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Noble Lady Reformation Guide Chapter 33: Star 3 (3)

Chapter 33: Star 3 (3)

What‌​ is life?

Drest​‌‌ took a long​​ time to answer​ that question.

He​ was born the‍‍ son of a tenant farmer in⁠ the central part​​ of the empire,​​ in the Zebulon‍‍​ Region.

As‌ a child, he‌ played in the‍ mountains and fields,⁠ learned to plow⁠​⁠ as he grew,​‌ cultivated the land,‍ harvested, and during⁠⁠ times of scarcity,⁠ hunted in the​‍⁠ wild to fill​ his stomach.

His⁠ family was poor‍ but harmonious, without⁠‍ ambition, dreaming only​⁠ of finding a good partner, a decent piece of‌​ land, and taking‌‍ pride in owning⁠⁠⁠ a vast farm⁠​‍ and a complete​ home.

He⁠​‌ was nothing more‍ than a young‌ tenant farmer without⁠‍ greed, whose sole⁠‍​ aim was to‍‌ live an honest⁠⁠ and steady life.​‍

However,⁠‌ heaven had granted⁠ him a gift.‌​⁠ In the depths‍⁠‌ of night, holding⁠‌⁠ his plow in‍​ the field and​ looking at the⁠​ starry sky, it‍⁠⁠ seemed as though⁠ the principles of‍ the heavens were‍⁠ captured in his‍‌ eyes.

The⁠ flowing magical energy⁠​‍ appeared like a turbulent river, a natural landscape, and​ the spark of​⁠ magic at his⁠ fingertips felt like‌ an extension of‍‌​ his body.

He⁠ learned magic—not out⁠⁠​ of ambition or‍‌ devotion to the⁠ magical path, but‌ simply because he⁠‍‌ could.

Seeing⁠​⁠ city mages cast‌‌⁠ spells and feeling‍ the magical flow⁠‍​ in nature, he‍ developed a unique​‍⁠ style of magic.‌ He could predict‌⁠​ when the wind⁠​ would blow and‌​ seemed to sense⁠ when rain would‍⁠⁠ come.

While​ walking through the‌⁠‌ forest, the whisper‍‍​ of each leaf⁠‍ spoke to his‍⁠ ear, and every​‍ movement seemed entirely‍ understandable. He would⁠​‌ aim his bow‍ where wild animals​‌ would land and‌‍‌ avoid places where‍‌‍ stones might fall.⁠⁠

He​‌ was a mage‍⁠‍ born of the⁠‍​ ordinary.

By⁠ the time he‌⁠‍ reached adulthood, he⁠​​ had achieved 2-star‌​⁠ status, and when​ his beard grew​ and he started‌‍​ a family, he‍‌ reached 3 stars.​ In a small‍‌ village at the‌‍ edge of his​⁠‍ territory, he became⁠ a heroic figure,‍‍ and his entire‍​​ family respected him‌⁠ as their head.​

His⁠⁠‍ wife, the daughter‌⁠‌ of a miller,‌ was kind and⁠​ beautiful, always caring​ for him, and​‍ his two lovely​​ daughters were always⁠ proud of their‍ father’s magical feats.⁠⁠

He‌ had an epiphany.⁠‍

If‌‍‍ the first act⁠ of his life‍‍ was that of⁠ a tenant farmer,​‍ the second act​​ was that of‍​ a Mage. With​‍​ that realization, he‌ deepened his magical​‌​ achievements, studying spellbooks‍⁠⁠ brought from the‍‍ city day and‌‌ night, perfecting and⁠‍⁠ developing many exploration⁠⁠ spells, making them‌ his own.

