Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 139: 4-star (4)

I remember the first time I opened my eyes in a corner of the slums. That was the moment Dereck’s journey began.

Without warning, he was thrown into a hostile environment where he had to scavenge just to survive. As he struggled to endure it, a question naturally engraved itself into his young mind.

It wasn’t a deep question, nor something that would help him survive, but it was something everyone wonders at least once in their lives.

Why do we live?

It was a trivial question the boy asked himself while chewing a piece of hard rye bread, sitting in a corner of the street and gazing up at the sea of stars in the sky.

It was a cold street.

There were so many beggars lying on the ground that no one passing by paid any attention to Dereck—but he kept looking at the sky, his eyes shining brightly.

*

Bang! Crash!

The figure of Dereck, who had just stood up, vanished in an instant.

Grand Duke Beltus frowned and looked around. In that brief moment, Dereck had used illusion magic to erase his presence and hide among the rubble, seeking to take the Grand Duke by surprise.

He was already an experienced mercenary.

He instinctively knew that facing a grandmaster-level mage head-on was suicide.

No matter how damaged Fina had left him, Grand Duke Beltus was still a five-star mage, responsible for an entire noble house. To defeat him, one had to use every possible trick—not just raw magical skill.

Battlefield coordination and improvisation were Dereck’s specialties.

The Grand Duke, who had more or less grasped this, immediately cast a defensive spell over his entire body the moment Dereck’s figure disappeared.

He didn’t know from where or how the attack would come. The only certainty was that as long as he didn’t allow a critical hit, Dereck could never surpass him.

Whoosh!

Beyond the shattered outer wall, a fireball from Dereck came flying inside.

However, any magic below two-star level could be dispelled and nullified with a single glance.

Grand Duke Beltus possessed the ability to control magic with his eyes alone.

It was a unique method of Beltus’s own—something even veteran mages could not easily master.

It’s a common trait among those who reach the four-star rank or higher the way they manipulate magic through their own interpretation lies beyond ordinary talent.

Snap!

However, Dereck’s true intention was to draw Beltus’s gaze.

Leaping from the rubble, Dereck lunged at him with his sword drawn. His jump was so fast that by the time someone blinked, the blade was already right in front of him.

Clang!

But the two-star combat spell Protective Wall had the power to nullify physical impact in proportion to the caster’s magic.

The sword, blocked right before the Grand Duke, trembled violently.

“Do you think you can defeat me with such pathetic tricks?”

Bang!

The Light of the Empire in Beltus’s hands shone once more.

In an instant, the shockwave it released hurled Dereck against the wall. Dust rose as Dereck coughed in pain.

Even so, he stood up and widened the distance between them.

Was it a retreat? Or was he trying to lure him in? It wasn’t clear, but the Grand Duke had no choice but to pursue.

He could already feel it. If he didn’t kill that monster right then, he couldn’t imagine how powerful he might become in the future.

Even before a five-star mage, Dereck’s mind was constantly turning—searching for openings, adapting, refining his use of magic, attempting to overturn the situation.

His sensitivity to magic was high, and his rate of growth abnormally fast.

Who could doubt it? That monster had the potential to reach at least five stars.

It was a great fortune to encounter him while he was still a three-star mage, momentarily stagnant after hitting a wall.

If the opportunity had arisen to tear him out by the roots, it had to be taken.

And so, Grand Duke Beltus dashed down the corridor, chasing Dereck.

Boom! Bang!

Dereck cast confusion magic, scattering illusions everywhere.

Though numerous illusory doubles appeared, created by the confusion magic, Beltus—who also mastered detection spells—was not deceived.

Arrows flew, swords clashed against his body, but he ignored them all.

He already anticipated they would vanish the moment they touched him.

Dereck crossed the half-destroyed corridor of the second floor and opened the door leading to the outer stairs.

– Groooh!

But what appeared before him was a giant demon.

The sight of its massive face closing in was pure terror.

The hellish demon, moving under Beltus’s command, had already been waiting, knowing he would try to escape through there.

Its eyes gleamed, and soon a gigantic fist came crashing down toward him.

