Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 168: Ancient Hero (2)

Siern Alaina Rochester kills people.

She possesses a savage nature, like that of a beast crossing the northern tundra.

The instant one meets the gaze of those eyes that shoot forth a cutting gleam, the unfortunate prey’s neck has already been severed.

At an age when she had not even celebrated her coming-of-age ceremony, she had already mastered 3-star magic.

She wandered barefoot through the extreme environment of the snowy wasteland, cutting down everything that stood in her way and soaking herself in blood.

If you ever, while crossing the tundra near the Rochester territory, happen to see a barefoot girl in a dress, standing amid a storm, never make a reckless move.

The figure that seems like nothing more than a distant silhouette beyond the white expanse may be standing before you the instant you blink.

That is nothing less than the embodiment of fear.

Never provoke her.

— Northern Tundra Explorer, Leopold.

***

“…”

“…There was still one more volume. I could swear we had recovered them all when they were designated as prohibited books.”

“The Siern who appears in this record… is she really my daughter Siern… Melverot?”

“I already explained the situation to you. Thanks to your efforts, the great monster Noir disappeared, but due to the residual impact of its magic, Siern cannot control her own power.”

The Rochester family mansion was completely covered with carpets, fireplaces, and insulating layers against the cold.

For an influential noble house, its appearance was somewhat crude, but in the middle of the frozen wasteland, there was no other choice if they wanted to survive.

Crackle, crackle.

Sitting side by side before the crackling fire, Melverot and Kalimford were old friends.

They met on the battlefield, rivaled one another, argued, fought, and even so walked countless paths together.

At times they lost.

At times they won.

Companions gradually joined them.

They fought enemies that put the fate of the world at stake.

Some sacrificed themselves. Others survived and continued living.

If one were to recount that journey in detail, it would be an endless story.

But now, all of that belonged to the past.

Old heroes are relegated to history, settling like sediment as time passes.

Eras advance. What must happen, happens.

It is enough for them to remain as statues in imperial facilities or as a single line in a thick book.

Perhaps stepping down from the stage when the time comes is the true role of an old hero.

Melverot, who had spent his years alone in this cold and desolate tundra, surrounded only by the remnants of Noir, may have thought the same.

At least, until Kalimford appeared before him once more.

“Well, you really do have to live long enough to see things like this.”

“So it seems. I never thought I’d see wrinkles of fate on your face.”

“On the other hand, you’re just the same as ever. Reina… no, was it Fina now? You should be grateful to that black mage.”

“I don’t know… at least, I don’t think she’s grateful to me.”

When he saw Kalimford for the first time, Melverot doubted his own eyes several times.

He thought someone was using some sort of trick and deployed all kinds of exploration magic.

Only after hearing the explanation did he manage to regain his composure.

He had been through too much to lose his cool over something like this.

Even the return of a dead old friend was something he could accept, if he understood the circumstances.

Even so, Kalimford had changed greatly.

Perhaps because he had just been resurrected through black magic.

His magical presence was almost nonexistent.

His body was skeletal, his gaunt face more like a corpse with skin attached than a living person.

“Time has passed, Kalimford. I am already someone of the past.”

“In my case, I clung to life, but I don’t differ much from your reflection. Our era has already ended.”

In the room, only the crackling of the fire echoed, along with flickering shadows.

Outside, the blizzard raged without rest.

The sound of glass trembling, of snow striking the window, of icy wind seeping through the cracks.

They traveled the world together.

They reached out toward the sky, etched the stars into their eyes, and turned the entire world into their stage.

They had companions worthy of pride, and applause and ovations followed them everywhere.

And at the end of that journey,

All that remained were a fireplace stocked with abundant firewood, warm blankets, and a bit of hot goat’s milk.

Kalimford received the wooden jug with trembling hands.

His weakened strength made it seem as though he could barely hold it properly.

“Siern… did she go to the southwest of the continent to learn magic?”

“That’s right. For a time, I couldn’t find anyone capable of taking charge of that troublesome child. But recently I managed to establish contact with a decent master in the southwest, granted him an appropriate title, and entrusted Siern to him.”

“…”

“If you knew everything that’s piled up, you’d be clicking your tongue too. You left behind such a troublesome daughter and made me shoulder everything for years, Kalimford. A bad relationship like yours is already starting to wear me out.”

Although Melverot spoke as if he were furious, Kalimford’s expression relaxed even more as he received the jug.

