁠⁠ sprinting 100 meters,⁠‌⁠ but the foundational‌​ ability is already​⁠ mastered. That was​‍‌ the difference between‌⁠​ Dereck and Ellen.‍‍

Naturally,‍ mastering these seemingly‌​ basic skills wasn’t‍⁠‌ easy.

The​‌​ process of acquiring​ them wasn’t something⁠‌ a delicate noble​‌ lady could easily‌‍ endure.

That’s‍‌‌ why Dereck had​ asked and confirmed‍‌⁠ with Ellen repeatedly—if​ she was truly‌‍⁠ ready.

On‌ the first day,‌ Ellen vomited at⁠‍‍ the sight of‌‍⁠ the blood-stained labyrinth.​​​ She leaned against‌⁠ the wall, her‌⁠​ fingers trembling, then‌⁠ paled at the​ sight of pus‍ stuck to the⁠⁠ surface.

The‍​ same thing happened⁠‌ on the second​‍ and third days.‍‍⁠ For three full‍‍ days, she could‌⁠‌ do nothing.

For​‍‍ a noble lady‌‌⁠ who had lived​ in a grand​⁠‍ mansion filled with‍​ artistic antiques, walking⁠‍​ through scenes soaked‌​‍ in blood was‍ akin to hell‍ itself. It was‌​‌ like a form‍‍ of shock therapy.‌‌‍

Yet⁠‍​ Ellen didn’t give‍ up. By this⁠‍⁠ point, it seemed‌ like she couldn’t​​⁠ give up even​ if she wanted‍‍‌ to.

On‌‌ the fourth day,⁠ she gritted her​⁠ teeth and managed‍​ to cast a spell on a monster. On the‍⁠⁠ fifth day, she‍​ killed a monster‌ for the first​‌ time.

Ellen’s​ figure, gazing at‌⁠‍ the dark blue‌​‌ blood with trembling⁠⁠ hands, stood out.‌ Though a noble‌ lady, she had​ finally come to​ understand how even‍⁠⁠ the lowest mercenary⁠‍‌ killed monsters.

By‍‌⁠ the fifth and‍‌ sixth days, she‌​‍ started showing signs⁠​ of adapting, but‍⁠ on the seventh‌ day, when a giant minotaur appeared‌⁠​ in the labyrinth,​‌​ she had to​ swallow her dizzying​ tears once again.​​‍

Pheline,‌‍ seeing the noble​‌​ lady collapse like‌‍‍ that, held her​‌ side and laughed⁠‌ for a long‌​ time back at⁠‍⁠ the tavern. In‍ front of Ellen,‍ she pretended to​‍ be a mature‍ mercenary, but deep‌⁠⁠ down, she seemed‍⁠ to enjoy watching​‍​ nobility break.

Even‍ so, Ellen continued⁠‌ to persevere diligently.⁠‍‍ Every morning, she‍​​ waited for Dereck,‍⁠‍ put on her‍⁠⁠ cloak, and left‍ the mansion. Without​​ allowing servants to⁠​ accompany her, she‌⁠ blended into the‌⁠ streets around the‍​‌ taverns to learn‌‍ what a battlefield⁠ was really like.‍⁠

And‍‍ so, Ellen had‌⁠ become someone capable‍ of conquering the‌‍⁠ labyrinth’s entrance.

Of​ course, after fighting⁠‌​ all day, she‌‌‍ was understandably exhausted.​

“Lady⁠ Ellen, I brought‌ you some water.”​‌‌

“Tha-thank​​ you… You’re very‍ kind…”

Pheline,‍ sitting in a corner of the‌ carriage with a gentle smile, handed‍‌‍ her a cold⁠​ water flask, which​⁠‍ Ellen immediately took‍​ and drank from.​​‌

Was​⁠​ Pheline pleased to​ see Ellen working‍‍ so hard? She​​‌ laughed with a light “jo-jo.” To‍‍ a stranger, she‍⁠‌ might seem like​‍‌ a kindhearted girl,‌⁠‍ but Dereck, knowing‌‌‌ her true nature,⁠‍‌ could only shake⁠⁠‍ his head.

Dereck⁠​‌ looked back at‌​​ the letter again.‍

“How⁠ far has your‌‌ magical progress come?‌⁠ Sometimes I wonder‍‍⁠ if you’re still⁠ a student. No​‍ matter what anyone‍ says, you are⁠‍ the most talented‍⁠‍ mage I’ve ever⁠ seen. As a magic instructor, many‍‍‌ would dream of‍ a student like⁠‍‍ you.”

