Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 110: The Beginning (1)

“These are the three necromancy books recovered from the Belmierd family. I heard that the sacrificial sorcerers of Rodentz Island revered them as sacred scriptures.”

“Good work, Rubric.”

In the central part of Gremfort Palace, where Emperor Gattrel resided, the three necromancy books were placed in the personal study of the chief magical advisor.

“Indeed, if the magical power is not properly incinerated, it will become a great problem in the future.”

The position of chief magical advisor, the highest academic authority among the royal mages, was held by Kohella Deinalt Elvester, a 6-star transformation mage, even before Emperor Gattrel’s ascension to the throne.

The elderly mage, said to have reached the pinnacle of transformation magic, mastered various forms of sorcery. For this reason, she was the first to examine magical artifacts that were difficult to handle.

In her vast magical study, the largest in the entirety of the sprawling Gremfort Palace, various magical weapons were lined up.

Each one easily exceeded the value of a mansion, and some were beyond the reach even of the wealthiest nobles.

Transformation mages excelled in the creation of magical equipment and weapons.

Among them, the meticulously crafted weapons of Kohella, a 6-star transformation mage, held astronomical value.

In a world where magic was the symbol of power, she stood at the top of the magical hierarchy.

The elderly mage sat alone in the corner of her study, leafing through the book known as the necromancy tome of Rodentz Island.

Though its content was monotonous, the magical energy infused within it was undeniably extraordinary.

It was not the first time she encountered research books of necromancers scattered across the continent. However, the grimoires circulating near Rodentz Island were of a different quality compared to those written by amateurs.

The name of the creator was recorded as ‘Sinia,’ but it was obvious this was a pseudonym.

This creator was someone Kohella had desperately tried to trace, but not a single clue had been found over the years.

Not even Drest, a 6-star search mage, had been able to completely evade Kohella’s tracking.

It wasn’t simply a matter of hiding well; the degree of concealment was such that it seemed impossible to find that person. At times, she even wondered if they truly existed.

Even so, over the years, by following the traces of the research books of the necromancer known as Sinia, Kohella was able to partially interpret her intentions.

She was exerting influence over necromancers scattered across the continent, including Rodentz Island, and what she was researching was the resurrection of corpses.

‘If it were only about making a corpse move, that wouldn’t be difficult with the current level of necromancy. But a necromancer of that caliber wouldn’t be studying something so simple.’

What Sinia was researching was the power to fully utilize a corpse, making it manifest the same abilities it had in life.

That too was possible, to some extent, with the current level of necromancy. However, if the abilities of the corpse surpassed a certain threshold, it could not display its full power with the magical energy of an ordinary necromancer.

The necromancer under the pseudonym Sinia was researching a forbidden art that would allow her to revive any corpse at its maximum power, collecting all kinds of research books and practical data.

Then, who exactly did she plan to revive?

Upon reviewing her research books, they were filled with references to the traces of the great demon ‘Noir,’ who had devastated the north.

In that case, it was not hard to draw a conclusion.

‘There was a great mage who died while attempting to subdue the great demon Noir in the north.’

The 6-star combat mage Kalimford, who was said to be able to summon meteors and reshape the map.

Among the 6-star mages, of whom it was joked that none were mentally sound, he was one of the few considered wise and kind.

He had already vanished into the annals of history, resting in his grave.

‘Does she plan to revive Kalimford?’

The mere existence of a 6-star necromancer was an omen of great disaster, and if she managed to revive a 6-star combat mage to use as a puppet, who knew what kind of calamity would occur.

Kohella inhaled deeply and sank into her thoughts.

It was still joked that there was no 6-star mage who was sane.

Regrettably, Kohella herself, the one alluded to, agreed.

In the research hall of the chief magical advisor, in Gremfort Palace of the central continent, shadows flickered as the candle on the desk wavered.

The elderly mage, absorbed in reading grimoires among splendid artifacts, was Kohella, a 6-star transformation-type mage.

*

In the north, in the Duchy of Rochester, snow fell softly.

In an office, resting her chin on one hand and crossing her legs, quietly gazing at the snowy landscape, was Melverot, a 6-star combat mage.

