Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 20: Journey (4)

“There’s nothing more to teach.”

Those who heard Dereck’s statement could only tilt their heads, confused at first.

His student, Diella, was mastering first-tier magic, while Dereck had nearly perfected second-tier magic and was beginning to glimpse the realm of third-tier magic.

The magical level between the two was as vast as heaven and earth, yet Dereck claimed there was no point in continuing to teach Diella.

“From this point on, I cannot determine whether my involvement will have a positive effect on Lady Diella’s magical growth.”

The setting was the Grand Duke’s office. Even in broad daylight, the office was shrouded in a strange dimness, giving it an oppressive feel.

Grand Duke Raymond Oswald Duplain sat, turning in his chair, calmly listening to Dereck’s explanation.

“Your Grace must have noticed Lady Diella’s use of mana—it differs slightly from rule-based aristocratic magic.”

“I suspected it was Wild Academy theory.”

“You knew?”

“I had a hunch about Diella’s uniqueness after her last duel. I wasn’t entirely sure, but…”

Raymond Oswald Duplain, ruler of this domain, was a five-star level mage. With experience in most magical theories, he had also realized that Diella’s magical achievements were not ordinary.

“And?”

“Wild Academy magic fundamentally assumes self-learning. Up to a certain point, a good mentor can guide effectively, but beyond that, one must worry about negative influence.”

“What kind of negative influence?”

“That’s when limitations arise in a mage’s free and unrestrained use of mana.”

Dereck continued explaining, standing firmly with his hands behind his back.

“Lady Diella’s magic is like painting a picture. Among the free-spirited Wild Academy mages, her mana manipulation is exceptionally potent.”

“It’s almost like creating a work of art.”

“Yes, that’s a fitting comparison. The stronger the artist’s color, the fewer people can give advice lightly. Such advice might dull that color and strength.”

Dereck added:

“She might become a mage of a much higher level than we imagine.”

The Grand Duke listened and then closed his eyes tightly.

He sank into thought, his demeanor unchanged. It didn’t take long for him to reach a conclusion.

“I see. I understand what you’re saying. Then you have no reason to stay at the mansion.”

“What’s the use of a magic instructor who no longer teaches magic?”

“Diella relies heavily on you emotionally.”

Dereck lowered his gaze calmly, without responding. Observing this, the Duke accepted it—there was no benefit in Diella becoming overly dependent on Dereck. As a mage of the Wild faction, she needed to learn to stand on her own.

“Right. You’ve always been a man of great ambition. In this noble mansion environment, there are limits to training your magic. For someone like you, it must be difficult to endure such restrictions.”

“Yes. I’ve only truly improved my magic in practical environments. The mansion is… too peaceful for me.”

“You don’t seem destined for an easy life.”

“I consider that a kind of blessing.”

The Duke turned his chair, rested his chin on his hand while gazing out the window, and spoke.

“Still, my youngest daughter, once so bitter, has greatly benefited. I can’t say I was a good father, but I was fortunate to remain one who looked after his daughter. That’s certainly thanks to your efforts.”

“I’m honored.”

“Children grow so fast, it’s almost frightening. You get caught up in managing your estate, and before you know it, they’ve blossomed.”

Valerian, Leigh, and Aiselin had each found their place in noble society. Perhaps Diella’s rebellious phase had long been a thorn in his heart.

Even as his youngest daughter seemed to find her own path, the Duke felt he was entering a new stage of fatherhood—like a mother bird gazing at her empty nest, caught between relief and loneliness.

The Grand Duke quietly yielded to his thoughts, watching as his children moved on with their lives.

“When will you leave?”

“I plan to go to Ebelstain in Lady Aiselin’s carriage once she visits the mansion.”

“I see. Return the library key now.”

“Yes. I’ll return the spellbook I’m reading through a servant.”

“That won’t be necessary. Just return the key now.”

Dereck took a moment to understand the implication behind those words.

He flinched slightly and looked at the three-star spellbook strapped to his waist.

Even for the Duke of a nation, sharing such a valuable spellbook with a commoner was something to be carefully monitored. In monetary value, this ancient book could match the price of a house.

Yet the Duke showed no intent of reclaiming the spellbook—he simply turned his gaze out the window with his chin resting on his hand.

Dereck placed the library key on the Duke’s desk.

“If there’s nothing else, you may go.”

In the dim Duke’s office, he sat as always, surrounded by a sense of duty and a touch of solitude. He seemed like an immovable statue.

