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Noble Lady Reformation Guide Chapter 52: Value (6)

Chapter 52: Value (6)

Most​‌​ mages are driven⁠⁠‌ by the desire⁠​‍ to become stronger.⁠​

This⁠‌​ is a field⁠ where progress can‍ be felt with​ every step, and‍⁠⁠ that sense of​ advancement is more​‌ exhilarating than any​⁠ pleasure, often sending⁠ people into a state of ecstasy.​​‌ Once they experience‌ it, they chase‌ after higher levels​‌ as if enchanted.⁠‍‌

“…”​

The‍ hunger for achievement​‍ transcends age and​⁠‍ status.

The‍⁠ Grand Duke of​‍​ Duplain, from the‌ noblest lineage, was⁠ no exception.

However,‌⁠ one cannot always⁠ keep ascending. After‌‍ years spent striving​ to reach higher‌ levels, one must‌ eventually confront their‍ own limits.

Despite​‍​ his efforts over⁠ decades, the Grand‍​​ Duke was unable‍⁠​ to reach the⁠⁠ level of a 6-star mage.

Level⁠​‍ 6 is an⁠ extraordinary realm, accessible​‍ only to those‌​​ chosen by the​‍​ heavens among countless‌ geniuses. Though he⁠‍⁠ understood this, the‌​ inability to keep‌ advancing as a mage often left​⁠ him with an⁠‌ emptiness inside.

***‌

‘You​‍‍ hit the nail‌ on the head.‌‌ It’s true, just‌ looking at that‍‍‌ staff makes you‌‍​ want to grip⁠⁠ it tightly.’

The​ Duplain family’s storage​‍ room.

The​‌⁠ Duke’s expression, as​‍ he silently observed‍​ the staff Valerian​‍ brought from the⁠​ White Zone with‌ his hands behind‌ his back, was⁠ far from favorable.⁠

Sometimes,‍​‌ weapons imbued with‍‌ magic contain a “demon” within.
This occurs when​ a certain will‌⁠‌ or ego is‍ sealed inside the‌ magical artifact, or​‍‌ when an aura‌‍ that confuses the‌ mind manifests.

The​ staff Valerian brought⁠ was exactly that.‌⁠‌ Knowing how serious​ he was when‍‌⁠ reporting it, I wondered what kind⁠ of item it‌​‌ would be—but I never imagined something‍‍ so sinister.

‘The​ Rozin Staff, of‌⁠ which I had‍ only heard rumors?​ A relic of​⁠‌ Rozin, the 5-star‌‍ summoner from before‌ the War Era…?‌⁠‍ But Rozin was‍ famous for redefining⁠‌​ the fundamentals of‍ summoning magic, so‍‌ why does this‌⁠‍ feel like necromantic⁠​⁠ energy?’

Rozin’s‍‍ staff looked like‌‌ withered, twisted wood.​ A necromantic aura​‍⁠ slithered around it,‌​ making it seem‍‌ more like a soothsayer’s artifact than​​ that of a summoner to any‌‌‌ onlooker.

Necromancy‌ was taboo, and​‌‌ merely dabbling in‌​‍ it would attract⁠‌​ scrutiny from the‍ imperial family.

A distinct will within‌ the staff seemed‌ to whisper to​​ the Duke.

It​⁠ tempted him, telling‌ him that if​ he wielded it,​​​ he would reach‌‍ the 6-star level—that​⁠ he must use​ its power to⁠‍ ascend.
This wasn’t the‌⁠⁠ first time the⁠‌‍ Duke had encountered‍​ an object with⁠‍ demonic properties. He‌‌ wasn’t someone who‌‍⁠ would easily give​‍​ in to wicked​‍ whispers.

After⁠‌ abruptly suppressing the⁠ staff’s aura with‍‍ his own magic,⁠‍​ he called for‍ the steward, Katarina,​‌ and said:

“We⁠‍‌ must send a letter to the‌‍ imperial family. Rather​ than keeping it‍‍​ and drawing their‍‌ ire, it’s better​‌ to report it⁠ and give them‍ the authority to‍​⁠ dispose of this‌⁠ staff.”

