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Noble Lady Reformation Guide Chapter 9: Diella (2)

Chapter 9: Diella (2)

Moving​‍‌ with difficulty, moving⁠‍ with difficulty.

In‍ the deep night—when‌ everyone except the‍‍​ on‑watch servants slept—Dereck⁠ crossed the garden‍​ toward the pavilion,​‍‌ gathering his thoughts.⁠‍‌

To​ teach a first‑tier​‌ spell, you must​⁠​ first materialize basic‍ magical power.

Trying​ to wield magic⁠ hastily without knowing​ how to release‍ that power is‌​ like firing a gun with no⁠‌‍ bullets. The foundation⁠⁠ of all magic⁠ is recognizing and‌​⁠ materializing mana.

None⁠⁠ of the mages⁠‌‍ who taught Diella​ so far could‍ have ignored that.‍ There must be‌ a reason they​‍⁠ all failed. In​​ truth, training this⁠​⁠ fundamental aspect of‌‌‌ magical power has⁠‍ no single fixed‌​ theory—each academy holds⁠​ different views, making‌⁠ the process difficult.⁠⁠​ Every mage develops⁠ their own instinctive‌ method for shaping‌‌ mana.

When‍‌ that happens, anyone‌ would be confused—which⁠‌‍ is why magic⁠⁠ instructors are considered‍‌ advanced personnel.

It‍ makes sense that‌‍ noble houses across‌‌ the continent compete⁠‌ to bring capable‍⁠​ tutors to their​⁠ estates. Teaching magic​ is an immense‌‌ responsibility.

“If‌ the Regulated Academy’s‍‍ method doesn’t work,​⁠⁠ I have no​ choice but to‌⁠ try a different‍‌ approach.”

Dereck​‍​ kept walking. Diella‍‍ must already have​‍ studied all the​‍ theory about magical‌‌ power long ago.‌ Most likely she⁠ still lacked the⁠⁠‍ trigger to manifest‍‌‍ it.

The​ Regulated Academy breaks‌‍ mana use into​‍​ four stages: recognition,‍ extraction, manipulation, and‍‍‌ manifestation. Once those​⁠ four proceed smoothly,‌⁠ you can willfully⁠‌ control your magical​​ energy.

But​​ Dereck didn’t learn‌‍​ magic that way.​‌‌ What taught him‌ wasn’t reference books,‍‍​ ink, or quills—it⁠ was the sword‌⁠⁠ that appeared before​​ his eyes, the⁠⁠‍ arrow flying at​ him, the axe‍‌⁠ wielded by a goblin.

When‌​‌ did young Dereck⁠ first show his‍​​ supernatural power? It​​‌ was when he​⁠ climbed the back⁠ mountain to gather‍​​ dry herbs and‌‌ encountered a wild​​⁠ boar.

The⁠‌ fear of death‌ lurking behind him,​‍ the stark reality‌‍​ of fighting for‌ his life—that materialized​​ his magical power​ for the first‌‍⁠ time. That was​‍‌ his first spell.⁠

That’s​‌‍ the life of​ a Wild‑School mage:‌ they always manifest⁠ their power in‍ the crucible of‌⁠ extreme survival instinct.‌​⁠

“…”‍⁠⁠

Recalling‌‍‌ Diella’s paintings with‍‌ empty margins, Dereck‍ nodded and pressed⁠ on.

***‌

Bang!‍​

When​‍ Dereck kicked open​⁠ the pavilion door,​​ the waiting servants​‍​ in the hall‍‌ jumped.

Pitch‑dark‌ night. A cloaked‍‍ youth bursting through‌ the main door‌​ under moonlight—it was‌ impossible not to⁠ be alarmed. Once‌‌‍ they recognized him⁠ as Dereck, the‌⁠​ servants grew even⁠‍ more uneasy.

“What‍ brings you here…?”‌

“Thank‌‌⁠ you for your‍ service.”

Dereck⁠ passed the servants​‌ and strode down‌​ the hall. His⁠‍​ determined gait left​ them unable to⁠‍ intervene. He was⁠‍ Diella’s tutor, authorized‌ directly by the‌ Duke.

