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Noble Lady Reformation Guide Chapter 64: Drop of Blood (10)

Chapter 64: Drop of Blood (10)

Bang!​​⁠

When​⁠⁠ the giant skeleton’s‍‍ fist struck the‌​‌ wall, debris flew​ and it began‍‍‍ to collapse.

Amidst⁠ the chaos, Valerian,‌‌ his crimson eyes‌‌‌ glowing, charged at⁠‌ Dereck, sword in‍‍‍ hand.

The⁠ concentration required to⁠​ wield four-star necromantic​‌ magic while brandishing‌ a sword was⁠‌ astounding. He had‍‌​ already surpassed his​ limits. His mind,⁠​⁠ pushed to the‍‌​ brink, no longer‍ knew reason.

If​‍⁠ Dereck stood in⁠ his way, he‌‌ would simply eliminate⁠​ him. That simple‍ cause-and-effect reasoning filled‍⁠‍ his mind.

The​⁠ downfall of a noble family, collapsing‍ beyond recovery, was‍ a pitiful sight,‌ and Dereck felt‍‍ a flicker of​ sympathy for him.​

But‍‌‌ wrong was wrong.​‍ Dereck was someone‌​‌ who fiercely guarded‍ against any hesitation⁠ born of compassion.⁠⁠

Snap!​⁠⁠

Valerian‍ had already reached‍​ his limit.

He‌‌ had bewitched the‍ mansion’s servants, controlled‍⁠‌ numerous monstrous corpses,⁠ and even commanded​‍ a giant skeleton.‍⁠

No⁠​‍ matter how tightly‍‍ he clutched Rozin’s‍ staff, handling magic‌⁠​ on this scale​ simultaneously was pushing​‌ him to the⁠ brink.

Clang!​

Dereck‍ moved with the‍​​ agility of a wild animal and‌‌​ slipped into Valerian’s‌⁠ space. The dagger⁠ he held in‌ a reverse grip‍‌ pierced the gap⁠ in Valerian’s armor‍⁠ at the wrist.‍‍ The sudden pain‍ nearly made him​ drop the staff,⁠‍‌ but Valerian gritted​​ his teeth and‌‍‌ endured the agony.⁠

Thud!​​

He​‍ kicked Dereck to‍ create distance and‍ again commanded the‍‌‌ giant skeleton.

The‍⁠‌ sheer physical power⁠​‍ of each of⁠⁠​ that skeleton’s blows‍‌​ was something no​​‌ human body could⁠ withstand. Blocking was​ out of the‍‌‌ question, and deflecting⁠‌ was not an⁠ option either. It‍⁠ was an attack‍⁠ that had to​‍ be avoided at​‌ all costs.

Valerian⁠‌ knew this well,‍‍ and just as‍​ he tried to‌ summon more magic​ to press Dereck,​‍⁠ a familiar voice‍‍⁠ called his name.‍‌⁠

“Valerian,‌ brother…!”

At⁠‍​ the sound of​⁠‍ his name, Valerian’s​​ eyes trembled. His​⁠ body lost strength‍​⁠ for a moment,​‌ and he shuddered​ completely. Dereck didn’t‍ miss the chance⁠​‌ and kicked him​‍ in the chest.‌⁠

Crash!​​⁠ Bang!

Valerian‌⁠⁠ rolled across the⁠‌ ground and landed⁠ in the garden​ bed.

Under‍‌‍ the torrential rain,‌‍ Valerian forced himself⁠​ to stand and⁠⁠ looked toward Aiselin.‍​‌ He had been‍⁠​ avoiding her gaze,‌⁠‌ but now it⁠​ was time to‍‌⁠ face her.

The‌ father he had‍ so deeply respected—he‍‌​ had stabbed with⁠‌⁠ his own hands,​⁠ and the guilt⁠ of patricide had⁠​⁠ driven him to‍ madness.

Even‌‍ as he struggled‌ to rise, seeking​‌ to atone for⁠ his sins, Valerian⁠‍⁠ had to confront⁠​⁠ the truth.

The‌‌ family he had‍‍​ loved wasn’t just‍‍ his father. Beyond​ the shattered wall,​⁠⁠ the girl trembling‌⁠ beside Diella’s bed‍ was also part⁠​⁠ of that cherished‍‍ family.

“…Aiselin.”‌‍

At‍‍ last, the whispers⁠‌⁠ of madness clouding‍⁠ his mind began‍‌​ to fade, and​ Valerian responded in​‌‍ a trembling voice.‌‌

***‌‌‍

When⁠‍​ his blurred vision‌⁠​ returned, life came⁠ back to Valerian’s‌‍⁠ eyes.