“I’ll⁠⁠ dispatch a messenger‍ immediately. What should‍⁠ the letter say?”​⁠

“Tell⁠‍ them to send‍ the head of‌ the magical advisors.”​​

His‍‍ intent was to​⁠​ summon the most‍​‍ seasoned advisor of​ the imperial family,​⁠ effectively the highest​ magical authority in⁠ the empire—the 6-star⁠⁠ transformation mage, Kohella​ Deinalt Elvester.

The​‍ old fox of​‍⁠ the imperial family⁠⁠⁠ who safeguarded the⁠ kingdom’s magical history,​⁠ the oldest member​‍‌ of the Lontel​‍ Society—brimming with expert⁠‍ alchemists—the greatest transformation​​ mage ever produced⁠ by the noble⁠‍‍ house Elvester, and​ lifelong rival of​⁠ Drest WolfTail… His‌ career was full​ of titles like‌‌ “the best.”

Among‌‍ them, only one‍ truly defined him:​ the longest-serving magical​​ advisor to the⁠‌⁠ imperial family.
He was such‌‌ a formidable mage​​‌ that even the​⁠‌ emperor sought his‍⁠‍ personal counsel. Only⁠​⁠ someone like him⁠‌ would know how‍⁠ to properly dispose‍​ of this staff.⁠‌

***‍

The‌ magical training hall,⁠ immaculate as new,⁠ was one of​ the most meticulously​​‍ prepared spaces in‍‌ Diella’s mansion.

With‍ grand ambitions of​​​ magical achievement, and​ ever since her⁠‍ time with Dereck,​​⁠ she had honed​ her skills without‍‌ a formal tutor.‌⁠⁠

At​‌⁠ Diella’s request—always immersed‌​ in the pursuit​⁠ of magic—her servants⁠‌‌ had outfitted the‍‌ training space to⁠​​ the highest standards‍​⁠ in all of‍ Ebelstein.

The‍​​ result was this⁠⁠ hall. A facility‍​‍ far more polished‍⁠ and complete than‌​​ the training chambers⁠​ near the noble‍​ district plaza.

Standing‍⁠‌ on the practice‌​ platform and adjusting⁠ her outfit, Diella‍⁠​ frowned as her​‌ gaze met Denise’s,‍​ who smiled sweetly⁠ from the other‌ side.

This‍‌​ was Diella’s mansion,⁠⁠‍ her training hall,‌ surrounded by her‌⁠​ own attendants.

Everything‍‍ was arranged in​​ her favor. A potentially uncomfortable setting‍‌ for her opponent.⁠​⁠

Yet​‍ Denise calmly gathered​ her magical energy,⁠‍ without a hint‌​‍ of concern.

‘She’s‍​​ not afraid of‌‍ losing. Seriously… Were​‌⁠ those letters she⁠⁠ sent actually sincere?’‍

Diella‍‍ was confused.

Denise​​ had claimed she‌ would deliberately lose‌ the duel, no⁠‌ matter the terms‌ of the bet.‌‌

If⁠​ her true intention‌‌ was to release​‍ Dereck, Diella would‌​⁠ welcome it. Her‍⁠ claim that their‌​⁠ interests aligned wasn’t‍ entirely empty.

Even⁠⁠ so, Diella didn’t​ lower her guard.‍ The servants, the‌ ladies of the​ Rose Salon, and​ noble gossip all‍‍ said the same—Denise​ was kind, elegant,⁠⁠‍ and outwardly refined.⁠

But‌​ Diella didn’t rule⁠⁠‍ out that it‌ could all be​‌ a façade—a trap​​ to shatter her‌ prideful arrogance.

To​⁠⁠ some, that might⁠ seem excessive, but‌​‌ Diella was not⁠​ one to trust‌⁠‍ easily. It had‌​‌ taken her over‌​ a decade to‍‌ open up to​⁠ the members of​⁠ the Duplain family.‌‍‍ For an outsider‌ to gain her​‍ full trust was⁠ nearly impossible.

