There Are No Bad Young Ladies in the World

Ellente (2)

“As it is a formal magical duel, there are more restrictions than one might think. Above all, with many nobles watching, we must at least maintain a semblance of dignity.”

Derek always had a serious expression.

Calmness was contagious. Ellente felt ashamed of her emotional retorts just moments ago. No matter how cornered she was, physically or mentally, maintaining composure and dignity was always expected of a noble lady.

Yet, Derek seemed unfazed.

“Still… as much as I hate to admit it, Lady Aiselin is a cut above me.”

“Not in every aspect. You just need to find the areas where you, Miss Ellente, are superior.”

Derek laid out his words with certainty, without a hint of hesitation or anxiety.

It seemed as if he had anticipated even this kind of fiery exchange from Ellente. To her, Derek, a mere commoner, now seemed like a seasoned veteran.

“Was all the magic training pushed to the limits up until now meaningless? It was all necessary groundwork to defeat Lady Aiselin. Now, only the core process remains.”

“What, have you prepared something else?”

“…I did say I needed to test Miss Ellente’s will, didn’t I?”

As Derek looked at Ellente with even more seriousness, she swallowed hard.

Despite Ellente’s reaction, Derek spoke coolly.

“From now on, it will be real hell. You must follow closely.”

If what was to come was real hell, what had everything been until now?

Ellente began to see the boy before her as a lion wielding a scythe.

But after causing such a commotion, she was in no position to back down now.

*

Riding through the vast meadows of the Count of Belmiard’s lands, one could easily see peasants tilling the fields from early morning. The wheat fields, just entering the harvest season, stretched across the vast plains.

Crossing the Boleron Plains, the largest granary in the western continent, one would eventually see a large fortress on the horizon. As it managed the entire southwestern coastal border, the impressive military fortress was well-maintained.

– Clip-clop, clip-clop.

Felmier had been riding for a while.

After all, that mercenary scoundrel would be in charge of teaching magic for the time being, so there was no role for him.

It was just a brief deviation. With things having turned out this way, he had stopped by the Belmiard estate to catch up on overdue work and to report the current situation to the count.

Unlike the times running through the rice paddies, the atmosphere starts to turn grim as one approaches the fortress.

Along the ridges that follow the southern coastline, watch posts stand guard, and as the massive mountain ranges begin to appear, one can see flags lined up along the road and soldiers patrolling with a nonchalant grip on their weapons.

Riding along the entrance of the fortress, the soldiers lined up halted their attempt to stop him.

– Neigh! Neigh!

– Clack

Heading towards the spire at the heart of the fortress, a man was seen overlooking the soldiers busy with parade drills for the festival.

He appeared quite young for his position. Fine lines hinted at the years he had lived, yet his eyes still sparkled with vitality compared to other nobles of the realm. His broad shoulders and robust build were proof of his active duty.

He was Tristan Anelt Belmierd, the Earl of this land.

Even the heads of count houses in the capital would bow and show respect before this border count, a man of high repute in the western empire.

“Oh, Felmiere! Have you returned from Ebelstain?”

“Your health fares well, I trust, Earl. I thought you’d be at the count’s estate, not out here at the fortress.”

“Do you take me for one to idle away with a quill in some corner? One must exercise the body now and then.”

Earl Belmierd was known for his generous nature and care for his subordinates, but as a former soldier, he also possessed an innate charisma. He was the type to look after his own while dealing decisively with his adversaries.

“It’s been too long since I’ve seen my daughter Elente’s face. When that treasure was by my side, laughter was never far. How fares she in Ebelstain?”

“Yes, quite well. She has been taking on many challenges lately, focusing more on her magical training.”

Felmiere hesitated for a moment before deciding to withhold the report about a mercenary named Derek. He would keep it vague for now.

He couldn’t predict how the Earl would react to the news that his daughter Elente was learning magic from a mere mercenary. Felmiere considered Elente’s escapade with Derek to be a mere deviation.

After all, Elente’s hiring of such a mercenary was largely driven by her competitive spirit against Lady Aiselin, and the idea of falling behind a commoner in magic lessons was a blemish to her own pride.

“That is indeed fortunate. I have business in Ebelstain concerning the customs issues on the southwestern trade route. I was going to send word through the high officials at the count’s estate, but with Felmiere here in person, there’s no need.”

“Is that so?”

However, unbeknownst to Felmiere, Earl Belmierd was already preparing for a visit to Ebelstain.