It‍ was the moment‍ he saw Aiselin,⁠‍ drenched and sitting‌‍​ on the ground.‌

Swoosh!‍

Under‌⁠‍ the rain, he‌ looked down at⁠⁠ himself. His armor‌⁠‍ was soaked in​ blood.

He⁠ turned his head‍ slightly to look⁠⁠⁠ at the mansion—completely⁠‌ destroyed, with numerous⁠ injured servants scattered‌⁠‍ across the floor.⁠ In one hand​⁠ he held a sharp longsword, and⁠‍ in the other,​ the necromancer’s staff⁠‍​ that had clouded​ his judgment.

“…”⁠

The​ acts committed in‌‍ madness were vivid.‌‍‍ The one responsible‍ for all this‌‌​ carnage was none‌⁠‍ other than himself.⁠

Valerian‍‌‍ looked at Dereck‍⁠ with trembling eyes.‌ Dereck held his⁠‍‍ gaze, frowning.

The​ light of reason⁠‍​ was returning to‍⁠‍ Valerian’s eyes. Seeing‌ Aiselin trembling behind‌ Dereck, Valerian dropped‍‌ his sword and​‌‍ fell to his‍ knees.

Thud!‍⁠

The‌ towering skeleton that‌‌‌ had burst through‌‍ the wall stopped‌ moving.

Standing⁠ in the rain,​​ it resembled a massive statue. Despite⁠‌‍ the falling droplets,‌​ it showed no​ further intention of‌‍​ advancing.

“Ah…‌‌​ Huff…”

Raindrops‌‍‍ slid through Valerian’s⁠‌⁠ hair and hit‍‌ the ground, vanishing​⁠ as they touched.⁠

Valerian‌‍ silently stared at​‍ his trembling hand‌​‌ resting on the​‌​ floor. The room⁠‍ of Diella was⁠‌⁠ strewn with scattered⁠‌ watercolors.

Among⁠ them were portraits‌‌⁠ of Dereck. A masterpiece that his⁠​​ dear younger sister⁠ had created with⁠‌ devotion, intending to⁠⁠​ gift it to⁠‌ her most admired‍‌‍ teacher.

It⁠​ seemed like just⁠‌​ yesterday she was​​ being praised for‍​​ effortlessly correcting any‌⁠⁠ flawed strokes and⁠​ completing the painting.​​

By⁠⁠‌ the time he‍ regained consciousness, the​‍ ball had already‍‌ turned into a disaster. And the​⁠ family was almost​​‌ completely ruined.

Who‌ was responsible for‍ all this? No‍⁠ one but Valerian.​‌ He lifted his⁠‍ trembling head and⁠ spoke in a dragging voice.

“Kill​ me.”

His‍⁠ gaze turned to‍‍‍ where Aiselin lay⁠ collapsed. Aiselin shivered​ once more, holding‌ her breath. Valerian⁠ spoke with complete‌ sincerity.

“H-Brother​ Valerian…”

“Before​‌​ outsiders intervene… you‌​‍ must end it.”⁠‍‍

Valerian⁠⁠⁠ already understood. He⁠⁠​ should not be⁠‍⁠ allowed to live.‍⁠‍

For​​​ House Duplain to​​ maintain even a shred of its‌​⁠ legacy, there needed‍⁠‌ to be an‍ external justification that⁠ they had cast⁠ out their wayward‌‌‍ eldest son.

Valerian’s⁠​⁠ erratic actions had⁠ to be seen‍ as his alone,‍⁠ and a symbolic​​ event had to​ demonstrate that they​‌​ didn’t reflect the‌ family’s will.

If‌ the mages in⁠‍‍ the main hall⁠⁠ began to recover‍‌ their senses, or‌​ if neighboring territories​⁠​ responded, no one⁠ could predict how‍‍ things would unfold.‌‍

So‌ this had to‌‍ be resolved within​ the Duplain family.‍⁠‍ The sword was​ now in Aiselin’s‌ hands.

Thud!​

Valerian‌​‍ removed the armor‌‌‌ from his torso.‌‍ His slender figure,‌‌​ clad in noble‍‍ clothes soaked with⁠ rain and sweat,‍‍ clung tightly to​ his body.

Still⁠​ kneeling, Valerian tossed‌‌ the sword toward​‌ Aiselin. It rolled‌ across the ground,‌‌ clattering several times.⁠‌‌

Dereck‌⁠‍ stepped on the⁠​ blade before it‍ reached Aiselin, stopping‌ it.

