Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 162: Who are you a disciple of? (2)

“If I could, I would like to meet all of your disciples, Dereck. But if I go to see them myself, I would only put pressure on them. I have enough common sense to know that, so I plan to simply take a look around society and then leave. I am also curious to see how much Ebelstein society has changed.”

“The construction of the Ravenclaw Academy is almost finished. Will you be going to see that as well?”

“Of course. You said the land was in Duplain territory, right? With a bit of luck, I might even be able to meet Lady Diella in person.”

“That is true, but…”

Who was Diella?

She was famous for being someone whom, according to rumors, only Aiselin and Dereck could control in the entire world.

Although it was unlikely that she would bare her fangs even in front of Katia, there was a vague sense of unease.

“I am also interested in Lady Diella, but I wonder whether I will be able to meet Lady Aiselin as well. You see, Dereck. This teacher does not only want to see your disciples; the person I most wish to meet is Lady Aiselin.”

“You mean Lady Aiselin?”

“You always mention her in your letters. You say she has helped you greatly as a partner. Ever since I lived in Ebelstein, Aiselin was already famous for her prestige, her impeccable conduct, and her deep thoughtfulness. I wonder how mature she has become now.”

Katia had spent too long rolling through the aristocratic world to feel naïve admiration for an elegant young woman.

She had Freya, the most respected woman in eastern society, as her disciple; she was in no position to covet Aiselin.

And yet, she leaned forward with eyes lit with intensity and looked at Dereck seriously.

“Some time ago, we talked about your partner, remember?”

“…”

“I will be direct. If Lady Aiselin has retained the dignity she had back then, is there anyone more suitable to be a lifelong companion? Dereck, if you still have not made a decision, I will have no choice but to push you a little. They say women are better judges of other women. Trust this teacher’s eye.”

“A-ah… Teacher…”

“…Well, perhaps there is no need to rush that far just yet. First, I will have to observe her with my own eyes. Let us also take the opportunity to check on the state of the Ravenclaw Academy and go to Duplain territory. Will you be able to introduce me?”

Katia spoke calmly and elegantly, but from her presence emanated a pressure that was impossible to refuse.

She was like a flame that was cold and burning at the same time; when she insisted like that, Dereck had no choice but to nod.

At the end of the day, Katia would never allow her disciple to end up marrying just anyone.

Her attitude was practically that of an overly protective father or mother, though to Freya, who was watching from the side, it seemed somewhat intrusive.

It was not common to see Katia, always so serene and dignified, behaving this way, so she could only observe with a distant gaze.

Thus, Dereck had no choice but to head toward the Duplain mansion together with Katia, wishing inwardly that neither Leigh, nor Diella, nor Aiselin would be too taken aback.

***

“E-excuse me… Lady Trisha of the Renuel family has come in person…”

“…”

Trisha had been severely reprimanded by Countess Rodelia and was ordered to go immediately, even if only with a gift, to repair the damaged image.

That was how she arrived at Baron Ravenclaw’s residence.

She was already on the verge of tears, but she managed to compose herself, adopted an arrogant expression, and entered through the main gate demanding an audience.

But—

“Baron Ravenclaw has departed for the Duke Duplain’s residence together with Lady Katia.”

“…W-what?”

“Not long ago, actually…”

Trisha splashed water on her face and hurled a complaint at the heavens.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing was going right for her.

***

The young woman occasionally walked through the cemetery.

As she slowly strolled among the countless gravestones, she felt as if death were standing right in front of her.

Rain fell softly, and a damp wind brushed the tip of her nose.

She shook the accumulated water from the hem of her dress, and the moisture that remained on her hand seeped in like lingering regret.

Death, that final rest, was both near and far.

The mark of reincarnation engraved upon her soul showed no sign of fading.

Without an umbrella, she lifted her gaze toward the cloudy sky.

And then, memories of a distant past were about to surface.

An innocent time, when she did not even know what black mages were.

In that distant memory, there was something she could no longer recall clearly.

Why had she begun researching black magic in the first place?

The most powerful black mage on the continent.

The reaper who governs death.

A living disaster capable of plunging the entire world into terror merely by existing.

But now she no longer had ambitions.

She had no goals to fulfill.

Nothing to protect.

And whenever she seemed to find someone worthy of attachment, time eroded them until they disappeared.

Life burned like an intense flame, but there was no eternal fire.