“I‌​‍ hope this will⁠ be a good‌‌‌ match. It’s a great honor to​ compete with Lady‍‌⁠ Diella, known for⁠‍ her free-form magic‍‌ and mastery of‌ advanced spells.”

“Yes,‌ me too.”

Diella,⁠​ gathering her magical⁠ energy, replied indifferently‍⁠ and shook her‌ head.

In‌ any case, everything‌‍ would be decided​​⁠ through this duel.‌‌⁠ She trusted her‍‌ abilities.

She‍​ just needed to‍‌​ avoid losing.

Whoosh!⁠

Ding!‌

When​‌⁠ the bell adorned⁠‌​ with beautiful roses‍ rang, tension spread‌‌ across the platform.‌‌

It‌ was the signal‌​ for the start​ of their magical​​ duel. Though it​ was just a sparring match, the‌‌ stakes were high—the​‍ pride of both‍‌ families was on‍ the line.

Diella⁠‌ wanted Dereck.

As‌⁠⁠ a child, she⁠ had yearned to​​ learn again from‍‌ the teacher who​ had shown her​ the magical path‌ during her days‌​ of exploration. A wild genius born⁠ into the Duplain‍‍‍ family, heart of⁠⁠‌ the Order’s School.⁠⁠​

Despite​ her paradoxical background,⁠ she had perfected⁠‌ her magic in⁠ her own way.‌ Dereck surely had​‍ reached even greater‍‌⁠ heights since then,​ and she could‌ learn even more.⁠ Just imagining it​ made her heart​​‍ pound.

Moreover,​‍ Dereck was an‍‌ exceptional assistant.

Indifferent‌ to status, always‌⁠ seeing to the‍​ heart of matters,​‍‍ unafraid to speak⁠​ plainly.

In​ Ebelstein’s cold social‌ climate, having someone‍‍ like him by⁠‍ her side would​​ be an unparalleled​‍‌ weapon.

“I‌‌ won’t drag this​‍‌ out.”

That’s‍​​ why Diella gathered‍ her magical power‍⁠‌ with resolve, determined​ to end the⁠ duel swiftly.

The⁠‍ first spell she‌ cast was one⁠ of ice, specialized⁠‍​ in cold.

The​⁠ wild magic she‌ had studied in​ the pavilion was‍​‌ mostly related to​⁠ plants, but under​​‍ Dereck’s influence, she⁠‍ had gradually opened‍⁠‍ her eyes to‍​‍ illusion magic.

Though⁠‌ much younger than‌ most noblewomen, her⁠‍ magical prowess was⁠⁠⁠ matched by few.⁠‍​

Whoosh!​‍

Large⁠‌​ ice spears formed​‌ around Diella.

They⁠⁠ were bigger, more‌​‌ twisted, and sharper⁠ than when she‌‍‌ had first manifested​ them.

Soon,​‍ thorny vines sprouted​‍​ from the ground,‌ aiming to trap‌​ her opponent, while​ various confusion spells⁠​ that obscured magical‌​‌ energy flooded the⁠‌ training hall.

‘Of​‌⁠ course she uses⁠ multiple spells. And‍​⁠ she’s still so‍‍‌ young.’

Denise​ marveled at Diella,​ who deployed a variety of magic‌‍⁠ in such a short time.

She‍ had heard that‌‍​ the young mage‍ had trained on⁠⁠​ her own after‌ Dereck left.

It⁠‍ was rare for⁠⁠ someone her age‌ to master so‍‌ many advanced spells.‍ Denise quickly retreated,⁠⁠​ drawing a wide​⁠ circle while adjusting​ her stance. Her​ skirt flared like‌ a petal, and‌ her magical energy‌⁠ was unleashed in‌‌⁠ an instant.

She‌ had no intention‍⁠⁠ of countering all‌‍⁠ of Diella’s magic.‌ Truthfully, she never‍​‌ intended to.