“…There’s​​ no time, Aiselin.”‍‍‍

“Brother…​‍ what are you‌‌ saying…?”

“…Before​ I lose my⁠ sanity again, you‍ must end it.”‌‌

Dereck‍‌ looked at Aiselin‍​ silently. Soon, he‌​⁠ gave a small​ nod without a word.

Aiselin⁠‌ bit her lower​‌⁠ lip and picked⁠⁠ up the sword​ with her trembling,‍​​ delicate hands.

And‌ under the rain,‌ she slowly walked‌‍ toward Valerian. Her‍​ body was drenched,​‌​ and she stumbled‍ several times, unable​ to summon the‌ strength.

Yet​‍‍ Valerian remained still,‍‍‍ watching her approach​ without moving an‌ inch.

“I’m‍ sorry things had⁠‍ to end like‍​⁠ this…”

“Brother…‍​ Valerian…”

Aiselin⁠‌‍ raised the sword‌⁠‌ with trembling hands‌​ and called out⁠​ his name several‌​‌ times in a broken voice.

But‍​‍ there was no⁠‌ turning back. If​​⁠ she didn’t end‌ Valerian while he⁠‌ still had a moment of clarity,‌‍​ House Duplain would‌​​ fall even further.​​​ Valerian knew that​ himself. So, with​⁠ tears streaming down‌⁠ her face, Aiselin​‌ raised the sword⁠ higher.

Whoosh!‍

But‍ from Rozin’s staff,‍‍‍ which Valerian still‍‍⁠ held, a new​⁠ surge of power​ began to erupt.​​

As‌ if it couldn’t‌ allow the death‌‍‍ of its wielder,‍‍ who acted as‍⁠​ its channel, a more intense will‍​⁠ began whispering to‌‍‌ him. It urged‌‍ him to seek⁠ more power, more⁠ corpses, more slaughter.​‌​

Valerian​ bit his lip‌ and clung to⁠​​ his sanity, silently‌‌‍ watching Aiselin.

Aiselin,⁠ tears cascading down‌ her cheeks, looked⁠⁠‍ down at Valerian​⁠⁠ and finally dropped​​​ the sword from‍‌ her hands.

“Brother…⁠‍ Brother, there must⁠ be another way.⁠ Even if it’s​​ not this… there‌‍⁠ has to be​‍ another way…”

“Miss‍‌‌ Aiselin! Do not‌⁠ hesitate!”

Dereck’s​‍ voice rang out,⁠‍​ and Aiselin’s arm⁠‍ began to tremble.‍‌ For someone who​‌‍ had lived her⁠⁠‍ life like a pure lily, the⁠‍​ thought of killing‍​ her own blood‍​ was too cruel.⁠ She knew, but‍ hesitation now would⁠‍​ solve nothing.

Soon​⁠ after, an even‌ stronger power began‍ to surge from‌⁠ Rozin’s staff. Valerian‍‌‍ screamed in pain,⁠‍ and the storm⁠⁠‌ around them grew‌​ more violent.

Whoosh!⁠

Aiselin‍ fell to the​‌ ground under the⁠‍‌ wild wind, staring​​​ with trembling eyes​​‌ at the sword‌ lying on the‌‌ ground.

The​​ sudden burden she‍​ had to bear‍⁠ felt like it​ weighed a thousand⁠⁠ tons.

Dereck‍⁠ watched silently, realizing⁠​ there was no⁠⁠ more hope.

Perhaps⁠ it would be‍​​ better if he‍ did it himself​ and claimed Aiselin​ had done it.​ In a crisis​ like this, there⁠‍ was no time‍‍​ to waste.

Just‍ as Dereck was‍‍‌ about to pick⁠‍ up the sword—​

“…Then​ I’ll do it.”‍

Snap!⁠

A girl appeared in‍​ the middle of‍​⁠ the storm and⁠⁠‍ picked up the‌ sword. It seemed​‍ too heavy for‌⁠ her small hands,⁠‍⁠ but she pressed⁠‍‍ her lips together‍ and stepped toward⁠ Valerian.

Thud!‌​

What‍‍ followed happened in​⁠ an instant.

The‍‌ girl’s flowing hair​‍‌ whipped wildly in​​‍ the storm. It​‌​ looked like a lion’s mane blowing⁠‌ in the wind.⁠​

***‍​‍

I still clearly remember‌‌ Diella chasing a ball across the​⁠‌ mansion garden.