– Booom!

Struck by the impact, Dereck rolled once across the floor.

Bursting through the dust, he sprinted at full speed toward the lower floor.

“What a pleasure to see you run!”

The Grand Duke, wrapped in magic, floated and pursued him downward.

Even if he had to abandon everything, he was determined to kill him right there.

With that resolve, he plunged after him.

– Fwoosh! Thud!

Dereck threw himself into the first-floor corridor, rolled, and kept moving.

The corridor on the second floor was almost completely destroyed, but the first floor still retained some of the luxury of a noble mansion.

Of course, the carpet was stained with monster tracks, and furniture lay scattered across the floor.

– Clang! Bang!

Suddenly, all the windows along the long corridor shattered at once, and a swarm of bat-like monsters burst in.

It was impossible to count how many creatures Grand Duke Beltus controlled.

Each was imbued with magical power, and yet they all seemed to move as one.

When Dereck cast the two-star combat spell Fireball down the corridor, many began to burn and disintegrate, but the number flooding in far exceeded those destroyed.

Wielding his longsword, Dereck cut down the monsters one after another until the Grand Duke finally appeared at the far end.

He had entered floating through a window.

“Your words sounded grand, but you’re nothing more than a coward running away. I’ll end your life here…”

– Bang!

Before the Grand Duke could finish his sentence, the ceiling collapsed.

Startled by the sudden attack, he tried to deploy a defensive spell but couldn’t deflect all the falling debris.

‘An ambush… reinforcements…?’

The mansion’s entrance was blocked by the Archlich.

At this point, there shouldn’t have been any enemies left capable of intervening.

However, among the remains of the second-floor corridor were clear traces of magical energy.

But when he looked up, there was no one there.

Only then did Dereck’s eyes fall on the staff he held.

‘Echoes…’

The staff, crafted by a transmutation artisan from the northern Rochester region, had the ability to re-manifest a spell after a brief delay once cast.

The fireball Dereck had launched in the second-floor corridor wasn’t intended to subdue Grand Duke Beltus directly.

By exploiting the power of Echoes, he had re-manifested the fireball with a timed delay to collapse the building’s foundations.

By casting the spell with that delay, he succeeded in luring Grand Duke Beltus into the first-floor corridor, causing him to be buried beneath the debris.

Crackle! Bang!

Of course, the rubble alone wasn’t enough to subdue him. His defensive magic was powerful enough to easily withstand such weight.

However, his attention briefly shifted toward the second floor.

That single instant of distraction.

In a situation where the outcome could be decided in a fraction of a second, even the slightest lapse could lead to an irreversible result.

When Grand Duke Beltus turned his gaze forward again, Dereck had already drawn his sword and was lunging at him.

His movement was like lightning. The speed and lack of hesitation showed that everything had been meticulously calculated.

In that instant, lasting only a hundredth of a second—that fleeting moment when time seemed to stop—the Grand Duke’s mind began to accelerate.

Even with necromantic madness consuming his thoughts and his body on the verge of collapse, the master-level mage never stopped thinking.

The falling debris. Dereck closing in.

If he had to defend against one first, it had to be the latter.

Instinctive reflexes.

Despite his old and weary body, and his years away from the battlefield, his combat instincts surged through him once more.

If he blocked Dereck’s attack, he couldn’t stop the debris.

But Dereck would be buried along with him.

Better both buried, he thought, than allowing a one-sided strike.

With that decision, he prepared to unleash a shockwave toward Dereck.

Whoosh!

But the moment the duke’s magic touched him, the figure of Dereck lunging forward with sword in hand dissolved into magical energy and vanished. It was an illusion spell.

Even in such an extreme situation, that madman had thrown in another feint.

To foresee even the unforeseen—to respond to the response—the ability to see one step ahead is an indispensable skill for a duelist.

Had he only done it to prevent the Grand Duke from blocking the falling debris by forcing him to react to the illusion?

Beltus realized his intent too late and turned his gaze upward to try and halt the collapse.

– Thud!

However, Dereck was one step ahead.

A sword protruded from Grand Duke Beltus’s shoulder.