Crash!​​‌ Bang! Thud! Thump!​‍‌

Countless‌⁠ spells clashed, and‌⁠‌ Denise’s magic shields‍​‌ materialized, making it‌⁠ look like the‍‌⁠ duel had ended.‍

However,‌ as the dust​‌ settled, Denise emerged⁠ unscathed.

Still​ holding the edge​‍ of her dress​ with an elegant‌ smile, not a single spell had⁠⁠​ touched her.

“…”​‍

Diella​​ frowned. Denise had⁠​ chosen to dodge‍ all of Diella’s‌ magic rather than‌‍ resist it.

To​‍⁠ evade all those​‍ spells was a reckless feat—like trying​​ to walk through⁠ a storm without⁠ a single raindrop‍ touching you.

And‍​‌ yet, there she‍​‌ stood, calmly adjusting​‌​ her posture, even​‍‍ the hem of‌‍ her dress untouched.‍​

As‍‌ if she had⁠ anticipated every trajectory.‌ It made Diella‌​​ feel as if​​‍ she were wasting⁠⁠ her magic.

‘She’s⁠ incredible at detecting​​ magic, isn’t she?⁠‌ Did she train​⁠‍ magic detection all‌‌‌ day long?’

Denise‍​ was considered unmatched‌⁠ among her peers​‌ in magical detection.​⁠ Even the magical⁠ senses Diella had‌ sharpened under Dereck’s​ influence were no⁠‌ match for Denise‍‍ amid the chaos.⁠⁠‌

Seeing‌⁠ her serene demeanor,​​ it felt as⁠‍​ if the duel⁠​​ hadn’t even begun.‍‌‌

‘…’​‌​

Diella‍ swallowed hard.

She⁠ suddenly remembered—Denise was‌ also Dereck’s student.​‌

Now⁠‍⁠ she faced a mage personally trained‍​ by him.

Dereck,​ increasingly prominent in‍​ Ebelstein’s social circles,⁠ was also famous‍ for his students.‌‍‍

It‌⁠‍ was said that‌‌​ if he chose⁠⁠‌ to teach, he‍‌ could sharpen someone’s‍‌ magical senses to‌​⁠ the point that⁠ even first-level spells‌⁠ wouldn’t touch them.⁠

In⁠​ reality, Dereck pushed‍​ people to their⁠ limits, driving their‍‌ magic to the​ extreme. Those who‍‌ couldn’t stay sane​ would be exhausted.‌ He was a ruthless mage who‍ bent to no‌ one, not even​ nobles.

As​ for Denise, who⁠‍⁠ had endured months⁠​ of such training,⁠‌⁠ she seemed to​⁠‌ instantly grasp the‍⁠ flow of every⁠‍ spell Diella cast.‌

Her​​ expression, still softly⁠⁠ smiling, radiated composure.‍

‘You‌ can’t hit her‍‌ with conventional methods.’‍

Diella‍⁠⁠ had to reconsider.‍ Denise’s counterattack was​​ coming. After evading‍ once, Diella would⁠​‌ need more advanced‌ confusion spells to⁠ block her evasive‍⁠​ maneuvers.

Their​​​ magical exchanges repeated⁠⁠ several times.

Each‍ time Denise gracefully‍​ dodged Diella’s spells,⁠ her movements were‍​ as elegant as​‌‌ a dancer’s.

“Haah…‍ Haah…”

Meanwhile,⁠ Diella, with no‌‌ choice but to⁠⁠​ waste her magic,​⁠ began to pant.‍‌‍

Even‌ her confusion spells‌‌‍ were countered, and⁠ the ice spears‌⁠​ were either destroyed⁠ by magical arrows⁠ or dodged as⁠‍​ if Denise had‌⁠ foreseen their paths.‌

The⁠ thorny vines erupting​‍ from the ground⁠ and the walls⁠ of fire didn’t‍​‌ even brush Denise’s‍​ hair—they only drained⁠‍ Diella’s energy.

Meanwhile,‍ Denise used only⁠‍‍ a few simple​⁠ spells without large-scale‌‍ magic.