She⁠⁠ had once been‍‍ a sweet little​ girl, but she⁠ grew into a beautiful young lady.⁠

She⁠‍​ learned to manage‍‌‍ the servants in‌​ her own way,‌ mastered many forms​​ of etiquette, and‌ excelled in the‌‍ arts. Sitting alone‌‌‌ in the garden,‍⁠‍ canvas spread before​‍ her, pursing her‍ lips as she​ contemplated her painting—she‍⁠ truly seemed like⁠​ a noblewoman.

Feeling‍ a strange mix​ of pride and​⁠ tenderness, Valerian silently‌‍ looked at Diella,‍ who had thrown​‌‍ herself into his‍​ arms.

The‌​⁠ sword she held‍​ pierced his chest.‌ Blood spilled from​‌ Valerian’s lips.

The‍‍ dress she had‌ prepared for the​‍‌ ball was stained​ red.

As‍ soon as she‍​ stepped out of‍ the carriage and​ saw the scene,⁠ Diella made a swift decision.

Though‌​ her face was⁠​ streaked with tears,‍​⁠ she bit her​​ lower lip to‍‍‍ contain her emotions.⁠‌​ Yet her trembling⁠ hands betrayed her​ feelings.

‘I⁠​​ see now…’

Only‍‌ then did Valerian​​ understand. That resolve,⁠‍ that step forward​⁠‍ despite the fear,⁠‍ was Diella’s greatest⁠‌ strength. That determined‍​ expression was the‍‌ same she had⁠‍ when painting with​ watercolors.

How⁠⁠ much determination did​⁠‍ it take to​⁠ draw each irreversible‍⁠​ line on a blank canvas?

And‌⁠ when she made​​ a mistake, her‌ ability to quickly⁠‌ adapt and fix⁠ it was a gift from the​‌‌ heavens. In this‌​ splendid and talented‌‍ family, perhaps Valerian​‌⁠ had been a mistaken brushstroke. This,‍ in a way,​‍⁠ was a remarkable​‍ improvisation.

Valerian‌​​ smiled faintly and‍ placed his hand‌‍ on Diella’s head.‌⁠‌

Watching⁠ her tremble, he⁠‍ let out a soft laugh and⁠‍ said,

“You’ve…⁠ grown, haven’t you…?”‌

Diella,​ who had been‍ looking down, widened‍​​ her eyes in​⁠‌ surprise. Soon after,​​ Valerian lost all​​ strength and collapsed‍ to the ground.‌⁠​

Thud​⁠⁠

Clang!​‍ Clang!

The‍ staff fell from​‍‌ Valerian’s hand and⁠​ rolled across the⁠​ ground.

The‍‍‌ rain began to‌⁠‍ ease gently.

Drenched,​‍​ Diella looked up​​ at the dark‌‍ clouds slowly dispersing.⁠‍ Sunlight filtered through⁠⁠ the bones of‍‌ the now-motionless giant⁠ skeleton.

Kneeling‌ in the mud,‍‌​ she gazed at​​ her brother’s cold,‍ lifeless body.

She​‌⁠ held her breath​‍ to keep from‍⁠‌ crying—feeling that even‌​ a moment of‌‌ weakness would unleash⁠ her tears.

Squelch,⁠‌ squelch.

A mercenary approached the‌ girl sitting there.‍​​

“Miss⁠ Diella.”

The‌ voice that softly‌‍‌ called her was⁠ the one she⁠‍⁠ loved most.

“It’s‍‌ been a while,​⁠‌ Dereck. I’m ashamed‍⁠ to say this‍ after inviting you,​‍‌ but as you‍‍ can see… the​​‌ ball was a disaster.”

“It’s​‍‌ all right.”

Diella‌‍ spoke in a barely audible voice,⁠ soaked with tears.​‍ Dereck stood behind​​​ her, brushing the‍⁠ mud from his⁠​‌ clothes.

With⁠⁠⁠ trembling shoulders, Diella⁠‌​ whispered,

“Dereck.⁠‍ I’m sorry, but⁠‍ may I ask‌‍⁠ you for a favor?”

“Of‌ course. Anything.”

“Could‌‌ you… hold me,‌‍ just this once?”⁠

“…”‍‍‍

Without‍‍ hesitation, Dereck knelt‌​​ beside her and‍ wrapped his arms‍ around her.

Moments‍ later, the girl⁠​‌ who had lost⁠⁠‌ everything broke down‍ in tears in⁠ Dereck’s embrace.

She‌⁠​ clung tightly to‌⁠​ his neck and‍‍‍ buried her face‌‌⁠ in his chest.⁠⁠

Both‍⁠ of them soaked,⁠ covered in mud,‍​ blood, and sweat…​ yet neither complained.​

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