“Although‌ unlikely, have you⁠​ mastered high-level magic?⁠​‍ It might be‌​‍ excessive, but I believe you could.⁠‍ Countess Freya has⁠ recently become proficient‍‌⁠ in 1-star magic.⁠‌‌ Seeing her cheerful​ attitude reminds me​​‌ of your childhood​⁠⁠ and warms my​‌ heart.”

“If​​ we ever get⁠⁠‌ a chance to⁠​⁠ meet again, please⁠‌​ show me your‌​ wonders. If I happen to visit​ the western empire,​ I’ll be sure​‍​ to contact you.⁠ Your old mentor,‌​ Katia Flameheart.”

Mastery.⁠​‌ I, too, have‌‍‍ spent my life‌⁠ teaching others—just like​ you.

With‍‌‍ that silent monologue‍‌ in his heart,​‍​ Dereck quietly folded‌ the letter and‍‍ fell into contemplation.‍

Teaching​‌‌ and guiding someone‌​​ was a rewarding⁠⁠ task—and, surprisingly, one⁠​ that positively impacted‍⁠‍ Dereck’s own magical‌‌⁠ achievements.

Reviewing​​ what he already‍ knew was beneficial,‍​ and at times,‍ in his effort​​ to help a student’s magic mature,⁠ his own magic‌‍ grew more refined.⁠⁠

The​‍ 1-star spells, Ice⁠ Lance and Fire‌‍‌ Arrow, felt more‌​ sophisticated as he‌ taught Ellen, as‍ if he were⁠‌ searching for a more elegant way⁠ to use them.‍

Was​ teaching someone also‌ a way to⁠‍⁠ teach yourself?

That⁠​‍ unexpected realization helped⁠⁠‍ Dereck understand why‍​‌ magic instructors were‌​ so obsessed with‍⁠​ good students.

“Lady‌​ Ellen.”

Of​‌ course, this wasn’t‍⁠ the right moment⁠‍ for such gentle​‌ introspection.

“The‍ duel is in‌ two days.”

“…”‍​‍

“How‍ do you feel?”⁠‍

Lying⁠⁠ in the carriage,‌‍‍ Ellen silently stared‌‌‍ at the swaying⁠‍‌ ceiling before answering‍⁠ with difficulty.

“It’s‌‌⁠ true, like you‌ said, Dereck. I’ve​ had many extraordinary‍⁠​ experiences these past⁠​​ few days. I’ve​‌ trained non-stop, and‍ I feel my‍‍ magic has matured‍ more than ever.”⁠⁠‌

“…”⁠⁠‍

“Even​ so… I’m not‌ sure I can‌ win.”

Ellen‌​ couldn’t help but‌‌​ voice her doubt.​‌​

Of‌⁠⁠ course, Dereck had​⁠ rapidly improved her⁠‌⁠ magical mastery, but‍​ whether she was‍‍ skilled enough to⁠ defeat Aiselin was⁠ still uncertain.

At‍⁠‍ least among the⁠​⁠ noble ladies, no‍‌ one could be⁠ sure.

For​ now, all Ellen​‌⁠ could do was​‌⁠ fully trust Dereck.⁠ The duel was⁠​‌ approaching fast, and‌‌ Dereck was the​‌ one who understood‌⁠ her best.

Taking​ a deep breath‌‌‌ as she lay⁠‌‌ there, Ellen braced‌‌ herself. The duel​ with Lady Aiselin​ was at hand.​

Leaning⁠‍ against the carriage‍​⁠ wall, Dereck began​ to close his​‍ eyes, as if​‌ the world no‌⁠⁠ longer concerned him.‌‌

***‍⁠

“Lady​​ Aiselin, it’s time⁠⁠ for your watercolor⁠ lesson.”

The⁠ servant called politely​‍​ at the door‍​ of Aiselin’s private‌​ study.

But‌ there was no‌ response from inside.‌⁠​ A presence could‌ still be felt,⁠​ but the lack‌⁠⁠ of reply suggested‍⁠ she was deeply‍ focused.

After‍ hesitating for a moment, the servant‌⁠‌ decided to intrude,‌‌​ unable to delay‍​‌ Aiselin’s next appointment.​‍​

“Pardon‍⁠ me, I’m coming⁠‍ in.”

With‍‌ that, he opened‍‌‍ the old wooden‌ door, and as​ it creaked open,‌‌‍ the interior came‍ into view.

Inside,⁠‍ Aiselin stared blankly⁠‍​ into the sky,⁠⁠ murmuring a spell.⁠ An eerie aura⁠​ surrounded her.