Like‌ a skilled dagger-wielder​ toying with a greatsword-wielding warrior. Diella​ gritted her teeth,​​‍ glaring at Denise,‍ who maintained a noble smile and⁠‍​ charming demeanor.

Diella⁠ clenched her jaw.​​

True,​ Denise had honed​‍⁠ her magical senses‌‍⁠ under Dereck’s strict‍ training, but she‍‌ wasn’t the only⁠ noble taught by‌‌ him.

Swoosh!⁠​‍

When‍⁠ Diella stepped onto⁠​‍ the platform, cold‌ began to spread,⁠​ blanketing the area.‌⁠‍

Without⁠ even casting a spell, she began‍⁠‍ freezing the entire⁠​ stage. The sudden‍‍‍ magical burst forced‌‌‌ Denise to step‌ back and reassess.‍

Whoosh!‍

Free-form,⁠⁠ unrestrained—that was the​ hallmark of wild‌ mages.

It‌​​ sacrificed attack power​ and efficiency, but‍‌⁠ produced results completely⁠​ unpredictable to the‍‍ opponent. Soon, the‍⁠⁠ platform was encased‌​‍ in ice.

Her⁠ goal was to⁠‍ restrict Denise’s movements‍‍ by altering the​‌ environment itself.

“…”​‍‍

As⁠‍‍ Denise watched intently,‍ Diella stomped the⁠‍ ground again.

Crack!​​

Crash!​

Countless‍ ice pillars surged‍‌ from beneath her‍ feet, racing toward​⁠ Denise.

Denise⁠‍ quickly cast a magical shield to​ block Diella’s attack,‍‍​ but the impact‍ nearly knocked her⁠⁠ backward.

“This‍‍ time you couldn’t‍⁠ dodge, huh?”

Diella’s​‍⁠ blonde hair, wrapped​​‍ in icy magic,‌‍ floated in the⁠‌ air.

At⁠⁠ that moment, even‌ formal titles were⁠ abandoned. Diella was‍⁠⁠ furious, focused only​​ on defeating Denise.‌‍

“It’s‌ funny seeing you​ struggle so hard‍⁠‌ to dodge after​⁠ claiming you’d surrender.⁠​‌ Do you play⁠ with women in‍‍ Ebelstein’s social circles‍ with such petty​⁠ tricks?”

It⁠‍ was a brazen​‌ provocation. To say​‍​ such a thing⁠ to a young⁠​​ lady of the‍​‌ Beltus family made‍⁠ the servants hold‌​‌ their breath.

Denise​‍​ remained silent, lost‍‍ in thought. She‍‍⁠ felt no guilt—it‍‌​ was she who​‍‍ had changed her‍​‌ mind as easily‍‌‌ as flipping a hand.

“Haah…⁠‍ Haah… Grr…”

White​ vapor escaped Diella’s⁠ mouth. Though summer‌ was near, the‌​ training hall felt‍⁠ like the dead​‌ of winter.

Diella‌ could appear to​ be the most⁠ adorable girl in⁠‍‍ the world when⁠ quiet, but now​‍ she bared her⁠ teeth and stared​‍⁠ down her opponent.‌​

Before⁠ that, most nobles‌ would have lost‍ their nerve. But​‍‌ someone like Denise‍ was not easily​ shaken.

Crack!‍

Crash!‌

Each‌​ time Diella stomped,‍​‌ rows of ice​‍‌ pillars erupted, trying‍ to ensnare Denise.‍‌

Denise‌‍‌ swiftly conjured fire⁠ arrows to melt​‍ the ice around‌ her while deploying⁠ shields to withstand‌ the spells. But⁠ unlike her earlier‌‍ evasions, her magical​‌⁠ energy consumption had‍‌ increased dramatically.

With​​⁠ each exchange, Diella​ closed the distance​​ bit by bit.⁠‌

At‍​ close range, prediction‍⁠⁠ and detection were‍ useless. She planned​⁠​ to end the‌‍ duel with a point-blank assault.