Before⁠⁠⁠ he realized it,⁠‌‍ no ordinary mage​‌ could keep up‌​ with him. Could​​​ he reach the⁠​​ realm of 4-star⁠‌‍ magic before the⁠‍ age of forty?‌‍⁠ Could the second⁠‍ act of his‍⁠⁠ life shine even⁠‌ brighter? With that‍ thought, he devoted​⁠ himself even more‌ to both magic⁠‍​ and farming in​‍ that humble village.⁠​

And‌ then, his life⁠‍‍ entered a third‍ act: the life​ of a vengeful⁠ spirit. The entire​‌ world paid homage‍ to him for‌⁠ reaching 3-star status.‌⁠​ Famous nobles expressed​ amazement that a commoner mage could‌​‍ achieve such a state, and among‌⁠​ ordinary mages, he⁠⁠​ became nearly a spiritual pillar.

Rumors‍​ of Drest, the​⁠ seeker mage of‍ Count Zebulon, reached‌​ Ebelstain. Even as‌ a commoner, he‍‌⁠ became living proof⁠​ that someone could‍ reach the realm⁠‍ of a high-level‍‌ mage.

All​⁠ sorts of mages‍ began arriving at‌‌ his village, seeking‍ his teaching. Most​‍​ were absorbed in‌​ the study of​​ magic, and chatting‍ with them was⁠ a joy. However,‌⁠ some spoke of⁠⁠ more than magic.‍‌‍ They held resentment⁠​ toward the blooded​‍ nobles who wielded‍‌ magic as a privilege and ruled​ the world.

There​‍ were those from‌​​ humble origins, mages‌ with venomous tempers,⁠​⁠ shouting that the⁠​​ world needed to​ change.

The‍ following year, they​ were beheaded in⁠​⁠ the city square.‌⁠‌ Apparently, they had​ been caught trying‍‌⁠ to assassinate Count⁠‍ Zebulon. It was​​ an unpleasant end.‍‍ Still, that human⁠ temperament would occasionally⁠‌‌ reappear.

To⁠​​ them, the existence‌‍‌ of Drest—a commoner‍ who dared to⁠​ reach the 4-star‌​ magical realm—was not​‌ a messiah. They‌⁠ praised him, saw‌​ him as living⁠​ proof, and held​⁠⁠ deep desires to‌⁠ change the world.‍⁠

Drest‌ had no interest‌​ in such a revolution. Though he⁠⁠‍ belonged to the​⁠ ranks of high-level​‍​ mages, his essential​‌ nature hadn’t changed‍ much from his‍‍ days as a tenant farmer. What‌ he sought was​ personal achievement, not‍‌⁠ a transformation of‌⁠​ the world.

He​ lived in the⁠​‌ hope of reaching⁠‌​ a higher realm⁠‌​ and, beyond that,‌‍⁠ to provide for‌ his wife and⁠‌‌ daughters. That was⁠‍‌ the extent of‌‍ his aspirations. And⁠⁠‍ the following year,‍⁠‍ Count Zebulon ordered‍‌​ the execution of‌ Drest’s entire family.⁠⁠ All the revolutionaries⁠​ believed in Drest‌ as their savior.‍ As he gradually⁠​​ surpassed the 4-star⁠‍​ level, their numbers​⁠ surely grew.

The‌‌‌ Count wanted to‍ eradicate all seeds‍⁠ of rebellion. Drest‍​⁠ might not lead‌‌‍ the revolution, but⁠‍ he was its‍ catalyst.

He‍​​ was accused of⁠ many crimes. Heinous‍⁠ sins he had‍ never committed tarnished‌ his honor. Ironically,‍⁠⁠ the only ones‍ who understood it​‍‌ was all defamation‌ were the very​ revolutionaries who had⁠​‍ placed him in‌ that position.

One⁠ day, upon returning‍​‍ home, he found‍‌‍ his house soaked⁠ in blood. His⁠‍ wife’s corpse hung‌ on the wall.‌‌ His two daughters​‍ had been massacred,​⁠⁠ their bodies lying​‍ on the floor,‌⁠ drenched in blood.⁠

The⁠ house was set‌‌​ ablaze, and a massive bonfire cast⁠ a red glow​⁠‌ into the night‍​ sky. The blood‌ of villagers who‍ once shared bonds‍ with him flowed‍‍⁠ like a river.⁠‍ Charred bundles rolled‌​ across the ground,​‍ occasionally flaring with‍ embers. It was​‌ the scene of⁠‌ everything he knew⁠‍ in his village​​ turning to ashes⁠‌‌ and vanishing. The‌ faces of the​⁠ soldiers who set‌ the fire gleamed​⁠ with joy.