His eyes widened, and he looked back.

Even if both were buried beneath the rubble, that strike was fatal.

Dereck took another step and drove the blade in once more. The attack from behind was impossible to block.

In that situation, he too would be caught under the collapse.

But if he could land a truly deadly blow, it was worth the risk.

If he could claim the bone, he was willing to sacrifice the flesh.

The reckless spirit of that young, blood-soaked mercenary was unlike that of a noble who had too much to lose.

“You’re… a damn… lunatic…”

Blood spurted from the pierced shoulder.

– Crash! Bang!

The debris from the second floor collapsed over them both.

*

– Rustle.

The sound of dust falling over the heap of ruins echoed faintly.

The collapsed remains had broken through the hallway floor, sinking all the way into the basement.

Starlight filtered through the shattered ceiling, and a presence emerged from among the rubble.

– Crack, Thud! Boom!

Duke Beltus, with a wound in his shoulder, groaned as he rose.

Blood gushed out, and his legs wouldn’t respond.

His luxurious noble attire was covered in dust and blood; his broken body creaked audibly.

Even so, he was still alive. Somehow, the protective magic he had cast had managed to preserve his limbs.

– Crack! Thud!

But as soon as he emerged from the heap of ruins, his knees gave out.

The necromantic madness threatened to consume his mind once again, and the veins across his body burned like fire.

His body was shattered, his mana nearly depleted, the mansion collapsing, the gathered armies scattered, and the monsters running amok.

Amid all that chaos, the duke’s blood coursed violently through his veins.

He had to endure, to overcome this crisis, and take one more step toward the ambition he had pursued all his life.

Thinking only of that, he clenched his teeth and endured.

That was how Duke Beltus had accumulated power.

“Cough, gasp… gasp…”

He caught the scent of grapes.

It was the underground wine cellar. The debris from the first-floor hallway had fallen all the way down to the basement.

Broken bottles covered the floor, and the wine spilling from the barrels soaked the ground like blood.

The red liquid running down his hand—was it wine or blood? Or both?

He didn’t know, but he had to stay conscious.

“Gasp, cough… ugh…”

Beltus brushed the hair from his forehead with a hand soaked in wine and pressed against his bleeding shoulder.

His vision was blurring.

He struck his face with his fist to keep from passing out.

Boom!

Crash!

But another figure forced its way through the wreckage and stood behind him.

There was no need to identify him—it was the monster who had fallen with him into the depths.

Red eyes gleamed beneath white hair. Wine stained the tips of his boots, and blood covered his face.

He had a broken fingernail and a deep scar crossing his left eyebrow, perhaps crushed by debris. The sword was gone.

But the man didn’t care and leapt from the wreckage, striking Duke Beltus across the face.

– Thud!

“Ugh!”

The duke fell to the floor, sliding, but managed to gather magic and released a shockwave toward Dereck’s feet.

– Thud!

A situation pushed to the very limit.

Even so, magic flared from his fingertips, summoning a sword that pierced Dereck’s shoulder and thigh.

The blow landed cleanly, piercing through him.

Blood burst forth, and Dereck rolled across the wine-soaked floor, groaning.

“You… bastard… do you even know who you’re talking to…?”

Just by summoning a few swords, Beltus coughed up blood.

Every spell he cast now clung directly to his life itself.

Even on the verge of collapse, the man—like a moving corpse—did not stop.

He ripped the sword from his own flesh, opened his eyes wide in fury, and lunged forward, grabbing the duke by the throat.

He slammed him to the ground, seized a fallen sword—but Beltus tripped him.

Crash! Bang!

Dereck, sprawled on the floor, tried to rise, but he was already at his limit.

The Grand Duke twisted his bloodied lips into a crooked grin and also tried to get up, reaching for the fallen sword—but Dereck hurled a nearby stone.

– Thud!

The sharp rock struck his hand, leaving a deep wound.

As Beltus staggered back with a groan, Dereck, barely standing, rammed into him with his shoulder.

– Thud! Thud!

He threw himself on top of him and struck his nose several times.

Blood splattered, and a tooth rolled across the floor.