She herself was nothing more than ashes after complete combustion.

Thus, in that cemetery where countless deaths stood in rows, Fina often mocked herself in that way.

How many years had she lived dragging along that gray life?

Fwoooosh!

And then, at last, heat ran once more through Fina’s frozen heart.

Black magic flooded the surroundings and began to completely fill the underground laboratory.

Fina’s laboratory, built beneath Tigris territory, was vast.

Even so, the density of black energy was such that it was difficult even to breathe.

The pinnacle of corpse-related black magic.

Advanced resurrection of bodies.

Raising the dead was never something simple.

The higher the level of the mage to be resurrected, the more the difficulty of the spell multiplied exponentially.

Even a five-star black mage would be exhausted after reviving a three-star mage, unable to use magic for some time.

Resurrecting a six-star mage was absolute madness.

Even for Fina, it had required investing an absurd number of years.

An extremely valuable vessel the corpse of a five-star mage.

A six-star caster.

Decades of accumulated effort.

Everything overlapped.

An impossible miracle was about to manifest.

Upon the research table of the underground laboratory.

The miserable, bloodstained scene was swept away by a tide of necromantic magic of every kind.

Fina’s pale lilac hair was also whipped about violently, and the hem of her dress began to thrash as if out of control.

Fina, who never tired even while manifesting an absurd amount of necromantic magic, was panting.

How long had it been since she last felt exhaustion from using magic?

Little by little, sweat began to well up, her breathing grew ragged, yet her face was smeared with a smile.

Decades? No, perhaps centuries?

Since when had she last felt something called euphoria?

That pleasure coursing through her chest—how long had it been since she felt it?

An immense euphoria, impossible to obtain from any liquor, completely filled Fina’s mind.

Death was approaching.

The legendary great mage and hero of the Empire.

Kalimford was arriving.

Kalimford, the hero of the War of Dawn who died after killing the great monster Noir, the one who tried to devour the north.

The Kalimford who could grant Fina eternal rest.

At last, the promise could be fulfilled.

The colossal necromantic magic surged with even greater violence, and Fina’s laboratory was engulfed in a gigantic radiance.

Boom! Thud!

Fwoooosh!

For an instant, it was as if the world itself rippled.

A being who had twisted the laws and surpassed even death rose up.

The body of Duke Beltus began to change shape little by little, until it finally transformed into the figure of that young great mage.

Bones twisting, muscles reconstructing.

Had someone who knew nothing seen it, they would have felt nauseous.

— Crack, squelch. Crack!

Those grotesque sounds filled the underground laboratory.

With time, the rampaging magic gradually calmed down.

At the center of the laboratory, where utensils were scattered across the floor and blood soaked everything…

The corpse lying on the experimental table opened its eyes, covered in something like rags.

— Flinch!

And then the corpse’s arm moved.

A body clearly rejuvenated.

Perhaps due to the incompleteness of the resurrection spell, the skin was peeling in several places and his appearance was haggard.

However, in the eyes opened wide shone a clear vitality.

“¡Kuh, Kuk…!”

The body, unable to adapt to the forcibly injected life, expelled a spasm.

The man, who for quite a while could not regain his composure, began to tremble in the eyes, as if he could not believe it.

“This place… th, this place is…”

“…”

Upon recognizing that familiar voice, Fina finally showed a twisted smile.

The art of resurrection to which she had devoted countless years had successfully brought Kalimford back to the world of the living.

***

“Huh, eh… my skin… it feels like it’s burning…”

“Welcome back to the world of the living, Kalimford. You have been very fortunate. If it were not for the power of this woman, capable of surpassing even death, you would have wandered within it forever.”

“I… yes… I… was dead… that’s…”

Kalimford, resurrected, extended his dried-out hand, as if only bones remained, and his body trembled.

He could not believe it, but he had returned to life.

The last memory he had was the instant when, risking his life, he threw himself toward Noir’s heart.

He had squeezed out all of his magic with the sole determination of killing that great monster that was about to devour the north.

After that, he remembered nothing.

Only, in the midst of the premonition of death that loomed, just before charging at Noir.

He remembered leaving words of apology to his wife Feria and to his friend Melverot.

And also to his only daughter, Siern.

He remembered asking Melverot to take good care of her, saying farewell through tears.

Siern, whose life was just beginning to sprout in Peria’s womb.