Before⁠‌ entering Diella’s room,‌​ he paused by‌ the kitchen. He​ spotted the cold,‍‍‌ clean water the‍‌‍ cooks had prepared​​‍ for the next⁠ day. He lifted‌ an oak bucket‍​​ of it and⁠⁠⁠ climbed the stairs‍ from the central‍​‍ hall. Ignoring anxious​‍ stares, he went‍ straight to Diella’s‍⁠ door and kicked‌‌‌ it open.

Bang!‌‍⁠

Amid​ the lace‑adorned bed‍‍⁠ lay Diella, buried‌⁠​ like a sleeping​ princess.

Her⁠ elegant pajamas and​‌‌ hair swept to​ one side shone⁠‌ softly. Anyone seeing​⁠‌ her sleeping form‍ would think no‌‌‍ more graceful lady‍‍ existed.

Splash!⁠

Without‌​ mercy, Dereck poured​‌‍ the water over​⁠ her. The servants​ who had followed‍⁠​ shrieked, and the‌ guards roused from⁠​ sleep froze in‌‌ alarm.

“Kyaaak!”⁠

Like⁠⁠ a bolt, or‍⁠ rather a cold‌‍ plunge at dawn,​ Diella awoke with​‍ a start. Dereck⁠ stood before her.‌‌‍

He‍‌‍ let the empty‌‍‌ bucket clatter to⁠⁠‍ the floor and⁠ fixed his cold‌⁠​ red eyes on​ her, as always.⁠‌

“Sleepy​⁠​ now?”

“What?”‍

“Do‌‌‍ you want to‌‌‌ go back to⁠‍ sleep?”

If​‍‌ this continued, she’d‍‍⁠ be sent straight‌ to the monastery.‍ Diella must feel‍ it too. If⁠⁠⁠ she kept silent,​​ not only would‍‍​ her social debut​⁠ be impossible, she‍⁠⁠ wouldn’t even be‌​ allowed to remain​‍ in the mansion.‍‌⁠

Rather⁠‍⁠ than waking to‍​‌ filthy water, Diella‌​ stared at him​‌⁠ in disbelief. From⁠ Dereck’s view, this⁠​‍ was mercy—better than‍⁠ soaking in dirty‌​ water.

He⁠‌​ then grabbed her⁠ arm and hauled‌ her up. She⁠‍ tried to resist‍⁠‌ his commanding grip,‌‍⁠ but his strength‌ was overwhelming.

“Kyaaak!‌ What are you‍‌​ doing? Everyone! Why⁠‍⁠ are you just‌​‌ watching? Stop him!‌‌‍ Stop this commoner!”​​

“…”‍

The‌ servants outside the​ door looked on‌ worriedly, powerless to​ help.

Their‍‍ rising anxiety questioned‌ whether this was​⁠ truly permitted—but in‌ any case, the‌⁠ reason lay with‌ Dereck.

Diella⁠⁠⁠ struggled in vain‍ against his grasp,‍⁠ but it was‍ useless. With determined⁠ steps, he dragged‌ her down the‌‌ mansion stairs.

The‍​ butler Delron watched‌ them go, concern‍⁠​ in his eyes,⁠ having hurried over⁠‍⁠ at the news.⁠​‌

He‌ nevertheless had no‍⁠⁠ grounds to stop‍‍⁠ Dereck. With a curt nod, Dereck‍‌ continued, taking Diella⁠‌‌ from the pavilion.​

“Do​ you think you​ can get away‌‌‍ with this?!”

Dereck⁠‍‌ kept walking, exiting⁠⁠ the pavilion and‍ crossing the grounds.⁠⁠ He dragged the‍⁠ protesting Lady Diella‍ onward, walking, walking,⁠ as if the‌‍ procession would never‍‍ end.

Eventually,​ under the ambitious‌‌​ moonlight, they reached⁠​ the central meadow,​ far from the‌​ mansion. Dereck finally​ swung his arm​‌ and flung Diella‌⁠ onto the grass.⁠‌

Thud!​​‍

“Kyaa!”‌⁠

Her⁠ wet pajamas clung⁠​ to her, grass‌‌ blades poking up‌⁠ beneath her.

Even‌‌⁠ her once‑silken golden​ hair was tangled​⁠‍ with leaves, rendering​ her all but‍ unladylike.

Her​‌‍ fingertips trembled, but‍⁠​ at last she‌ managed a bitter‍‌‍ smile.

“Ha…‌ hah… Do you⁠ think this changes‍‌‍ anything?”