It wasn’t unusual for high nobility from the southwest to visit Ebelstain, but such sudden trips were rare.

“Perhaps there’s no need to send word after all. Sometimes, surprising my treasure Elente with a gift isn’t a bad idea. No need to announce it separately. However, I do need to think about what gift to bring.”

“Still, it might be better to inform her… Lady Elente would be overjoyed, I believe.”

“I also wish to see how Elente is adapting to her life in the manor abroad. A father’s worry is ever-present, isn’t it?”

Earl Belmierd had visited the noble district of Ebelstain several times.

On the surface, it seemed like a dazzling paradise for the nobility, but one layer deeper revealed the intense rivalries and mind games they played.

It was hard not to worry about his daughter in such a place. He often sent various gifts, supplies, and capable officials to aid her life, but a parent’s heart is never fully satisfied with just that.

Elente, visiting the count’s estate, seemed carefree as she recounted her days in Ebelstain.

Yet, Earl Belmierd knew well that his daughter had matured. It wasn’t impossible that she forced a cheerful demeanor, fearing her father’s worry due to her life away from home.

From the Earl of Belmead’s perspective, worry was inevitable. He knew too well that although she had long become an adult in reason, emotionally, she still harbored too many childlike aspects.

If the Duke of Duplain was a stern and weighty patriarch, then the Earl of Belmead was a magnanimous yet direct figure. He was the kind of man who would not think twice about adjusting his schedule if it meant checking on his daughter’s condition, playing the fool in matters concerning her.

“Since it has come to this, let’s move up the schedule. You, Felmiere, will accompany me to Ebelstain on the day I depart.”

“…Would that really be alright?”

Felmiere couldn’t help but wear a troubled expression.

*

“Time is indeed like an arrow, Derrick.”

That’s how the letter from his mentor, Katia, began.

Derrick quite liked the expression that time was like an arrow.

Just as an arrow leaves the bow and flies straight, time moves forward without ever turning back. And when one comes to their senses, a day, a season, a year has passed—it felt like that expression summarized his life perfectly.

The sensation he felt while teaching Lady Ellente was quite similar. Before he knew it, more than a fortnight had passed.

Derrick had promised to make Lady Aiselin victorious, but in the end, the most important thing was her own will. Whether she managed to handle Derrick’s lessons well was another matter to be seen.

– Clack, clack.

Leaning his head against the wall of the swaying carriage, quietly reading the letter, Derrick caught sight of Lady Ellente sprawled out in the corner of his eye.

Not the noble carriage she was accustomed to, but this shabby one usually ridden by mercenaries, filled with dust and dirt.

Inside this old and worn carriage, a place where a lady of the Earl’s household would never have any business being in her lifetime.

Dressed not in her usual frilled dresses but in light, comfortable clothes with a robe thrown over.

To passersby, the girl looked so disheveled they might wonder if she truly was nobility, lying there exhausted, gasping for breath. In reality, her noble status was kept a strict secret.

Derrick glanced at Lady Ellente, then turned his eyes back to the letter.

“It seems almost two years since I left Ebelstain, and my contact has been terribly late. Since arriving in this Elvester domain, I’ve been swamped with work, only now feeling a bit of relief. The Countess Freya I’ve taken under my wing has a higher zeal for learning than I thought, and it seems I’ve lived focused only on teaching her magic for a while.”

“Now that I have some leisure, I think back and feel that the days when I strolled through Ebelstain’s tavern streets teaching you magic were freer. Back then, I couldn’t live as comfortably as now, but I could go wherever I wished.”

“Your face looks like you’re reading a love letter.”

“Have you come to your senses?”

“What are you talking about? I’ve been conscious the whole time.”

Ellente tried to maintain her pride but couldn’t manage to get up. It was understandable.

During this fortnight, Derrick had taken Lady Ellente through the labyrinths on the outskirts of Ebelstain. It was not an experience to lightly subject a noble lady to.

Even veteran adventurers had to prepare thoroughly to enter the deepest parts of the labyrinth, the origin of the demonkind.

Although the place Derrick took her was just a bit deeper than the entrance, the experience there was enough for Ellente to feel a fear akin to death.

Of course, if there had been any real harm, Derrick wouldn’t have been able to handle the consequences, so he brought along Jayden, a mercenary even more veteran than himself, and just in case, Felinne as well, to traverse the labyrinth. Derrick alone could have navigated the entrance of the labyrinth without incident, but he took precautions for any unforeseen possibilities.

Nevertheless, what Ellente saw during those two weeks was hell itself.