Yet the duke, bloodied and dazed, managed to gather magic and pushed Dereck away.

He kicked him in the stomach, stomped on his thigh, and raised the blade to finish him.

Blood splashed, and wine spilled.

Red liquid flowed from a shattered barrel.

The fight in that basement was no different from the brawls that happened in the slums.

And yet, both men were established nobles.

With trembling hands, Duke Beltus picked up a dagger, but Dereck, who suddenly rose, grabbed his wrist.

The duke didn’t let go of the weapon. With shaking hands, he tried to stab him however he could, but Dereck blocked the motion with sheer grip strength.

Dereck’s nails dug into the duke’s wrist, and blood dripped down.

Beltus clenched his teeth and screamed, but his body no longer obeyed him.

“Die. Die! You damned… die…!”

“…”

Two men struggled over a single dagger.

At that moment, Dereck, his eyes wide open, spoke.

“I suppose you don’t have enough strength left to use magic.”

“…”

“How pitiful.”

In that instant, a chill ran down Grand Duke Beltus’s spine.

Even in the middle of such an extreme situation, where both their lives hung by a thread, that madman was still observing and absorbing his magic.

– Bang!

At that moment, a first-level combat spell, Shockwave, shot straight into the Grand Duke’s abdomen.

Beltus was sent flying, crashing against a wine barrel, and rolled across the floor.

The wine seeping from the barrel soaked his shoulder.

His trembling pupils slowly rose from the river of blood toward the young wolf.

That man was insane.

He had climbed to that point driven solely by the desire to master magic, and it was impossible to comprehend the fervor within him that bordered on madness.

“Cough… cough… cough…”

Dereck, too, was barely standing, coughing as if his body no longer obeyed him.

He stumbled several times, his feet slipping, and had to push himself up from the ground again and again.

Even so, he straightened completely without changing his expression.

In his hand, he held a dagger.

The man staggering toward him was Death itself—the Reaper come to end the long path of Grand Duke Beltus.

When that reality became clear, the duke’s toes began to tremble uncontrollably.

“You… damned lunatic…”

“…”

“Why… why are you so obsessed… with magic…?”

Dereck’s cold gaze pierced Grand Duke Beltus.

The latter tried to move his battered body, but even the wine running down his shoulders felt unbearably heavy.

“Magic… was just a means to rise for someone as low-born as you, wasn’t it…?”

“…”

“Then I’ll do as you wish. Take my hand… I’ll show you what true power is…”

The stench of death filled the air.

It was so thick—more pungent and dense than the scent of grapes saturating the cellar.

The duke’s sharp sense of smell didn’t overlook that abominable fear.

With trembling hands, he propped himself on the floor and spoke to Dereck.

“If you wish to learn magic… I can help you reach the highest peaks… I am the master of Beltus…”

“…”

“Your skill and talent… have already been proven beyond doubt. Your courage and determination… you possess the qualities of a ruler… Trust me and take my hand… I’ll guide you to the summit…”

“Why are you so obsessed with magic?”

Dereck staggered and slowly approached.

– Clang! Clang!

He let the dagger in his hand fall. It rolled weakly across the floor, disappearing into the river of wine.

Soon, Dereck’s hand was imbued with magical energy.

Could he still use magic?

Duke Beltus clicked his tongue in disbelief.

After scraping the very bottom of his energy, all that should have remained was pure willpower.

Only by drawing out every last drop of power from the body through superhuman will can one reach the next level.

That was what the duke had demonstrated throughout the battle.

Not bound by the magical system established by Adelbert, but rising above it—touching the very essence of magic itself.

Clashes of swords, collisions of spells—the sensation that touched the man’s senses flickered through his memory.

It was incredible that Dereck still had enough energy to channel magic.

He had already suffered multiple fatal wounds, his body was covered in cuts, and blood wouldn’t stop flowing.

And yet, he tried to unleash a spell beyond one or two stars in level.

From that point onward, it might well cost him his life.

Everything in the world has a price.

But Dereck, without hesitation, squeezed out the last of his energy, trying to manifest everything he had ever seen, heard, and felt.