On the eastern plains, a warm wind swept across the land.

The edge of a tattered robe fluttered. Climbing a serene hill, a figure suddenly turned to gaze at the open landscape—Drest, a 6-star search mage.

And in the southeast of the continent, in the Barony of Tigris, where barley fields and mountain ranges stretched wide.

Beneath the bright blue sky, a young girl shaded her eyes from the blinding sunlight with her hand. She was sitting on a large rock.

In one arm she carried a basket full of flowers she had gathered early on the hillside.

With her other hand, she reached out to block the sunlight, but soon blinked, dazzled by its intensity.

“Leonard must have been captured as well. It was inevitable.”

She murmured softly as she brushed back her hair.

The tips of her hair, flowing in gentle waves, seemed to wrap around her waist.

Its color was primarily silver-gray, but under the sun it took on a mysterious hue between violet and blue. Her eyes also reflected a blend of blue and purple, a color that would captivate anyone.

“That’s enough! You can stop picking flowers and come down! Father has something important to tell you!”

From the foot of the hill, the voice of the Baroness Tigris called her. As a rural noble of little power, the baroness, with her sleeves rolled up, also radiated a strong impression of a working woman.

The young girl, when called, responded with a gentle smile and lightly descended the path.

The azaleas she had gathered in the mountain were fragrant.

Their scent lingered wherever she passed.

*

To my esteemed teacher Katia,

Autumn has now fully arrived. It seems I’ve decided to inform you of my situation once per season, but with such a busy life, even this feels rather frequent.

Being busy is a good thing, so I should feel encouraged. However, if you ask me whether everything is going well, I cannot say that it is.

It isn’t good to begin a letter with gloomy words, so I will first share the good news.

The construction of the Ravenclaw Training Center is finished, and it seems we will soon be able to properly host noble ladies in the mansion.

The scale is greater than expected, so we will be quite busy.

Of course, we have hired assistant instructors and renowned professors of magic at great cost, but many come because of my name, so I cannot simply ignore them.

I have been playing the role of teacher, something that was not in my destiny, for quite some time, and when I realized it, I already had many students and felt that I had strayed quite far from the life path I had planned.

All I wanted was to become a higher-level mage. Still, teaching others is like teaching myself, so it also helps me in my magical training.

By the time I noticed, Lady Aiselin had already expanded the work, and now we have six proper administrative staff and nine teaching staff.

For tea ceremony, continental ancient language, and string instruments, Lady Aiselin seems to have hired outside instructors, as it was difficult for her to teach those subjects herself. For magic, we hired some plebeian-born teachers who seem capable of teaching the fundamentals, so I am relieved.

The situation is somewhat overwhelming, but considering the income that is about to arrive, I am also quite satisfied. High-ranking nobles seem to open their purses with ease.

After the grand opening ceremony in four days, it seems there will be quite a lot of people here. This period may be considered my last rest.

That was the good news, and now I should tell you the bad. Recently, Lady Ellen has been acting very uncomfortably around me.

I wondered if perhaps she also liked me, but I did not dare to test it, fearing I would seem like a delusional patient.

She is a lady of the Belmierd family, who can choose to meet any promising young man from a decent family. She would not be impressed by a mere baron, so I reflected on whether I had been rude.

After careful reflection, I realize that during the uproar in the Belmierd mansion, I committed several acts of discourtesy in my own way.

The urgency of the situation made me forget to show the respect due to the authority of the Belmierd family, and I thought that from now on I must strictly adhere to hierarchical etiquette.

Even if I have formed a master-disciple bond with Lady Ellen, I cannot ignore secular authority… From now on, I must not mistakenly think we are close or informal, but maintain strict hierarchy and respond with formality.

The culture of the nobility is, indeed, something difficult to grasp.

I must always remain alert and reflect much on myself.

And I have personal concerns regarding my magical achievements. In fact, this is the greatest problem.

I feel I am about to master level 3-star magic, but I have no idea how to take the step toward level 4-star.