‘…’

In truth, the method to forge Elente into a master of real combat was simple. It was all about real battle experience.

What Derrick wanted to instill in Elente was the raw and savage landscape of the battlefield, something those bound by strict rules would never experience in their lifetimes.

It’s one thing to kill the occasional monster that lurks on the outskirts of Ebelstain, and quite another to plunge into the labyrinth that spawns them and go on a killing spree.

The bloody scene, where axes and swords fly through the air.

No matter how many layers of protective magic one wraps around themselves before leaving their mansion, witnessing the nauseating brutality of that scene firsthand would make anyone’s eyes tremble with fear. It’s a different issue altogether from Elente’s own safety being assured.

What Derrick ultimately sought to cultivate was Elente’s ‘vision.’

More precisely, the breadth of her sight.

The vast difference Elente felt during her sparring with Derrick originated from that very sight.

To Derrick, who stood firm through all sorts of desperate battles, this sparring ground, where everything was perfectly arranged and only dignity was cared for, was nothing more than a playground for children playing in the dirt.

Once a person experiences a world of greater breadth, they often quickly master the achievements of the lower realms.

Someone who can run 1000 meters will naturally know how to run 100 meters. Of course, the nuances of running 100 meters may differ subtly, but the basics would have been automatically mastered long ago. That was the difference between Derrick and Elente.

However, mastering these seemingly simple basics naturally is by no means an easy task.

The process of acquiring them is not something delicate noble ladies can endure.

That’s why Derrick repeatedly asked and confirmed with Elente. If she was ready.

On the first day, Elente vomited at the sight of the blood-drenched labyrinth. She leaned against the wall with trembling fingertips, but turned pale when she saw the pus sticking there.

The same happened on the second day, and the third. For three full days, she could do nothing.

For a noble lady who had lived her life in a mansion filled with antique art, walking through that blood-soaked scene was nothing less than hell itself. It was akin to shock therapy.

Yet, Elente did not give up. By now, it was almost as if she couldn’t afford to give up.

By the fourth day, she gritted her teeth and managed to attack the monsters with magic, and on the fifth day, she killed one for the first time.

Elente’s figure, looking at the dark blue blood with shaking hands, was striking. Though a noble lady, she had become someone who finally understood how the lowest mercenaries killed the monsters.

On the fifth and sixth days… She began to show signs of adaptation, but on the seventh day, upon seeing a giant Minotaur appear in the labyrinth, she had to swallow her dizzying tears again.

Pheline, seeing the noble lady fall apart to such an extent, held her sides and laughed for a long time at the tavern after it was all over. In front of Elente, she pretended to be a mature mercenary, but inwardly, she seemed delighted to see the nobility crumble.

Even amidst this, Elente diligently did not give up, and every morning she waited for Derrick, then donned her robe and left the mansion. Without allowing even the servants to accompany her, she blended into the tavern streets to learn what the real bottom of the battlefield was like.

Thus, Elente had become someone who could, after all, overcome the entrance of the labyrinth.

Of course, after fighting all day, she was inevitably exhausted.

“Miss Elente, I’ve brought you some water.”

“Th-thank you… You are so kind…”

Pheline, sitting in the corner of the carriage with a serene smile, handed over the cold water, and Elente quickly took it and drank.

Whether Pheline found joy in seeing Elente struggle so hard, she laughed with a ‘ho-ho.’ To an outsider, she might seem like a kind girl, but Derrick, knowing her true nature, could only shake his head.

Derek once again glanced at the letter.

“How far have you come in your magical achievements? Sometimes I wonder if you are still a student. Regardless of what anyone says, you were the most talented magician I have ever seen in my lifetime. As a teacher of magic, many would covet a disciple like you.”

“Though it’s unlikely, have you mastered even higher-tier magic? It may be an overestimation, but I think you might be capable of it. Countess Freya has recently become fully proficient in 1-star magic. Seeing her joyous demeanor reminded me of your childhood and warmed my heart.”

“If there’s a chance to see you again, please show me your magic. If I happen to visit the western part of the empire, I will contact you. Your long-time teacher, Katia Flameheart.”

Master. I too am spending my life teaching others, just like you.

With such a monologue in his heart, Derek quietly put away the letter and sank into contemplation.

Teaching and guiding someone is a rewarding task in its own right, and, surprisingly, it had a positive impact on Derek’s own magical achievements.

Revisiting what he already knew was greatly beneficial, and sometimes, in trying to make his disciple’s magic more mature, his own magic became more refined.