He said those things, but throughout all those years he had done everything possible for Siern.

The tower erected exclusively for her was proof of that.

Since Siern left the Rochester territory, that tower had remained empty, standing silently in the middle of the wasteland.

“I already sent a letter to the master. I asked him to bring Siern to the Rochester territory. You’ll want to see the face of that neglected daughter of yours too.”

“…”

“Your expression is strange. I understand that you’re emotional, but don’t show something so pathetic. You also need to think about how that girl will feel when she meets her real father for the first time.”

“…That’s not it, Melverot.”

At Melverot’s puzzled look, Kalimford rolled up his dry sleeve to show it.

The flesh had begun to rot. Near the shoulder, the color was already a blackish red.

“…”

“…Even though I was resurrected through black magic, I don’t truly belong to this world. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to endure, but when the black magic sustaining this body is exhausted, I will return to nothing.”

“…How long do you think it will last?”

“Don’t worry. I still have some leeway. But it won’t be infinite.”

Kalimford lowered his sleeve, ran a hand over his face, and continued.

“She considers you her father. She’s living the life she was given with all her strength. That’s why… I don’t want to confuse Siern by appearing now, only to disappear later as I rot away.”

With effort, Kalimford straightened up and placed a hand on Melverot’s shoulder, smiling gently.

“The father of that girl… must continue to be you, Melverot.”

“…”

“I’m really sorry to always ask you for things so heavy…”

That man, bowing in shame, had undoubtedly been a hero who once saved the world.

To think that the end of a hero would be so humble made it impossible for Melverot to look away.

“Before and now, you always manage to complicate my life…”

He said it harshly, but lowered his gaze in silence.

Melverot was the perfect example of someone whose words never matched his actions.

***

After that, Kalimford spread out one by one the writings that Melverot and Siern had exchanged, and read them carefully.

When Siern first left the Rochester territory and headed for Ebelstein, she was filled with anxiety, worry, and unease.

The constant fear that the blood of Noir latent within her might take control of her mind again at any moment.

The anguish of thinking that one day she might kill someone again, become an object of fear and contempt, and be expelled from the group once more.

As he read each of Siern’s concerns, written while she writhed amid that desperate terror, Kalimford’s heart grew heavier and heavier.

But little by little, those anxieties began to dissipate.

And it was only natural.

As she traveled back and forth between Ebelstein and the territory of Baron Ravenclaw, learning various kinds of magic and the education befitting a lady, Siern gradually left behind those gloomy, oppressive worries.

The fragile girl who, at the top of a tower in the tundra, hugged her knees and cried in silence.

Now, at some point without anyone noticing, she was steadily growing into a young lady, surrounded by magical grimoires, in the midst of a temperate meadow.

The tone of the letters she sent to Melverot also changed little by little.

The confessions laden with fear, anxiety, and anguish had practically disappeared.

In their place, the letters were filled with accounts of new environments and people she was meeting for the first time, and of her day-to-day life learning new things alongside them.

***

— Today, a young lady from the family of Count Belmierd personally came to the territory of Baron Ravenclaw. Her name was Ellen. Not only commoners, but also nobles and high-ranking relatives treat her as if she were a queen. Every gesture and every word of hers overflows with the dignity befitting a sovereign. I thought that ladies like that also exist in this world.

— I received basic instruction in transformation magic from Baron Ravenclaw again. I realized that the transformation magic I used before, when I wandered the tundra, relied too much on instinct and intuition. I think that if I try harder, I’ll be able to raise my level.

— Young Trisha suddenly challenged me to a duel, and I ended up attacking with too much force. I myself was very frightened, thinking that the cursed blood inside me might run out of control, but I think I managed it well.

— Today I tried a mont blanc prepared by the pastry chef of the Ravenclaw mansion…

— I took several walks through the prairies near Ebelstein…

Ssshh.

“…”

***

In Melverot’s study, Kalimford set the letters down and rubbed his eyes several times.

Just as Melverot had said, Siern had endured an unfortunate childhood under the influence of Noir’s blood, but now she seemed to have found a good master and to be following the right path.

By nature, Siern was a person of few words and a cold temperament.

However, judging only from the letters she exchanged with Melverot, she seemed like a sensitive young lady, capable of perceiving beauty in a world full of colors.

Those who understood that gap might feel a certain strangeness, but for Kalimford, who had not yet seen Siern in person, those letters alone were enough to bring tears of emotion to his eyes.