The​⁠ revolutionaries whispered in⁠​ Drest’s ear: “This‍​‍ is the work‌‍ of the nobles.”⁠​

Their​ urging turned Drest‍‍‍ into a vengeful​‌‍ spirit born from‌​ hell. Years passed,‌⁠​ and after many⁠​ small battles and‍​ chases, he infiltrated⁠‌‍ the mansion and⁠‍‍ nearly killed Count⁠‍​ Zebulon.

But​​‌ he could not‌⁠‍ bring himself to⁠​ kill the Count.‍ In the burning‍⁠​ house, the Count‍‌​ trembled in fear,‌ clutching his daughters,‍⁠‌ pleading for his‍​ life with tears.​‌ Drest’s eyes, locked‌ onto the Count’s⁠ tearful pleas for‌‌‌ his daughters’ lives,‌​​ still burned with‍ vengeance. Revenge was‌‌ futile. What remained​‍ after it was⁠‌‍ only hatred and⁠‍​ a new emptiness.​​

It‌‍ wasn’t that he‍​ didn’t understand this.‍‌‌ But it had‌ to be done.​⁠‍ Even if it‍​‍ was hollow and‌‌ meaningless, it was‍ something to reflect​​ on after the⁠ act. He could‍⁠⁠ not live the​⁠ rest of his‍‍‌ life consumed by​ a burning thirst‍​‌ for vengeance.

The​ cycle of hatred​​ had to be⁠ broken at some​‍‍ point, but it​​ didn’t have to‌‌ start with him.‍‍​ In the moment⁠‌ when his killing‌⁠‍ magic surged, he​ recalled his innocent‍⁠‌ children upon seeing​​ the terrified daughters⁠ of the Count.⁠‌​ They were the‍ image of innocence.⁠‌⁠ Just as his​⁠‍ daughters had died​⁠ in vain, these⁠‍​ children were innocent⁠ too.

Drest‌ closed his eyes⁠ and reflected, then‌‍ severed one of​‍ Count Zebulon’s eyes,‌‌ his tongue, and‌ the tendons of​⁠ both legs. The‌ Count writhed in‌​‌ pain, bleeding. Leaving‍ him to live​ a crippled life,⁠⁠ Drest departed from​⁠ the mansion.

Thus,‍ he became a public enemy of‍‌‌ the aristocracy. For⁠​‍ more than a decade, he lived‍ as a fugitive.​‌

Many‍⁠‍ mages who believed‌ in and followed‌ him tried to‍ protect him—and died.⁠ Even his closest‌⁠​ companions perished. Years⁠ passed, and though⁠‍ all others were‌‍​ captured, Drest himself⁠‍‍ remained elusive.

Neither⁠​‌ the high nobles‍ nor the 5-star‍ mages of the‌​‌ imperial palace could‌⁠ catch him. By‍ the time he⁠‍​ turned fifty, he⁠​ had surpassed the‌‍ 5-star threshold, his​⁠‌ revenge having forged​​‌ him into the⁠​ greatest seeker mage⁠‌ in the world.⁠‌​ Though age was‍ catching up with⁠​ him, and he​⁠ could no longer‌⁠ run fast, he‍‌ had no special⁠ transportation or hidden⁠‍⁠ paths known only​⁠‌ to him.

Yet​ with his calm‍‍⁠ gait, walking slowly‌‍ along the same​​‍ roads as everyone‌ else, no one​ could catch him.​ As if he​​​ knew exactly when‍ and where his⁠⁠ pursuers would appear,‌ the movements of‍‌‍ the old man‍⁠ drifting through the‍‌ world seemed ghostlike.⁠

Fifteen​⁠⁠ years passed, and​ by the time⁠​ he was over‌ sixty, the high⁠ nobles completely gave‍‍ up on capturing‌⁠‍ him. It had⁠⁠ been nearly thirty⁠​ years since he‍⁠ had mutilated Count‍ Zebulon. Time eroded‍ everything in this‌ world—including sin.