The 1-star magic spells, Ice Lance and Flame Arrow, felt more sophisticated as he taught Elente, as if he was devising more elegant ways to utilize them.

Is teaching someone also a way of teaching oneself?

Such an unexpected realization made Derek understand why magic teachers are so obsessed with good disciples.

“Miss Elente.”

Of course, it wasn’t really a situation for such a tender monologue.

“The sparring is in two days.”

“…”

“How do you feel?”

Lying atop the carriage, Elente stared quietly at the swaying ceiling before answering with difficulty.

“Indeed, as you said, Derek, I’ve had many unbelievable experiences these past few days. I’ve been training endlessly, and I feel my magic has matured beyond what it was before.”

“…”

“Still… I’m not sure if I can win.”

Miss Elente couldn’t help but reveal her anxiety.

Certainly, Derek had been rapidly improving Elente’s mastery of magic, but whether she had become skilled enough to defeat Aiselin was uncertain.

At least among the noble ladies, no one could be sure.

For now, all Elente could do was place her trust entirely in Derek. The duel was drawing near, and Derek was the only one who understood Elente’s inner self the best.

Elente took a deep breath while lying down. It was time for the duel with Lady Aiselin.

Leaning against the carriage wall, Derek began to close his eyes, seemingly without a care in the world.

*

“Lady Aiselin, it’s time for your watercolor lesson.”

The maid knocked politely on the door of Aiselin’s private practice room.

However, there was no response from inside. There was a sense of presence, but the lack of an answer suggested she was deeply focused.

After a moment of contemplation, the maid decided to intrude, as she couldn’t afford to delay Aislin’s next appointment.

“I’m sorry, I’m coming in.”

With that, she opened the antique wooden door, and as it creaked open, the interior was revealed.

Inside, Lady Aislin was staring blankly at the sky, chanting a spell. There was an eerie aura about her.

The maid, who had served Aislin since her childhood, was at a loss for words, her voice caught in her throat.

The room was filled with a bluish magical energy, contrasting with her jet-black hair that floated as if weightless. The traces of magic in her luminous eyes seemed to embody the twilight itself.

The room was cluttered with various tomes of the Orderly School of Magic. It was unusually messy for Lady Aislin, who normally kept her surroundings immaculate. She was that engrossed in the expanse of magic spread throughout the room.

Her gaze was not on the ceiling but seemed fixed on something far beyond.

It was the sky. The sparkling array of magic inside the room appeared to be a representation of the starry night.

The girl was the epitome of a model student, having devoured the Orderly School’s magic books until she was sick of them.

The numerous maxims and theoretical insights of Adelbert, the founder of the Orderly School and the first to define the hierarchy of magic, lived and breathed in her mind.

She had internalized those insights, read over and over again, until they became her own knowledge, now taking shape at her fingertips.

Adelbert, the first magician of the Orderly School, was said to have conceived the hierarchy of magic by looking at the Big Dipper in the sky. It was the opening chapter of Adelbert’s biography that the young girl had read as a child.

The structured system of magic, regulated by the stars, guarded against chaos and emphasized the coherence of its orderly theories. The spells he organized became the foundation not only for the Orderly School but for all magic.

Within that well-established order, the flow of magic that emerged in the girl’s eyes coalesced and expanded.

Born of noble blood, endowed with exceptional talent, and having steadily built up her efforts, the girl’s magic eventually transformed into the Milky Way of the starry sky.

– Whooosh!

Suddenly, the magic gathered in the girl’s hands spread throughout the room, and the sound of a grand orchestra began to fill the space. It was Aislin’s favorite symphony.

The sight of a grand ensemble playing within the small practice room was enough to make one doubt their eyes.

However, the majestic sound continued for a moment before… it began to wane, as if withering away, and then quieted down.

The girl seemed to feel the strain of wielding such a magnitude of magic. It was still a spell she couldn’t fully control.

“Haah… Haah… Failed again.”

Aislin’s self-reproach echoed in a neat voice, the only sound left in the quiet room.

The maid, witnessing the scene, couldn’t help but widen her eyes in astonishment.

What the girl had just conjured was the second-tier disorienting spell ‘Auditory Illusion.’ It was the same spell that Derek had self-taught at the age of fourteen.

“Oh my, look at the time. I got carried away. It’s not polite to be late, so I must hurry.”

Only then did Aislin, startled, notice the maid’s presence.

Quickly straightening her dress, Lady Aislin hurried out of the room, and the maid could only watch her silently.