“…”⁠‍​

“Teach⁠‌ me magic? Me?‌‍ You think you’re​ the only one‌​‍ who’s ever said‌ that? You think‍​⁠ I haven’t tried​ before? I’m sorry,‌‍‌ but wake up!‍ Go tutor some‌​ other noble!”

Though⁠ trembling, Diella spat‌ out her defiance.‌‌ Soaked and cast​‌‍ upon the grass,⁠ her tone never‌​ wavered.

“How‍⁠ dare you, commoner…!”⁠‌‍

Ignoring‌​ her cries, Dereck⁠‌‌ stepped closer, leveling​‌​ the tip of​ his sword at‌⁠ her. The moonlight⁠​​ glinted sharply off‌ the blade as⁠ it entered her⁠‌​ vision. Her fingers‌ shook uncontrollably.

“We’re‍‌⁠ far from the⁠⁠⁠ mansion and no‌ one can hear⁠ us, so let‌‌ me tell you‍‌⁠ this now.”

“What…?”‍

“I‍‌‍ have absolutely no‌⁠‌ special desire to‌​ teach Lady Diella⁠​ anything—like magic.”

“What??”‍​⁠

At​‍​ the same time,‌​‌ the corner of‌⁠ Dereck’s mouth curved‌‍⁠ into a cold​ smile. Even at​‌ night, wrapped in‍ darkness, the moonlight‌‍ shone brightly. Bathed‍ in that light,‍ Dereck’s red pupils⁠​​ gleamed as his⁠ smile grew more‌ chilling.

“I‍⁠ only enjoy beating⁠ nobles to a pulp.”

“What…​⁠‍ are you saying…?”​⁠​

He​ always maintained a veneer of dignity​⁠ in front of⁠⁠ the Duplain nobles.‌⁠⁠ But once out‌⁠‌ of sight, his​‌⁠ true nature flowed‌ freely, as though‍‍ it had always​‍⁠ been there.

“As⁠ I said, I’m⁠‍ a plebeian from‌ the sewers. Why​⁠‌ on earth should⁠‌ I like nobles‍⁠‍ who look down‌ on me from‌ their mansions just​⁠⁠ because they were​ born with noble‍‌ blood?”

“What…⁠‌‍ are you talking‌ about…?”

“Being‌ a tutor or​ whatever is all⁠​​ just an excuse.‌‌ Besides, punching and⁠ hearing the screams‌‍ of an arrogant,⁠ snobby noblewoman like‌ you—what better reason⁠ is there to⁠‌​ smack someone around​ shamelessly? And on​‌ top of that,‍‍⁠ I get paid​‍⁠ for it.”

Seeing​​ that terrifying smile,‍ Diella involuntarily held‌⁠ her breath. Had‍‍ she been wrong⁠⁠ to think that‌ Dereck was acting‌​​ on her behalf?‌​

Before‌‌⁠ Diella could answer,​ Dereck kicked her‍⁠ in the shoulder​⁠​ with his boot.⁠‌‌

“Ah!”‌‍​

—Thud!​⁠​

When‌‍ Diella fell to​‌​ the ground and⁠⁠​ looked up again,​⁠‌ Dereck drew his​‌‍ longsword. The moonlight⁠ reflected off the‌ sharp blade, filling‌ her vision. Her​​‍ fingertips began trembling‌ uncontrollably.

“You—you—you…‍‍ are you insane…?”‌‌‍

“I⁠⁠⁠ greatly enjoy hearing‌​‌ haughty nobles like⁠⁠ you scream in‌‌ pain. The more‍‌‍ you believe in​‌ your lofty status⁠ and lord it​‍ over everyone, the‌‍ better.”

“If‍‌‍ you do this…‍ you think you’ll‍⁠ save your life?”⁠⁠⁠

“What⁠‍​ difference does it⁠‍​ make with no⁠‌ witnesses? And since‌‍ they’ll send you‌ to the monastery‍ soon, who will⁠ believe your words?‌ Do you think‍‍ anyone in this​​⁠ house is on‍ your side?”

As⁠⁠‌ Dereck advanced, sword​ pointed, Diella crawled‍ backward through the‍‍ grass, but from‍⁠‍ the ground there​‌⁠ was no escape—she​ would be caught‍⁠ in moments.

“Fear⁠⁠ not. Experienced mercenaries​ know how to‌‌ inflict pain without⁠‌​ permanent harm. The‍​‌ human body has‍‍ many parts that‍ heal quickly. Like⁠​ fingernails, for example.”‌‌‌

“…Agh…⁠⁠ Hah…”

“What​‌​ if there are‌⁠⁠ lasting effects?”

The​⁠‍ man approaching under‌⁠‍ the moonlight was‌‍ clearly insane. Diella‍‍ felt her entire‍​ body start to‍ tremble uncontrollably. She⁠‍ had sensed it​‍‍ from the moment​‍ he raised his​‌‌ hand to her—he​​‍ wasn’t in his​​‌ right mind. In⁠ a way, all​⁠ of this felt‌ like fate.

“If‌ something like that‍ happens, I suppose⁠ death will be‍​ my redemption.”

“Ah…‍‌ Ahhh…!”

Diella‌ grabbed a handful‍⁠ of dirt and⁠ flung it at‌ Dereck’s eyes.

Swish!⁠

“Ugh.”‌‌

Dereck​ quickly shielded his‌‍ face with his‌‌‌ elbow, blocking the‍⁠‍ clump. Taking the⁠ opportunity, Diella sprang‌‍​ to her feet​‍ and dashed toward‍​ the nearby forest.⁠⁠​

Running‍⁠‍ across the meadow⁠‍ would get her​​ caught quickly. Even‌ in that fleeting⁠​ instant, she reasoned‌⁠‌ that the forest⁠‌ was her best‍‌‍ chance. Hiding in​⁠ the darkness, she’d⁠​⁠ first have to​​ deal with the‍⁠‍ madman among the‌ bushes.

As‍‍​ she ran and‍​​ thought this, a wave of pressure​ swept through the​‍‍ area like a gathering gust of‍‌ wind.

Swish!​​‍

Desperate​‍​ to escape, she⁠ fled into the‌⁠ woods. But then,‍‍​ compelled by a terrible feeling, she‌​ looked back—only to⁠ question her eyes.⁠ A flame larger​​‍ than a human.‌‍​

Dereck,⁠‌⁠ no longer holding⁠‌ his sword, seemed⁠‍ to be controlling⁠ the area with‍ his very presence,⁠​​ gathering magic into​ his free hand.‌‌​

‘What,⁠ what is that…?!’⁠

Level​‌ Two spell—Fireball. A combat spell used‍ by nobles who⁠ had gradually become‌⁠ proficient in magic.​⁠‍ He hadn’t even‍ spoken the usual‍⁠⁠ incantation.

Even‌‍ Valerian, her magically⁠ gifted older brother,‌​ had secluded himself‍‍ for months to⁠‌ begin learning level‍​ two spells. Seeing⁠​⁠ such magic erupt​‌ from Dereck’s hand‍‍‍ felt utterly unreal.⁠‍​

No—she​ could only hope⁠‍‍ it wasn’t real.​⁠ Her opponent was‌‌​ a madman who‌ took pleasure in‌​⁠ beating her to‌‌ pieces. Suddenly, a massive pressure burst‍‍‌ forth, and the‍ fireball he launched⁠ flew toward her.‍​​

“Ugh!”​​‌

Diella,‌⁠‌ heedless of the⁠‌ scratches on her‍ body, dodged by‌‌​ leaping. The enormous​​‍ fireball crashed just‍‌ beside where she‌ had been, and‍ a pillar of⁠‌‌ flame shot up.‍‍

Bang!‍

A surge of searing​​‌ heat exploded. The⁠⁠​ spot hit by​ the spell was‍‍‌ reduced to flying⁠ black ash. A direct hit would​‍ have meant instant‍​‌ death—or something close⁠⁠‍ to it. The‍ power was undeniable.​⁠

With‌‌‍ trembling eyes, Diella​‍ looked toward Dereck,‌⁠ who was casually‍ brushing dust off⁠⁠ his now-cooled hand.⁠‌‍

His​⁠ eyelids flicked as​‌ he glanced at​⁠ her, then he⁠ muttered to himself.‌

“Missed.”​

A chill ran down​⁠‍ Diella’s entire body.‍

***‌​​

Crack!⁠⁠ Bang!

Diella‌‌ fled into the‍‍ forest.