Dereck bowed in thanks and quietly left the Duke’s office.

In the corridor outside, Valerian and Diella were already waiting. Valerian looked slightly concerned, while Diella seemed calm.

“You’ve informed our father?”

“Yes. I’ll leave for Ebelstain soon in Lady Aiselin’s carriage.”

“…So that’s what you’ve decided.”

Valerian looked at Dereck with a trace of regret. He had visited Dereck early that morning for a reason—to ask if he could continue guiding Diella. But Dereck’s opinion was firm.

Continuing to teach her might not be beneficial to Diella. And for Dereck, it would be time wasted—time he could use to advance his own magic.

From the perspective that it would benefit neither, the only conclusion was that continuing the magic lessons was pointless.

In the end, Valerian accepted Dereck’s words and silently patted his shoulder.

“Very well. You’ve done a great job. The Duplain family owes you much.”

“Not at all. On the contrary, I feel that teaching Lady Diella has reinforced my own magical theory.”

“…Take this with you.”

Valerian took a thumb-sized medallion from his pocket. On the front was the great seal of House Duplain, and on the back, Valerian’s own engraved seal.

“If you show this in the noble district shops of Ebelstain, it will prove you are under the Duke of Duplain’s protection. I’ll point you to some good supplies exclusive to our family.”

“…Thank you.”

Dereck accepted the gesture and placed the medallion with the Duplain seal in his pocket. Then, he gave Valerian a small bow and turned to Diella.

Diella gazed at Dereck with a surprisingly firm expression.

“You came so suddenly, and now you’re saying you’ll leave just as suddenly.”

“That’s the life of a wandering mercenary, isn’t it?”

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’ll say it anyway.”

Diella hesitated for a moment, then, as if deciding she must speak, raised her head proudly and said:

“…Can’t you not go?”

As if those words struck his heart like a dagger, Valerian closed his eyes tightly.

Dereck looked at Diella calmly, then, with a gentler expression, said:

“As always, I’ll spend my time in the taverns of Ebelstain, playing the role of a mercenary. I’ll also study a lot of magic.”

“…I see.”

“Lady Diella, once you’ve gained your cultural education here, you’ll be granted a grand residence in preparation for high society and will come to the noble district of Ebelstain, right? Just like Lady Aiselin.”

Dereck smiled gently. It was rare to see such a smile on his typically stoic face.

“We’ll meet again soon. If by then I’ve improved a bit more, maybe I’ll have something new to teach you.”

At Dereck’s calm words, Diella could only nod.

His words were always like that—truthful, leaving no room for argument.

*

That night, Diella had a nightmare.

A dream of the days when she was trapped in the pavilion, accomplishing nothing.

Sitting quietly in her room, wasting time, hearing whispers like demonic voices.

Diella, you’re useless. Incompetent. Nothing but a name with noble blood.

The whispers filled her ears until the walls seemed to close in. The world shrank to a point, crushing her, suffocating her—until she suddenly woke up.

Soaked in sweat, she sat up in bed, moonlight seeping through the curtains of the dark room.

A maid with a surprised expression stood hesitantly.

“Lady Diella, are you alright? I heard a sound and came in…”

“…”

After steadying her breath, Diella exhaled deeply. The thought of Dereck’s departure left an inexplicable emptiness. She realized how much she had relied on him.

Honestly, she didn’t want Dereck to go.

But she had no reason to stop him.

—“Isn’t it you, Lady Diella, who controls the whole situation?”

Then, suddenly, something Dereck once said came to mind.

Yes. In the end, Diella was the one in control of the situation.

Dereck was leaving because Diella had completely changed, so there was no reason for him to remain. If she created a reason for him to stay, it would be enough. It was clear that if she returned to her old ways—abusing the servants, causing chaos—he’d stay for her.

After all, he was the one who changed her. Surely, the Duke and Valerian would want to keep him again. That way, she could stay with Dereck.

Diella silently looked at the concerned maid.

She could slap her, scold her for entering the young lady’s room without permission. If she caused a scene, Dereck would stay.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

“…No. I’m fine. Could you bring me a glass of water?”

“Yes! I’ll be back from the kitchen right away. Please wait a moment.”

But Diella didn’t.

She sat quietly at the tea table in the middle of the room, touching her face under the soft moonlight.

Who would she be causing such a scene for?

Creating such chaos would only negate everything Dereck had done until now. Even if it meant he would leave, Diella couldn’t stand to taint the meaning he had left behind. She would never want to defile what he had built with his own hands.

How normal life had become again. The mansion’s servants now smiled at her kindly, and her family spent each day with ease. These everyday moments were so precious.

Because Dereck didn’t want her to lose sight of that, Diella could only wipe her face and weep silently.

What mattered most was Dereck’s ambition—it pierced her heart.

His ambition, revealed when they once gazed at the sky together in the garden, was not to be content as a commoner, but to become a high-level mage. Staying tied to this noble mansion would only hinder his path.

So Diella couldn’t stop Dereck. He was a man with wings.

The girl held back her tears and, soon, wore a look of resolve.

*

That night, Diella had a nightmare.

She dreamed of the days when she was trapped in the pavilion, achieving nothing. Sitting quietly in her room, wasting time, she heard whispers like demonic voices:

Diella, you’re good for nothing. Incompetent. You’re nobody, with nothing to show but your lineage.

The whispers filled her ears until the walls of the room seemed to close in. The world shrank to a point, crushing her, drowning her in agony—until she suddenly awoke.

Bathed in sweat, she sat up in bed, moonlight filtering through the curtains into the dark room.

A maid stood there, startled, hesitating.

“Miss Diella, are you all right? I heard a noise and came in…”

“…”

After steadying her breath, Diella sighed deeply. The thought that Dereck was about to leave brought an inexplicable emptiness. She realized how much she depended on him.

Honestly, she wished he wouldn’t go.

But there was no reason to hold him back.

—‘After all, isn’t it Miss Diella who controls the whole situation?’

Then, suddenly, a line he had once said came to her mind.

Yes. In the end, the control lay with Diella.

Dereck was leaving because Diella had changed completely, so he had no reason to intervene further. If she gave him a reason to stay—if she reverted to her old ways, slapping servants, acting out, causing chaos—she could keep him.

The one who had changed Diella was no one but him, and surely the Duke and Valerian would want to keep him in the mansion again. That way, she could remain by Dereck’s side.

Diella looked silently at the worried maid. She could slap her face, scold her for daring to enter her ladyship’s room without permission. By making a scene, causing chaos, she could force Dereck to stay—for her sake.

Her eyes gleamed with mischief.

“…No. I’m fine. Could you bring me a glass of water?”

“Yes, Miss Diella! I’ll return right away from the kitchen. Please wait a moment.”

But Diella did not call her back.

She sat quietly at the tea table in the center of the room, gently stroking her cheek by the soft moonlight.

For whom would she cause such a scandal?

Creating that chaos would only negate everything Dereck had done so far. Even if it meant he’d stay, Diella could not bear to undo the significance of what he’d built. She would never soil the meaning he had crafted with his own hands.

How normal life had become again: the mansion’s servants smiling kindly, her family going about each day with light hearts. How happy those everyday moments were.

Because Dereck didn’t want her to neglect these, Diella could only wipe her face and sob in silence.

Most important was Dereck’s own ambition, which pierced her heart.

His ambition—revealed when they’d looked up together at the garden sky—was not to be content as a commoner, but to become a high‐level mage. Staying bound to this noble mansion would only hinder him.

That was why Diella could not keep Dereck. He was a man with wings.

The girl held back her tears and, shortly after, adopted an expression full of determination.

*

Four days later, as Lady Aiselin prepared to return to Ebelstein:

At the main gate of the Duplain noble mansion, a grand carriage and many servants gathered to see her off.

Lady Aiselin, with a somewhat complicated expression, greeted the servants and then bit her lip when Dereck approached.

“Shall I set you down at the entrance to Ebelstein? Or would the commercial district be better?”

“The commercial district would be more convenient. Thank you for considering it.”

“No, at least that I can do.”

It was a damp early dawn.

As often happens late in spring, there was a light mist, but you could still feel the characteristic freshness of morning.

At that subtle boundary between night and day, the world felt almost empty.

Only the birdsong in the garden—still untouched by sunlight—echoed hollowly. Dereck thanked Lady Aiselin and, before climbing into the carriage, glanced around.

Valerian and Leigh, who had come early, gave slight bows; Dereck responded with a nod.

Then Diella, who had been crouched between her elder brothers, stepped forward. She still wore a firm expression. Though she had often cried, surprisingly she showed a determined face at this farewell.

He’d expected her to throw a tantrum, to beg him not to go—but the opposite happened.

As if reading his thoughts, Diella said with a familiar smile:

“What? You thought I’d throw a fit and tell you not to leave? I’m no longer a child.”

“…I see. I see you in a new light.”