The⁠‌‍ servant, who had‍ attended Aiselin since‌‌⁠ childhood, was left‍⁠ speechless, his voice‌​ caught in his​‍‍ throat.

The‍⁠⁠ room was filled‌⁠‍ with bluish magical‍ energy. Her jet-black‍‌‍ hair floated weightlessly.‌‍‍ Traces of magic⁠‍ shimmered in her​​⁠ glowing eyes, reflecting‌⁠ the dusk itself.​

The⁠ room was cluttered⁠ with thick books​‌​ from the Academy‍ of Ordered Magic.⁠‌ Quite unlike the⁠‍ usually pristine environment‍ of Lady Aiselin.⁠ She was completely‍​ absorbed in the‍​ magical tapestry unfolding⁠⁠​ around her.

Her‌⁠ gaze wasn’t fixed‍‌‍ on the ceiling‌⁠ but seemed focused‍⁠‍ far beyond.

It⁠ was the sky.‌ The sequence of⁠⁠ shining magic in​‍ the room resembled‌‌⁠ a starry night.‌⁠‍

Aiselin⁠‌⁠ was the epitome⁠​‌ of a model⁠‌ student, devouring the⁠ Academy’s magic books‍​⁠ to her heart’s‌‍ content.

Many‍‌ of the principles​​ and theories of​‍ Adelbert—the founder of‌ the Academy school​​ and the first‍ to define magical​​ hierarchy—lived and breathed⁠​​ in her mind.⁠⁠

She‍ had internalized them,⁠ reading them over‍‍ and over, until⁠‌ they became her‍​ own knowledge, now‌ flowing from her⁠​‍ fingertips.

It‌⁠ was said that‍​‌ Adelbert, the first​⁠ mage of the⁠ Ordered Academy, had‌‌ constructed the magical​ hierarchy by gazing​ at the Big‌‌⁠ Dipper in the‍⁠ sky. That was‌ the opening chapter⁠​⁠ in Adelbert’s biography⁠‍ that Aiselin had‌​ read in her‍‌‌ youth.

The‍‍⁠ structured magical system,‍​ organized by the⁠‍ stars, warded off⁠ chaos and emphasized⁠‌ the coherence of⁠ ordered theory. The⁠‍ spells he established‍⁠⁠ became the foundation‌ not just of⁠⁠‍ the Academy but​‍‍ of all magic.‌​⁠

Within‌ that established order,‍ the magical current‍​⁠ flowing through Aiselin’s​‌ eyes merged and‌⁠ expanded.

Born‍ of noble blood,⁠‍ gifted with exceptional‍​ talent, and relentlessly‍‍ building on her‍‍ efforts—her magic finally‌⁠‍ transformed into a Milky Way among​​‍ the stars.

—Whoosh!⁠‌

Suddenly,​⁠ the magic accumulated‍⁠‌ in her hands⁠ surged throughout the⁠‍⁠ room, and the⁠‍ sound of a grand orchestra began​⁠‍ to fill the‌‌ space. It was‌ Aiselin’s favorite symphony.⁠​

The‌​⁠ scene of a full orchestra playing​‌ in a small‌‍⁠ study would have‌​​ made anyone doubt⁠ their eyes.

But⁠⁠ the majestic sound​ continued for a while before… gradually‌⁠⁠ fading, like a mirage, and then​​ vanished into silence.‌‌​

The⁠ girl seemed strained‌‍‍ from using such⁠⁠ powerful magic. It⁠​​ was still a spell she couldn’t​‍​ fully control.

“Hah…​‍ Hah… I failed​‍ again.”

Aiselin’s​⁠‍ self-reproach echoed in‌ her clear voice,⁠‍⁠ now the only‌‍ sound left in‍⁠ the quiet room.‍​‌

The‍‌ servant, having witnessed​ the spectacle, couldn’t⁠ help but widen​‌‍ his eyes in⁠‍ astonishment.

What​⁠ she had just‍ conjured was the‌​ 2-star disorientation spell‌⁠​ Auditory Illusion. It​ was the same⁠‌ spell Dereck had‍ self-taught at the‌⁠ age of fourteen.​​

“Oh‍​ goodness, look at‌⁠ the time. I got carried away.⁠‍‌ It would be‌ rude to be‌⁠ late, so I must hurry.”

Only⁠ then did Aiselin‌ notice the servant’s‍ presence.

Quickly‍​‌ adjusting her dress,⁠‌‍ she rushed out‍‌ of the room,⁠⁠‌ and the servant⁠​‌ could do nothing‍​‌ but watch her‍​‍ in silence.

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