Just from the contents of those letters, he already felt as though he had been saved.

It had been worth sacrificing himself to save the world.

At the very least, his daughter was living in a world free from the horror of war and the constant danger of death.

Kalimford read the letters again and again, revisiting Siern’s stories.

Among the accounts of noble society in Ebelstein, the name that appeared most frequently was, without a doubt, that of Baron Ravenclaw.

It was repeated again and again that she had met an irreplaceable master in her life and was receiving invaluable instruction.

“Dereck Lydorf, Baron Ravenclaw…”

That name became naturally engraved in his mind.

At least for now, Siern seemed to trust that man from the bottom of her heart, a man recognized in Ebelstein as one of the finest teachers.

While recovering in the ducal mansion of Rochester, Kalimford imagined again and again what Siern would be like as an adult.

Wearing a beautiful dress, her white hair—so much like her mother’s—falling softly, walking with elegant bearing like a true lady.

***

Bang! Boom!

Crash! Whaam!

And the very next day, Siern arrived at the ducal mansion of Rochester.

Carrying over her shoulder the corpse of a monstrous creature shaped like a gigantic polar bear.

Fwoosh. Crunch.

The cutting wind of the tundra whipped her hair.

She was a girl completely white from head to toe, but that day she was stained a vivid red, drenched in blood.

The creature, dozens of times larger than she was, hung limp, its life completely extinguished.

The barefoot girl passed through the iron gates of the main entrance, immediately drawing the attention of everyone in the mansion.

She wiped away the blood and said casually,

“I ran into it on the way.”

The monster’s corpse, tossed aside as if it were nothing, sent chills down the spines of the household members.

The most feared killer of the north was none other than Siern.

She had returned home.

***

“We were traveling by carriage when a group of creatures suddenly attacked us. I knew it was dangerous land, but I didn’t think they’d appear so frequently. The last time I came, something similar happened.”

Dereck wore a cloak over his coat and was equipped with all kinds of fur-lined cold-weather garments.

Shaking off the snow and wiping away the blood, he spoke in a tone of lament.

“Still, we arrived earlier than expected. Miss Siern had dressed very carefully, but she ended up getting discouraged because she had to change clothes.”

As soon as they arrived at the Rochester mansion, Siern had to follow the maids to change out of her blood-soaked dress.

At the moment, she seemed to be bathing in the annex.

“…”

Melverot was sitting by the gate of the mansion, his chin resting on his hand.

He was waiting for Dereck to finish getting himself in order.

“It was a long journey. Good work.”

“It was nothing.”

“As you well know, saying that I wanted to see Siern is nothing more than a pretext.”

Taking advantage of Siern’s absence, Melverot spoke bluntly.

In fact, it was something Dereck had already anticipated.

Melverot was not so foolish as to make a subordinate cross the continent for a purely personal reason.

“But before getting into the main topic, I want to see your face. Since you’re here.”

With that, Melverot stood up and, with an indifferent expression, headed into the mansion.

A few snowflakes followed him inside and melted on the floor.

In any case, it seemed he wanted to see Siern first.

“…”

Since Melverot often behaved like this, Dereck finished getting himself ready with the same indifferent expression.

He had returned to the ducal mansion of Rochester after a long time.

When he lifted his gaze to the sky, he saw snow falling endlessly over the spire of the tower, as always.

While spring was about to arrive in the southwest of the continent, here it was always winter.

The silent tundra, with no trace of visitors.

Looking out over the white expanse of the Rochester territory gave the impression of seeing the calm that remains after a grand performance has ended.

In another time, this place had been a battlefield where many heroes were born.

But now all of that was in the past.

Dereck shook the snow from his head and began walking toward the interior of the mansion.

Just as, guided by the household members, he was heading for the resting room—

“Are you Dereck?”

In the main hall of the mansion, a gaunt man wrapped in a reddish-brown robe was standing.

Numerous household members surrounded him, yet no one dared to address him or stop him, despite his disheveled appearance.

Amid that strange sense of discomfort, the man spoke, bright eyes gleaming from beneath the shadow of his hood.

“Siern’s master.”

Dereck frowned slightly and adopted a cautious stance.

Even though his exploration magic had reached a considerable level, he could not gauge that man’s power.

That meant only one thing.

Not even Dereck could read his level.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by Web Novel