Was it a spinning lantern? Or a dream?

Come to think of it, he had always been gazing at the starry sky.

In the corners of the slums, on tavern streets, by the roadside, in the barony.

The people beside him might have changed, but the scenery always seemed the same.

Each time, the people beside him asked similar questions.

An old man in the slums once asked.

“Dereck, why do you study magic?”

The boy eating hard bread replied.

“Just to survive.”

A fallen noblewoman wandering the streets asked him.

“Dereck, why do you work so hard to learn magic?”

The boy, already starting to resemble a mercenary, answered.

“To become stronger.”

An old wandering mage, worn by hardship, once asked.

“What do you intend to achieve by learning magic this way?”

The man, who was beginning to make a name for himself as a magic instructor, replied.

“Because it’s fun.”

The answer changed every time. It couldn’t be helped.

As he grew, matured, survived, became stronger, and his circumstances improved, his reasons for seeking higher levels of magic varied—but the outcome of moving forward was always the same.

In that context, answering Grand Duke Beltus’s question was not difficult at all.

No long explanation was necessary.

When asked why he was so obsessed with magic, he felt the answer had been decided long ago.

When he had awakened in the streets of the slums, thrown into a cold world without rules or direction.

That naïve boy had wondered why he had to live.

Perhaps he had already understood it back then.

To live well, it’s good to be obsessed with something.

A life without purpose or ambition lacks drive.

So he decided to be obsessed with magic.

That’s why, when people asked him why he clung so tightly to magical success, there was no grand answer.

“Just because.”

That was all.

Grand Duke Beltus’s eyes widened.

An incomprehensible fear—like that felt before a being beyond all logic and understanding—seized him.

When humans sense death drawing near, they often cry.

He clenched his teeth, searching for a way out—but there was none.

Crackle, pop! Whoosh!

In Dereck’s perception, the magical system intertwined, soon radiating light.

The magical energy at his arm’s tip was familiar—and he deliberately shattered it.

Three-star combat magic, Freeze.

He knew the sensation of the magical flow, but he forcibly twisted and distorted it, combining the methods of illusion and summoning magic.

Beyond the rules established by Adelbert, when one gazes directly into the essence of magic, an entirely new landscape reveals itself.

The euphoria that swept through his entire body upon reaching that limit could not be compared to any extreme narcotic.

Crackle, Pop!

It felt as if his whole body were burning and electricity was crackling through him.

To use magic of such scale with a body at its limit would inevitably bring aftereffects—he knew it.

But he couldn’t stop now that he had come this far.

Dereck’s eyes glowed with a strange light, and the magical energy radiating from him began to envelop the entire underground cellar.

In that instant, Grand Duke Beltus felt an unfamiliar chill.

Then, with a deafening roar, Dereck’s magical energy exploded.

*

“It’s gotten colder. Is it winter?”

Fina, who had just stepped out of the forest, stretched lazily.

She planned to pass through a nearby village, take a horse, and return to the Ravenclaw Barony—yes, that was the extent of her brazen thoughts.

Seeing her so relaxed after the catastrophe she had caused at the Beltus mansion made it clear she was far from a normal person.

Even she was beginning to believe the saying that there were no sane six-star mages.

As she walked through the clearing under the moonlight, she glanced toward the distant Beltus mansion.

The hellscape, covered in rampaging monsters and restless spirits, was just to her liking. She wondered when she’d next get to enjoy such chaos.

But the mansion’s appearance had changed drastically since she left.

The moon shone brightly.

The main building, revealed beneath the silvery light, was completely frozen.

“Now that looks much better.”

Four-star combat magic—Large-Scale Spatial Freeze.

A spell that stopped not only its surroundings but the entire battlefield—something only seen during the Great Northern War.

At that time, it was Melverot who used it, and wartime magic had always been distinguished by its colossal scale.

“♬ ♩♪”

Humming a tune, Fina left the mansion behind.

She crossed the clearing at an unhurried pace and disappeared into the darkness.

The sight of the frozen mansion under the moonlight was beautiful.

Considering the horrors unfolding within, the contrast was truly ironic.

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