After‍⁠ three decades, the‌⁠ nobles had to⁠ admit: capturing Drest​ WolfTail was an‍ impossible task. If​⁠‍ they couldn’t fully⁠‌ suppress the seeds‍​ of revolution he‌⁠⁠ embodied, they had​‍ to at least​‌‍ draw him into​⁠ their sphere of​‌‌ influence. Only after⁠‍ so much time‌​ did they resign‌ themselves and decide‌​ to approach him⁠‍​ differently.

Years‍⁠​ later, the imperial​⁠ palace granted Sir‌ Drest the title​ of baronet. If​⁠ they couldn’t control‌ him, they would‍ make him a noble to protect⁠⁠ their authority. More‍​ than thirty-five years⁠ passed before he‌ was finally freed‌ from his pursuers,‍ as many stepped⁠​ forward to clear​​​ the misunderstandings surrounding⁠‌ him.

The‌ Emperor himself resolved​‌‍ the feud with​ the Zebulon prince’s⁠ family, offering numerous⁠​ honors, reparations, and‌ apologies, and in​⁠​ the end, he​ was free.

Aware,⁠⁠ he found that‍​‍ life had entered​ its twilight, and‍​ he had become‍ a true noble.​ Now, he was‌ no longer a commoner, but a noble. He had⁠ no land or​ grand mansion, but⁠​‍ he was accepted​⁠‌ as a noble​⁠ purely for his⁠​ magical excellence, completely​ apart from the‍⁠‍ common folk.

The‌ commoners no longer‍⁠ saw him as‍ someone who would‌ overthrow the nobility.⁠ He had become‍ a noble solely‍​ through magical talent,⁠ making many commoners‍ believe that if​‌‍ they lived diligently,​​ they too might⁠ one day receive⁠ such wealth.

Drest‍​ didn’t care about‍​ such public perceptions.‍ At this point,‌‍​ everything in life‌​ had become empty​‌⁠ to him. And‍‌ to a certain​ extent, he wasn’t⁠‌⁠ wrong. He was,‌‌⁠ indeed, the only​​ one who had⁠‍​ destroyed the privilege‌ of the nobility‍​ through pure magical​ talent alone.

He⁠ had reached the⁠‍ realm of a six-star mage, becoming​⁠ one of the​‌ most famous mages‍⁠ in the world,⁠‌ though society only‍​ knew him as‍‌ a four-star mage.‌ He had no​⁠ proper faction, but​​ rumors described him​ living in luxury.​⁠​

He​⁠ harbored no ambition,⁠ yet to others,⁠⁠‌ he was seen‌ as an ambitious​‍ common mage. Those​​ who followed him‍‍ founded an academy⁠ in his name,‍⁠‍ and he occasionally⁠‍ supported them, but‌‍‌ whenever he could,‍ he wandered the⁠ world.

He​‍⁠ climbed high mountains‍⁠‍ to gaze down‌ at the world⁠‍⁠ below and entered⁠⁠‌ the deepest caves‍⁠ to surrender to‌‍​ the darkness.

Living‌ a life without‍ family or friends,​ adrift, he soon⁠⁠ turned eighty, then⁠ ninety.

When‍ he looked down​‌ upon the world,‍‌‍ everything had changed.‌​ The old man‍‍ looked up at​‌‌ the high sky.⁠​​ Though many years​‍ had passed, the​ sun, moon, and‌​ stars remained in⁠ their places. It⁠‍​ had been a turbulent journey, but‌​‍ everything in the‌⁠​ heavens always seemed‌​ unchanged.

