Noble Lady Reformation Guide - Chapter 64: Drop of Blood (10)

Bang!

When the giant skeleton’s fist struck the wall, debris flew and it began to collapse.

Amidst the chaos, Valerian, his crimson eyes glowing, charged at Dereck, sword in hand.

The concentration required to wield four-star necromantic magic while brandishing a sword was astounding. He had already surpassed his limits. His mind, pushed to the brink, no longer knew reason.

If Dereck stood in his way, he would simply eliminate him. That simple cause-and-effect reasoning filled his mind.

The downfall of a noble family, collapsing beyond recovery, was a pitiful sight, and Dereck felt a flicker of sympathy for him.

But wrong was wrong. Dereck was someone who fiercely guarded against any hesitation born of compassion.

Snap!

Valerian had already reached his limit.

He had bewitched the mansion’s servants, controlled numerous monstrous corpses, and even commanded a giant skeleton.

No matter how tightly he clutched Rozin’s staff, handling magic on this scale simultaneously was pushing him to the brink.

Clang!

Dereck moved with the agility of a wild animal and slipped into Valerian’s space. The dagger he held in a reverse grip pierced the gap in Valerian’s armor at the wrist. The sudden pain nearly made him drop the staff, but Valerian gritted his teeth and endured the agony.

Thud!

He kicked Dereck to create distance and again commanded the giant skeleton.

The sheer physical power of each of that skeleton’s blows was something no human body could withstand. Blocking was out of the question, and deflecting was not an option either. It was an attack that had to be avoided at all costs.

Valerian knew this well, and just as he tried to summon more magic to press Dereck, a familiar voice called his name.

“Valerian, brother…!”

At the sound of his name, Valerian’s eyes trembled. His body lost strength for a moment, and he shuddered completely. Dereck didn’t miss the chance and kicked him in the chest.

Crash! Bang!

Valerian rolled across the ground and landed in the garden bed.

Under the torrential rain, Valerian forced himself to stand and looked toward Aiselin. He had been avoiding her gaze, but now it was time to face her.

The father he had so deeply respected—he had stabbed with his own hands, and the guilt of patricide had driven him to madness.

Even as he struggled to rise, seeking to atone for his sins, Valerian had to confront the truth.

The family he had loved wasn’t just his father. Beyond the shattered wall, the girl trembling beside Diella’s bed was also part of that cherished family.

“…Aiselin.”

At last, the whispers of madness clouding his mind began to fade, and Valerian responded in a trembling voice.

*

When his blurred vision returned, life came back to Valerian’s eyes.

It was the moment he saw Aiselin, drenched and sitting on the ground.

Swoosh!

Under the rain, he looked down at himself. His armor was soaked in blood.

He turned his head slightly to look at the mansion—completely destroyed, with numerous injured servants scattered across the floor. In one hand he held a sharp longsword, and in the other, the necromancer’s staff that had clouded his judgment.

“…”

The acts committed in madness were vivid. The one responsible for all this carnage was none other than himself.

Valerian looked at Dereck with trembling eyes. Dereck held his gaze, frowning.

The light of reason was returning to Valerian’s eyes. Seeing Aiselin trembling behind Dereck, Valerian dropped his sword and fell to his knees.

Thud!

The towering skeleton that had burst through the wall stopped moving.

Standing in the rain, it resembled a massive statue. Despite the falling droplets, it showed no further intention of advancing.

“Ah… Huff…”

Raindrops slid through Valerian’s hair and hit the ground, vanishing as they touched.

Valerian silently stared at his trembling hand resting on the floor. The room of Diella was strewn with scattered watercolors.

Among them were portraits of Dereck. A masterpiece that his dear younger sister had created with devotion, intending to gift it to her most admired teacher.

It seemed like just yesterday she was being praised for effortlessly correcting any flawed strokes and completing the painting.

By the time he regained consciousness, the ball had already turned into a disaster. And the family was almost completely ruined.

Who was responsible for all this? No one but Valerian. He lifted his trembling head and spoke in a dragging voice.

“Kill me.”

His gaze turned to where Aiselin lay collapsed. Aiselin shivered once more, holding her breath. Valerian spoke with complete sincerity.

“H-Brother Valerian…”

“Before outsiders intervene… you must end it.”

Valerian already understood. He should not be allowed to live.

For House Duplain to maintain even a shred of its legacy, there needed to be an external justification that they had cast out their wayward eldest son.

Valerian’s erratic actions had to be seen as his alone, and a symbolic event had to demonstrate that they didn’t reflect the family’s will.

If the mages in the main hall began to recover their senses, or if neighboring territories responded, no one could predict how things would unfold.

So this had to be resolved within the Duplain family. The sword was now in Aiselin’s hands.

Thud!

Valerian removed the armor from his torso. His slender figure, clad in noble clothes soaked with rain and sweat, clung tightly to his body.

Still kneeling, Valerian tossed the sword toward Aiselin. It rolled across the ground, clattering several times.

Dereck stepped on the blade before it reached Aiselin, stopping it.

“…There’s no time, Aiselin.”

“Brother… what are you saying…?”