Dereck half‑laughed, then looked up at the sky lightening above and spoke to Diella:

“Still, it’s been an honor teaching you, Miss Diella. I may not be able to proudly call myself your master anywhere, but I hope you remember the magic we practiced together.”

“I’m sorry, but I’ll proudly proclaim that you are my master.”

“…”

“Even if you want a quiet life, it won’t turn out as you wish. Imagine how many will whisper about being Diella Catherine Duplain’s teacher. Hehe.”

The girl chuckled mischievously, smoothed her abundant golden hair several times, then spoke frankly:

“Don’t hurt yourself doing mercenary work for nothing.”

“I’ll be fine. I hope you take care of yourself too, Miss Diella.”

“No need to worry about me.”

Diella made no scene. She toyed silently with the ends of her hair, then with a resolute look said:

“I’m grown now. See? I can take care of myself.”

Saying this, she placed her hands on her hips and then boldly thrust out her chest with a satisfied smile.

In that moment, Dereck was taken aback, his eyes widening in shock.

It was a memory that suddenly struck him—one that had long been buried deep in Dereck’s subconscious, pushed aside and misunderstood for a long time.

—‘I’m grown now. I can take care of myself.’

Long ago, young Dereck had said the same. Just like Diella now. He didn’t want to burden someone who was leaving, so he’d spoken with a forced smile, body tense.

To let the one departing continue their journey untroubled, he’d mustered that brave face. But instead of relief, his master had hugged him tightly, worry etched on his face.

And… whispered something to Dereck.

He hadn’t understood those words at the time, but still, he buried that farewell deep in his heart and moved on.

And in time, he had his own pupil.

Seeing his pupil bravely declare her maturity as she prepared to depart… everything clicked into place like dominoes, and he understood.

The girl was still too young. Her road was long. Many more life trials lay ahead, and as she journeyed, she would face new rebellions.

Amid life’s waves, how fragile was the figure of that little girl, asserting her adulthood with unsteady steps. That image remained in someone’s heart.

Only now did Dereck fully grasp the emotions that had lingered on Katia’s face that day.

He finally understood completely the soft words his master had once whispered to him:

“Miss Diella.”

So Dereck knelt and gently laid a hand on Diella’s shining golden hair.

And softly spoke, in a low voice:

“You don’t need to grow up too fast.”

At those words, Diella’s pupils widened briefly, then she bit her lip. She seemed to hold back her emotions, struggling to contain them. Tears that she could no longer hold back fell silently from her reddened eyes.

Dereck rose in silence and set his cloak’s hat in place.

“Dereck!”

Perhaps there was no time for lengthy farewells—Diella called out once. Her next words were brief:

“Until we meet again.”

The girl would come to Ebelstein’s social circles. Thus, Dereck could bid her goodbye calmly as he climbed into the carriage.

“I’ll see you in Ebelstein.”

*

Chirp.

The heavy carriage door opened, and Dereck stepped down heavily.

Stretching his lean frame, he looked around and realized it was quite late.

The narrow winding alley still reeked of life, heaps of trash piled in corners—old wooden crates, scraps of food, rusted knives scattered everywhere.

“Mr. Dereck, if you ever come to the noble district, please visit us. I’ll serve you the best tea, and if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“You’re always welcome at the mansion.”

Lady Aiselin leaned forward to bid farewell. Though they’d settled many matters during the ride, something still weighed on her heart at parting.

As Dereck bowed politely, the carriage began to move slowly toward the noble district.

—Tinkle tinkle.

Having alighted, he crossed back into the commoner streets, now bathed in moonlight.

Barefoot children played, beggars sat here and there, soliciting alms from passersby.

In the distance, the cries of a beaten woman and boisterous drunkards mixed, and from a cheap tavern came an indistinct song.

It was a world entirely opposite the noble district, where the air always carried luxurious scents. Here, breathing deeply, he felt an indescribable satisfaction—like returning home after a long journey.

“Well, your skin’s improved—noble mansion food must be good.”

As he headed down the tavern street, a girl sitting cross‑legged on an old wooden crate in the alley’s corner spoke. Her tone casual, chin propped on her hand, it sounded entirely natural.

Clad in a worn old cloak, she was the very image of a mercenary. A large bow hung across her back, and her platinum‑blonde hair was carefully tied back.

“Oh, Pheline.”

If this fetid alley could be called Dereck’s home, then that girl was surely an old friend from his past neighborhood.

At last, Dereck felt he had truly come home.

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