Walking‍‌ quietly, the old‍ man suddenly looked‍‌ up at the‍​ sky and murmured:‌

“Yes.⁠ This is life.”‍

He‌​ had been the​‍‌ beloved only son​‌‌ of a father,‍‍ the firm head‍‌‌ of a household,​ and a bloodthirsty‌ avenger. A hermit​​⁠ consumed by emptiness,​​​ a spiritual pillar‌‌ of the academy,⁠‍‌ an idol to⁠ some commoners, and​‌‍ an enemy to⁠⁠ some nobles.

And​​‍ at times, he‌⁠ was someone’s companion,‌ and at others,‌ someone’s foe.

As‌‌⁠ his life entered⁠‌ its twilight, few⁠ feelings remained.

“After‍ all, there’s not​ much to do.”⁠⁠

This‌​ is life.

Only‍‌ at life’s end​‌‍ did the old​​⁠ man realize it.‌‌⁠ He had run⁠​​ as if pursued,‍‌ and at times‌‍ had pressed forward​⁠ without thinking…

But​‌⁠ in the end,​​ this too was⁠‌ life.

“Hmm,​ your magical talent‌​ is too ambiguous.”‍​

In‌​ the southwest of​ the empire, wandering⁠ spirits roamed. Dereck‍‌​ might not know‍ the rumors among‍ the high nobles,‍⁠‌ but at least⁠‌⁠ the opinion that‌⁠ the old man‌⁠ with the ring‍ seemed like a ghost was unanimous.⁠

The⁠‌ old man who⁠ left the tavern​​‌ with Dereck walked‍‌‌ through the streets,​‍‌ bathed in the‌‍​ air of dawn,​ as if floating.⁠‌‍

Following⁠⁠​ him, Drest evaluated⁠​‌ Dereck’s magical talent‍​ with a hoarse‍‍‍ yet faint voice.​

“Ambiguous?”‌‍

“Yes.”⁠

No⁠ one in Dereck’s⁠​‍ life had ever⁠‌ described his magical⁠‌‍ talent as ambiguous.​‌

He​​ had reached two-star​‍ status at fourteen⁠⁠‍ and was aiming‍‍ for three-star at⁠ seventeen.

He⁠‌ might even achieve​ magical feats faster‌‍‌ than Drest himself.⁠ Dereck’s magical talent‍ was extraordinary.

Yet‍ Drest called it⁠‌ ambiguous. To him,‌​ it looked like‌‍‌ a distant realm.‍​‍

“If⁠⁠ you dream of‍‌ reaching a high‍ realm as a common mage, the⁠ ordinary is not‍ a good sign‌​‍ in the end.”⁠‍​

“…”‌​⁠

“If‌ you seek a path, you will​‌⁠ be overwhelmed.”

Dereck​‌‍ debated internally how‌‍‍ to respond. Honestly,​ he thought his⁠ current level was​ exceptional.

“There⁠​ will be great‌​ chaos in the​‌ west of the⁠‍ empire. To survive,⁠‌ you must become‌⁠‍ more extraordinary.”

“…”⁠​‌

They​ walked through dark,​⁠ impoverished alleys at​ night, and finally,‍ while straightening his‌‌ cloak, Drest turned⁠⁠‍ around.

In⁠​​ a place shrouded‌‍ in darkness, the​ cold gaze of​​ the honorable mage​‌‌ gleamed faintly.

“Combat‌⁠ magic will protect⁠‌ you from various⁠​ anomalies, and chaos‍‌ magic will create‍​ countless variables in‍‌⁠ diverse situations. But‌‍ to properly wield⁠​ such magic, one⁠ must also know‍​​ how to obtain‌‍‌ correct information about⁠‍​ the situation and‌‍ environment.”

Drest’s​​‌ thin hand sliced⁠ through the air,‌ then clenched tightly‌‌ with resolve.

The​​​ burst of magical​‍⁠ power seemed to‍ cover the sky.‌‍⁠ The intricate details​‍⁠ of various spells‌‌​ etched above were⁠‌ so fine that​ even Dereck, quite​⁠ skilled in multiple‌‍​ magical fields, couldn’t⁠ help but open‍⁠‍ his eyes in⁠ awe.