Dereck,⁠‍ walking slowly across‍‍⁠ the meadow, seemed‍ to treat it‌⁠⁠ like a hunting​ game, showing no⁠ urgency. Beneath the⁠ moonlight, his lifted⁠‌‍ lips and glowing⁠‌ red eyes only‌ deepened the terror.​

Bang!⁠ Thump!

Diella‍ stumbled as her‌‍⁠ legs buckled. She⁠⁠‌ forced herself up‍‍ and fled deeper⁠ into the forest,‍‌‍ but she couldn’t‌‍⁠ put much distance​‌‌ between them.

Crack!‌‍⁠ Thump!

Somehow,‌​​ she forced her⁠‌‍ way through the‍‌⁠ underbrush. Still, she​ had to go⁠ farther.

But⁠​ her fear-weakened legs‍ wouldn’t obey.

‘Move…!⁠‌ Move, move, move…!‌⁠⁠ Please…!’

Swish!‍​

Bang!‍‌​ Bang! Bang!

Waves⁠‌‍ of magical energy‌‌ shattered the surrounding‌‍‍ branches. Level one⁠‌ attack spell—Magic Arrow.​‌ And it was⁠ a triple shot.‍⁠ Even among level‍‌ one mages, mastery​⁠‍ varied. A single⁠ hit would be⁠ too much for‌⁠‍ fragile Diella.

“Didn’t‌⁠⁠ hit…?”

From‌‍ behind the bushes,‌‍​ Dereck’s cold voice⁠ rang out. Fortunately,​ Diella was small.⁠ The darkness that‌ blanketed the forest​​ was on her‍ side.

Rodents⁠⁠​ scurried through the⁠ brush, and wind-rustled⁠⁠​ leaves filled the​​‌ air.

In‌⁠ such conditions, finding‍ Diella hidden among⁠​​ the shrubs wouldn’t⁠‍⁠ be easy.

Step,⁠ step, step.

The⁠ madman’s footsteps reached‍⁠ Diella’s ears.

Just‌​ behind the bushes​‍​ in front of‌‌ her, Dereck searched,​‌​ slicing through branches‍ with his sword.​‍

Diella‍ shoved her hand‍‍ into her mouth,⁠​ holding her breath‍​‍ to avoid making‍‍ any sound.

Humming​ to himself, Dereck​ searched her possible‌​ hiding spots like‌⁠‌ a predator hunting‍‌‌ prey.

Bang.⁠‌‌

Finally,​​ Dereck’s boot appeared​ just meters from‍​‍ where Diella lay‌‌ in the brush.‍‌​ The surrounding darkness‍⁠ was so thick‍ that even night-acclimated‍⁠​ eyes could barely⁠​ see.

Diella‍ clamped down on‍​ her heart, which⁠​ felt like it⁠ would explode any​⁠ second, as she​​‍ covered her mouth.‌ Even though she‍‌​ was still, her​‌ lower lip trembled​‌ uncontrollably, and her‍‌‍ breathing became erratic.⁠⁠ She didn’t know‍‍ whether she was⁠ inhaling or exhaling.​

After‌‍ a while, Dereck’s‍‌⁠ steps swept the⁠‌ area, then receded‌​ farther into the‍‍‍ forest.

Gasp…⁠ Gasp…

As​‍‍ the distance slowly​⁠ grew, Diella finally‍⁠ had the luxury​‌ to gather her⁠⁠ thoughts.

‘I‌⁠⁠ have to run‌ back to the​⁠ mansion…! But if‌​⁠ I run across​ the open meadow,⁠ his magic will​ hit me…! Then‌ what? I can⁠‌‌ hide for now,⁠ but eventually, he’ll‌‍ catch me…!’

Clutching‍‌⁠ her head in‍‌‍ the darkness, she‌‌⁠ crouched low, trying⁠ to calm her⁠⁠​ pounding heart.

‘Calm​⁠ down, calm down,⁠⁠⁠ calm down. There‌ has to be​ a way. There​‌⁠ has to be‍‌‍ a way…!’

Finally,‍‍ she spotted a large rock. Almost‍ the size of‍‌ her head. She‌‍ crawled toward it⁠⁠ and, upon touching​‌ it, found it​ heavy but manageable.‍

Thank⁠ goodness night had​‍⁠ fallen. The darkness​​‍ shrouding the forest‍ would perfectly conceal‍‍ her small body,⁠ making it easier‌⁠ to stay hidden.‌ It was the⁠ perfect setting for‌‌ an ambush.