Of course, my teacher would say that being at level 3 at my age is already an incredible achievement and that I should be humble, but from my perspective, I always want to go higher, and that troubles me.

If you know someone who can teach 4-star magic, could you write me a letter of recommendation?

The high-level mages I know personally are not the type to teach others, so it is quite a difficult situation. If you have any contact in mind, I would be grateful if you introduced me.

This letter has become longer than expected.

I am not a talkative person, but when I write to Teacher Katia, my pen never seems to stop.

Is everything going well with Count Elvester?

If the opportunity arises, I look forward to the day we may meet.

From the Baron of Ravenclaw,

Dereck Lydorf Ravenclaw.

“…”

Dereck pondered whether there was anything else to add as he set the pen aside.

Creak.

“Ah, Dereck. Are you busy?”

“No. I was just writing a personal letter.”

“A personal letter…? This is the first time I’ve seen you so focused on writing something.”

Dereck nodded as a greeting, and Aiselin gestured with her hand to show it didn’t matter.

In any case, Aiselin was redefining her identity as a fallen noble and, in fact, resided in the Ravenclaw Barony.

Considering the value of the work she was doing, the word “reside” was not entirely appropriate.

“I was writing a letter to my teacher in the eastern continent. When I write to Teacher Katia, the content always ends up longer than expected.”

“I see. She must be someone very valuable to you.”

“That’s right. I received much help in my days of weakness.”

Said Dereck as he neatly folded the letter he had already finished.

Since his urgent return from the Belmierd mansion, there had truly been many things to attend to, and he was very busy.

It was understandable why Aiselin had called him so urgently. Of course, her haste was not only because of the piled-up work in the mansion, but from Dereck’s perspective, it was not something of great importance.

“In fact, the list of young ladies who will attend the upcoming opening ceremony has already been finalized. Since you have been busy and haven’t had the chance to review it, I arranged it so you could see it in advance.”

“Those kinds of documents could be handled by the administrative staff or the servants…”

“Are they not people I must teach directly? I must start memorizing their names right away! Ahem!”

Saying that, she rolled up her sleeves again and breathed with force, truly looking energetic.

Watching her silently, Dereck felt a strange pressure to muster energy as well.

He accepted the list and began reviewing the names.

“Viscount Rointel, Viscount Sidmer, Count Pluder, Baron Caldeorn, Baron Lodtek, Viscount Bleton…”

“…The list feels a bit imposing, doesn’t it? But they are all kind-hearted people…”

“Do you know them?”

“Half are people I’ve seen at social gatherings, and the other half I’ve heard of to some extent. Of course, I don’t know all the young ladies from small and distant families…”

In any case, Dereck also had to memorize those names.

As he scanned the list of the various families—

A familiar surname caught his attention.

“…!”

Dereck’s eyes widened slightly, and he held his breath.

He didn’t make a loud noise nor show great surprise. However, it was rare for him to show such a strong reaction.

He was someone who maintained composure even amid the collapse of the Duplain mansion.

Seeing such a reaction from Dereck was not easy, so even Aiselin was startled, trembling in surprise.

“Dereck?”

Aiselin called him, but received no answer.

Dereck leaned back in his chair, rested his chin on his palm, and sank into deep thought.

Could there truly be something in this world that unsettled this man, who fell behind no one in cold-bloodedness?

Even Aiselin, bewildered, had no choice but to wait for Dereck’s reply.

He had to look again at the list Aiselin had brought to make sure he hadn’t imagined it.

— Baron Tigris

The name of that family on the list was familiar to him.

The Tigris family was a typical rural border family. Which meant they were insignificant.

The territory was large, but mostly barren, and what remained were wheat fields. There were no major cities or towns in the baron’s domain, so he was more like a village chief than a feudal lord.

The head of the family, Leopold Oswin Tigris, was just an old soldier who had risen by luck… a former quartermaster.

It was a family that represented the archetype of the low nobility. Anyone would wonder why such a family would cause surprise.

However, the important part was not the name of the head of the family.

‘Fina Raffaella Tigris, baroness.’

Dereck brushed his fingers across his lips and fell into deep contemplation.

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