Staring⁠​‍ at the glowing‍ magical formulas decorating‍‌ the dark night‌‌‌ streets, Dereck’s eyes‌⁠‌ were fully captivated,‍ shining with fascination.⁠‌

The‍‍ series of exploration‌ spells revealed were‌ on a completely‌​​ different trajectory from⁠‍‌ anything Dereck had⁠​‌ ever experienced.

The‌ grand spectacle of⁠ magical power looked‍ like a sea‌‌ chart, showing the⁠‍ path to a distant golden realm.⁠‍‌

***​‍​

The‍‍‍ next day,

At⁠‍‍ the ‘Tears of‌⁠‌ Beldern’ tavern

From‍⁠ the morning, Jayden⁠ was busy with‌⁠‍ the stack of⁠‍⁠ letters arriving.

Though‍ receiving job requests‍​ was routine, today⁠​⁠ was special because⁠ many had come.‍‍‍

‘I‌⁠ didn’t expect to⁠‌‍ get letters from‍​ the Beltus, Belmierd,‍ and Duplain families​⁠ all at once.​ It’s true—life is‌ full of surprises.’‍​‍

The​⁠‌ reputation of the‍‌‌ Beldern Mercenary Group‍ had grown rapidly​⁠​ since its founding.​⁠

Thanks‍ to Dereck’s contributions,⁠‌ Jayden’s hard work,‍ and the strength‍‌​ of the other‌‌‍ members.

Still,⁠⁠ they weren’t famous‌‍⁠ enough to receive‌ simultaneous requests from​ the three most‌​ prominent families in‌ the western empire.‌​‌ Of course, only‌​‌ one person was⁠​ being sought in⁠‌⁠ those letters.

Jayden‍ pondered how to⁠​ handle the situation.‍

– Clink!

“Oh,‌​ Dereck!”

When⁠‍ Dereck boldly entered⁠ the tavern, Jayden‌⁠‌ greeted him cheerfully.‌‍‍

There‍ were many lucrative‌​‍ commissions. Just as​​ he was about‌‌‌ to bring them‍‍‍ up, Dereck grabbed‌​⁠ a bag of​‌‍ food from the‍ corner of the⁠​‌ bar table, left‌ a silver coin,⁠‌‌ and said urgently:‌

“Reject​ all commissions starting​ today. The other​⁠‍ members are enough,‌​ right? It’s time⁠‌ I take a break.”

“…What?”​⁠‌

Jayden⁠​​ knew Dereck took‍​​ breaks regularly, but‍‌ this time the​‌⁠ clients were too‌​​ influential.

Such‍‍⁠ requests couldn’t be​‍‌ easily declined. Just​‍ as Jayden was‍ about to explain,⁠ Dereck, who seemed​ in a hurry,‌‍ said:

“I’m​ leaving now. There’s‍ an urgent matter⁠ I must attend‌​⁠ to.”

It⁠‌ was rare to‍‌‍ see Dereck, usually⁠​​ calm, acting as​‍ if fire was‍‌ on his heels.‌‍‍

The‌ strange anticipation in‌​ his eyes seemed‌ to sparkle with‍‍​ joy—like fulfilling a long-cherished ideal. The⁠ difference from his​⁠⁠ usual demeanor was‌​ unsettling.

Jayden‍⁠‍ was about to​⁠‍ explain the difficulty⁠⁠⁠ of rejecting those‌⁠⁠ commissions, but Dereck‍⁠ had already left‍⁠ the tavern with⁠‌ a light step.⁠​‍

To‍ a stranger, it‍​ might not have‍‌‌ seemed unusual, but⁠‌​ Jayden, who knew​ Dereck well, noticed.⁠⁠⁠ Dereck was extremely⁠‌ excited.

He‍‌ had no intention​‌ of teaching anyone​⁠⁠ at that moment.⁠​

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