Against​​ a strong man,‌​ weak Diella had‍​⁠ no chance. Especially‍‌​ if he was‍​​ truly a two-star‍‌ mage, resistance was​ futile. In the‍ end, the answer‌‌‌ was a surprise‍⁠ attack from the​‌​ shadows.

If‍​ she could catch‌‍​ him off guard,⁠​⁠ she might create⁠​ an opening—maybe even‍​ knock him unconscious.⁠

Hidden‌ in the dark,⁠ she waited for⁠‌ a chance to⁠‌ strike when his‍ guard was down.⁠⁠

This​​​ was her only⁠⁠⁠ shot at victory.⁠⁠ Though trembling, Diella⁠‌ dragged the rock‌‍ to the edge‍‌ of the shrubs.‌

She‍‌ gripped it with⁠‍⁠ both hands, ready​ to lift it‍‍ at any moment.​ For that, she‍⁠ sharpened her senses⁠‌‌ in the darkness.‍‍​

But⁠ the more focused⁠ she became, the‍‌⁠ more fear took‍⁠ hold of her‌‌ heart.

Drip,​‌‍ drip, drip.

Tears​⁠‌ fell onto the‌⁠ rock. She bit‍‌​ her lip hard​‌‌ to stifle her⁠‍‌ sobs, too weak‌‌‍ even to wipe‍⁠‌ away the large⁠ droplets.

‘Don’t‍‌ cry, don’t cry,​ don’t cry. No⁠​‍ noise.’

She​⁠​ suppressed her rising⁠⁠ emotions with reason.​‌ The thought that⁠‍ she might die​⁠ here brought a flood of memories.‌ Times when she‌‌‍ laughed and chatted,‍ ran through the​‍ courtyard, or went​ out with canvas⁠​ and easel to​​ paint the landscape…​​ Moments of innocent⁠⁠ joy.

Then⁠ came the memories‌​ of failure and‍⁠ frustration. Abandonment by​ her brothers, pitiful‍‌ glances from her‌​‌ family, her own⁠ missteps, constant effort,‍​ failure, and more⁠ failure. The servants’‍⁠​ pitying eyes, gossiping⁠‌ that she had⁠ nothing going for​‌ her but her​ looks, and harsh‍‍⁠ comments from nobles​‍​ who said she⁠ was lucky just⁠‌ to be born‌​ Duplain.

And​‌ finally, the harsh‍‍​ reality that her⁠‌ noble blood was⁠ the only thing‍‍ she had left‍‌‍ to show.

‘I​‍‍ can do this.⁠​‍ I can do⁠⁠ this. I can⁠‍ do this…!’

Pushing​‌‌ away the negative⁠ memories, Diella clenched​ her teeth. She‍​​ would ambush the‌‌⁠ madman and somehow‌ return to the⁠‌ mansion. The forest’s‌ darkness was on‍ her side.

Just​‍ then, her resolve‍ hardened—

Spark!⁠

The‌⁠ darkness of the‌ forest—her only ally—vanished.​

“Light​​⁠ Manifestation”—Transformation Spell, Class⁠⁠ 1.

An‌‍ enormous source of​​‌ light bloomed behind‍ the shrubs, illuminating‍ everything nearby. The​ reason mages are⁠‌‍ considered the most⁠ reliable allies among⁠ mercenaries is their‌‍‍ adaptability—capable of dominating⁠​⁠ any battlefield. In⁠‌⁠ particular, Dereck excelled​⁠‍ at controlling the⁠ battlefield.

But‍ for Diella, it⁠‍‍ was a devastating​ surprise. The darkness‍​ she relied on​​‍ was completely gone.‍‌‌

Gasp…!​​⁠

Her​‍ plan to hide⁠⁠​ in the shadows‍ was ruined. Deciding⁠​⁠ she had to​​ flee instead, Diella​⁠ started to rise‍‍⁠ when—

The⁠ white-haired madman, a glowing orb floating‍⁠ beside him, suddenly‌​ turned his head‍​‍ toward her.

“Found​ you.”

The⁠ boy grinned widely.‍‍‍

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