“I‌⁠ knew this was​‍​ all you had⁠⁠ from the start.‌‍⁠ I accepted the‌‍ duel fully aware.”‌

Diella,​ wrapped in freezing⁠‌‍ magic, advanced steadily—a‍‌‍ true winter queen.​‌

The⁠ power of the‍​ ice pillars she⁠‌ launched at Denise‌​ grew more destructive​‌ with each strike.‌‌

Diella’s⁠ magic, fueled by⁠‍​ rage, seemed to​​ pierce the sky.​

“I‌‍​ don’t care how‌‍ petty and vile‍ the lady of‍ House Beltus is.‍‍ I didn’t come‍ to Ebelstein to​‌‍ play social games⁠‌ or seek comfort.”⁠‍‌

Her‍ eyes gleamed like⁠‍‌ a beast spotting​ prey in the‌‌​ snow. The cold‍ radiating from her‍ made her opponents⁠ shiver.

“So‌ I don’t care​⁠ if you rule‍⁠‍ the Rose Salon⁠​‍ with your power…⁠⁠‌ Just give me​‌ Dereck.”

Just‌ let him go‍‍⁠ and leave. Then⁠‌​ I won’t care⁠ what you do.‍

After​ declaring that to‌ Denise, she unleashed​‍ her magical energy.‍‍‍

“…”​

Denise​​‍ stared at Diella.⁠ Her elegant silver‍⁠ hair fluttered from⁠‍⁠ the power radiating‌‍ from Diella.

It‍⁠ was clear why⁠‍​ this girl named‌​⁠ Diella was so⁠‍‌ desperate to take‌ Dereck.

She⁠‍‌ clearly longed for​⁠ the days under​ his tutelage. In‌‍ truth, Dereck was‍ the kind of‍ man who disrupted‌‌‌ others’ lives without‍‌‍ hesitation, realigned them​‌ by his own⁠⁠ will, and then‌​ vanished without accepting​ any praise.

A strange, enigmatic man.⁠

As‍⁠‍ Denise thought of​ him, she realized—even‍ when exhausted by​ magic—he had pushed​‍ her forward, even​ if it meant‍‌ pushing her away.‌

The⁠‍ internal affairs of​ the great noble⁠ houses were like‍ natural disasters—impossible to‍ endure.

But⁠ that man, with⁠‍ his indifferent expression‌‌​ as if nothing⁠‌‌ mattered, knew how‍‌ to toy with​‍‍ people’s hearts.

If​‍​ you underestimated a drizzle, you’d end​‍ up drenched.

Denise‍‌ found herself naturally‌ accepting the attitude​⁠⁠ of the man‍​ who took her​ by the wrist.⁠ A mocking smile‌ crept across her⁠‌ lips, but she​‍‍ didn’t feel humiliated.‍⁠

Sitting⁠⁠​ in that dimly‍ lit art storage​‍‌ room, every time‌​‌ that cold-hearted white-haired⁠‍⁠ boy—who even mentioned⁠‍⁠ the embarrassing drafts​ of her novel—blinked​⁠ before her eyes,‌​ she couldn’t help‌‍ but think:

It⁠‍ would feel empty‌ without him.

“Ahaha.”⁠​

That’s‍ why Denise smiled‍ at Diella.

It‌⁠‌ wasn’t the polite,‍ noble smile she​‍ had always shown.‌‍

“Ahaha…‌ Hahaha… Ahahaha.”

It⁠⁠ was a genuine,⁠⁠‌ meaningful laugh—almost mocking⁠ Diella.

Her‌‌‌ eyes, as cold‍ as Diella’s, sparkled‍‌ with a threatening​⁠ glint contrary to‍‍ her angelic image.‌⁠⁠ Even Diella, burning⁠⁠ with rage, paused⁠ for a moment.⁠

A small lioness had​⁠‍ bared her fangs,‍‌⁠ demanding Denise give​‍⁠ up Dereck.

Facing​ such an opponent,⁠​ Denise spoke, still​‌ smiling.

“I⁠‍ don’t want to.”​​​

At​⁠ last, the thread⁠ holding Diella’s reason‌⁠ snapped.

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