Upon reaching that point, Kalimford, with his haggard body, pushed away the experimental table and rose.

“You are… y-yes… Reina… Reina?”

“Reina… what a nostalgic name. This woman no longer uses that name. As it has always been throughout countless years, my name has changed again.

Now I am Fina.”

“I see… you… saved me. Reina… no, Fina… it was Fina, right?”

“That’s right. How about bowing your head in thanks? Though, well, I also had my own reasons for saving you.”

Kalimford’s shoulders trembled, as if he still could not believe it, and suddenly he opened his eyes wide, remembering something, and asked urgently.

“Noir…! What happened to the great monster Noir? Did my final attack work? That absurdly powerful monster… what happened to it…?”

“Well, out of courtesy, I will answer you. That impossible monster died from your final attack. Peace was restored to the north, and you became the hero of the Empire.”

“Is that… is that true…? Noir finally died…?”

“Yes. The great calamity that turned the north into a mountain of corpses ended. Now, descendants call it the War of Dawn; it is remembered as part of history.”

“I see… so… Noir died… Yes… truly… truly what a relief…”

Kalimford, trembling uncontrollably, clung to the experimental table as tears fell one after another.

He still lived with the memories of the War of Dawn.

He surely still remembered that scene in which Noir’s presence covered the sky.

That was why, upon learning that Noir had died and that the Empire celebrated victory,

He cried sincerely, moved to the deepest depths of his being.

“All the deaths of those who sacrificed themselves so that I could reach Noir… they were not in vain… Yes… damn it… truly… truly what a relief… That everyone’s sacrifice did not end meaninglessly… truly what a relief…”

Fina simply let him cry.

“Truly what a relief… The Empire regained peace once more… I feel as if all my long years of effort have been rewarded…”

“Yes, congratulations. Congratulations.”

Fina congratulated him in a voice devoid of sincerity, as if tossing the words into the air.

Kalimford was that kind of man.

A true hero of the history books, someone who gave everything for humanity and to save the Empire.

Fina knew that as well.

That was why she let him cry for quite a while longer.

The confusion of having been resurrected, and the relief of knowing that the Empire was safe.

Several minutes had already passed as she waited for him to regain his composure in the midst of that storm of emotions.

When Kalimford’s breathing began to gradually calm down, Fina once again formed a twisted smile and spoke.

“That being said… you haven’t forgotten the promise, have you, Kalimford?”

“…Promise?”

“Yes. Why do you think this woman would go to such lengths to resurrect you? I have no interest in the biography of a hero of the Empire. Whether you live or die has nothing to do with me.”

Kalimford, covered in rags, trembled uncontrollably.

Fina advanced with firm steps toward the experimental table, and her eyes, filled with euphoria, shone intensely.

“You said you could kill me. The hero of the Empire, Kalimford, the six-star combat mage who will never exist again in history.”

“…”

“That’s right. You said that if I helped you counter Noir’s necromantic magic, you would grant me eternal rest. Only because of that promise have I endured this life full of tedium. Now it is time for you to keep your word. It is time to finally grant me the fulfillment of my long-held desire.”

Even as she spoke, her breathing became ragged.

Fina laughed in an even more exalted voice and finally declared to the hero of the Empire.

“Come on. Fulfill your duty, Kalimford.”

“Reina… no, Fina…”

If she helped him counter Noir’s necromantic magic, he would burn away the mark of reincarnation and guide her to eternal rest.

That was the promise that the hero of the Empire, Kalimford, made to Fina with resolute eyes.

The hero of justice who always looked straight ahead and only ever spoke the truth to everyone had assured her of it.

That was the only light that allowed her to endure this endless life.

Amid the tedium and pain of long years, she finally reached that light—

“That… was a lie.”

And inside Fina’s mind, a sound was heard, as if something had broken.

“What… did you say…?”

“No… I cannot burn away the mark of reincarnation that you completed. Even with my power, it is not enough. Truly… I am truly sorry…”

“…”

“Reina… no, Fina…”

Kalimford lowered his gaze heavily and spoke as if confessing a sin.

It was his final confession, poured out after an amount of years impossible to count with one’s hands.

“It was necessary… If we had left Noir as he was, he would have reduced the entire Empire to ashes…”

Fina’s body became completely rigid.

As if enormous chains were wrapping around her, the shackle called life dragged her back into reality.

From the very beginning, there had been no escape.

There never was.

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