“…Before I lose my sanity again, you must end it.”

Dereck looked at Aiselin silently. Soon, he gave a small nod without a word.

Aiselin bit her lower lip and picked up the sword with her trembling, delicate hands.

And under the rain, she slowly walked toward Valerian. Her body was drenched, and she stumbled several times, unable to summon the strength.

Yet Valerian remained still, watching her approach without moving an inch.

“I’m sorry things had to end like this…”

“Brother… Valerian…”

Aiselin raised the sword with trembling hands and called out his name several times in a broken voice.

But there was no turning back. If she didn’t end Valerian while he still had a moment of clarity, House Duplain would fall even further. Valerian knew that himself. So, with tears streaming down her face, Aiselin raised the sword higher.

Whoosh!

But from Rozin’s staff, which Valerian still held, a new surge of power began to erupt.

As if it couldn’t allow the death of its wielder, who acted as its channel, a more intense will began whispering to him. It urged him to seek more power, more corpses, more slaughter.

Valerian bit his lip and clung to his sanity, silently watching Aiselin.

Aiselin, tears cascading down her cheeks, looked down at Valerian and finally dropped the sword from her hands.

“Brother… Brother, there must be another way. Even if it’s not this… there has to be another way…”

“Miss Aiselin! Do not hesitate!”

Dereck’s voice rang out, and Aiselin’s arm began to tremble. For someone who had lived her life like a pure lily, the thought of killing her own blood was too cruel. She knew, but hesitation now would solve nothing.

Soon after, an even stronger power began to surge from Rozin’s staff. Valerian screamed in pain, and the storm around them grew more violent.

Whoosh!

Aiselin fell to the ground under the wild wind, staring with trembling eyes at the sword lying on the ground.

The sudden burden she had to bear felt like it weighed a thousand tons.

Dereck watched silently, realizing there was no more hope.

Perhaps it would be better if he did it himself and claimed Aiselin had done it. In a crisis like this, there was no time to waste.

Just as Dereck was about to pick up the sword—

“…Then I’ll do it.”

Snap!

A girl appeared in the middle of the storm and picked up the sword. It seemed too heavy for her small hands, but she pressed her lips together and stepped toward Valerian.

Thud!

What followed happened in an instant.

The girl’s flowing hair whipped wildly in the storm. It looked like a lion’s mane blowing in the wind.

*

I still clearly remember Diella chasing a ball across the mansion garden.

She had once been a sweet little girl, but she grew into a beautiful young lady.

She learned to manage the servants in her own way, mastered many forms of etiquette, and excelled in the arts. Sitting alone in the garden, canvas spread before her, pursing her lips as she contemplated her painting—she truly seemed like a noblewoman.

Feeling a strange mix of pride and tenderness, Valerian silently looked at Diella, who had thrown herself into his arms.

The sword she held pierced his chest. Blood spilled from Valerian’s lips.

The dress she had prepared for the ball was stained red.

As soon as she stepped out of the carriage and saw the scene, Diella made a swift decision.

Though her face was streaked with tears, she bit her lower lip to contain her emotions. Yet her trembling hands betrayed her feelings.

‘I see now…’

Only then did Valerian understand. That resolve, that step forward despite the fear, was Diella’s greatest strength. That determined expression was the same she had when painting with watercolors.

How much determination did it take to draw each irreversible line on a blank canvas?

And when she made a mistake, her ability to quickly adapt and fix it was a gift from the heavens. In this splendid and talented family, perhaps Valerian had been a mistaken brushstroke. This, in a way, was a remarkable improvisation.

Valerian smiled faintly and placed his hand on Diella’s head.

Watching her tremble, he let out a soft laugh and said,

“You’ve… grown, haven’t you…?”

Diella, who had been looking down, widened her eyes in surprise. Soon after, Valerian lost all strength and collapsed to the ground.

Clang! Clang!

The staff fell from Valerian’s hand and rolled across the ground.

The rain began to ease gently.

Drenched, Diella looked up at the dark clouds slowly dispersing. Sunlight filtered through the bones of the now-motionless giant skeleton.

Kneeling in the mud, she gazed at her brother’s cold, lifeless body.

She held her breath to keep from crying—feeling that even a moment of weakness would unleash her tears.

Squelch, squelch.

A mercenary approached the girl sitting there.

“Miss Diella.”

The voice that softly called her was the one she loved most.

“It’s been a while, Dereck. I’m ashamed to say this after inviting you, but as you can see… the ball was a disaster.”

“It’s all right.”

Diella spoke in a barely audible voice, soaked with tears. Dereck stood behind her, brushing the mud from his clothes.

With trembling shoulders, Diella whispered,

“Dereck. I’m sorry, but may I ask you for a favor?”

“Of course. Anything.”

“Could you… hold me, just this once?”

“…”

Without hesitation, Dereck knelt beside her and wrapped his arms around her.

Moments later, the girl who had lost everything broke down in tears in Dereck’s embrace.

She clung tightly to his neck and buried her face in his chest.

Both of them soaked, covered in mud, blood, and sweat… yet neither complained.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelCet