There Are No Bad Young Ladies in the World

3-Star (4)

“The Grand Duke of Beltus, that man seems to never age.”

Count Belmiyard mused in soliloquy.

In the central meeting room of Cleon Hall, in the Ebelstain nobility district.

The sight of the three renowned nobles of the Empire’s west gathered in one place made the servants swallow their dry saliva.

Each one, ruling over their own territories like kings, knew that a minor mistake could bring great shame to their family.

“Perhaps the jest that he has touched the taboo isn’t so far-fetched.”

Count Belmiyard was presiding over the meeting with a hearty laugh, but as usual, Duke Duplain and the Grand Duke of Beltus wore heavy, somber expressions.

Such was the way with heads of families. In truth, characters like Count Belmiyard were rare.

“If Duke Duplain intends to expand his territory beyond the Belkos Peninsula, he must be wary of the labyrinths in the White Zone. It would be a great gain if he could just twist the trade tariffs there, but recklessly provoking the monsters of a higher labyrinth could lead to greater harm, could it not?”

“The Grand Duke of Beltus is quite the worrier. I’ve dispatched knights from my own domain to investigate, and it seems unlikely there will be any major upheaval.”

“The lives of the domain’s residents are at stake, so we must proceed with more caution. If need be, we could even dispatch a knight order from our domain.”

“Do you call those fellows a knight order? Aren’t they just ragtag mercenaries?”

The Grand Duke of Beltus, with his thin face and bluish hair cascading down, furrowed his brow.

The Beltus family’s domain was vast and fertile, but it paled in comparison to the other two seated here. Most of it comprised islands and mountains.

Their military might was comparable to that of the high nobility, but more than half of it was merely the employment of General Orel’s mercenary band, who were former soldiers.

In terms of authority, he couldn’t compare to Duke Duplain, whose blood was mixed with that of the royal family, so it was fair to say he was always struggling with a shortage of talent. He was a figure always on edge, fearing he might be pushed out of the three great families.

“Duke Duplain, your words are too harsh. The mercenary band under General Orel stationed in the Beltus domain wields their swords with their own convictions and beliefs, do they not?”

“If you pour gold into their hands, they won’t hesitate to stab the very ones they were protecting moments before. Can you really sleep soundly at night, entrusting your domain to such people?”

“It seems Duke Duplain believes he can manage his vast domain with private soldiers indefinitely. Rumors are rife that the outer regions of the Duplain domain are riddled with crime and lawlessness.”

Duke Duplain let out a hollow laugh. He was aware of the valor of General Orel’s mercenaries, but entrusting them with a little task and the security of a domain were entirely different matters.

“Someday you will feel the limit. Or perhaps, are you content with just that much?”

“What a laughable provocation.”

“Did it sound like a provocation? I was merely reciting the facts.”

Count Belmiyard sighed deeply. He wasn’t unaware of the reasons behind their sensitive demeanor.

The White Zone, stretching north of the Duplain domain, was a golden area filled with high-risk labyrinths.

If one could break through and improve the trade tariffs, and recover the treasures hidden within the labyrinths, it would be a great gain… But in reality, it was not an easy task with the military power of the Duplain domain alone. Exploring labyrinths couldn’t be resolved by sheer force alone.

The Grand Duke of Beltus whispering about dispatching a knight order was also because he wanted a share of the treasures of the White Zone. If one wants to share the gains, a justification is needed, hence he consistently nudged Duke Duplain, suggesting he ask for help if it’s too burdensome.

Such disputes over interests were common, but they weren’t the sort of thing to discuss in such a setting.

—

Since the discussions on the tariffs for goods passing through Ebelstain had concluded, the Count of Belmierd thought it appropriate to engage in some light conversation before parting ways.

“Still, it’s much faster and better to exchange opinions in person here in Ebelstain than through correspondence. Now that we’ve reached a consensus on the contentious issues, let’s wrap up the negotiations. After all, having traveled this far, wouldn’t you agree it’s time to see our children’s faces in the noble district’s social circles?”

With that, the Count of Belmierd steered the conversation towards their children.

In truth, all those gathered cherished their offspring dearly, albeit in their own ways.

It was also significant that each of their daughters held a place in Ebelstain’s social sphere, particularly within the Rosea Salon.

The fathers were constantly engaged in their own battles of wits, each determined not to let their daughters be overshadowed.

“I’ve heard that Lady Diella of the Duplain family will soon be making her debut in Ebelstain’s social circles after her coming-of-age ceremony. Though she’s had her moments of wandering, lately, her magical achievements have been quite remarkable.”

No parent dislikes praising their own child.

As the Count of Belmierd casually offered praise to lighten the mood, the Duke of Duplain crossed his arms and leaned back in his luxurious wooden chair.

“Hmm… She may have had her period of wandering, but it seems she has accomplished much recently. However, she tends to undervalue her own achievements, overshadowed by Aiselin’s success.”

“With the debutante preparations underway, such pessimistic thoughts will soon be discarded.”

The Count of Belmierd offered these pleasant exchanges to ease the atmosphere, but he was not one to always conform to others. This was especially true when it came to boasting about his children.

“Though perhaps not quite on par with Elente.”

“…”

“There’s no need for such pessimism, Duke. Even if Diella’s achievements do not match those of our Elente, it’s certainly nothing to be ashamed of.”

The Duke of Duplain’s brow twitched slightly.

If the topic shifted to boasting about daughters, he was not without words to contribute.

“Indeed, Diella’s accomplishments have not fully surfaced yet. But with no hill to compare to Aiselin, perhaps she’s set Diella as her new goal?”

“…”

Aiselin was indeed the flower of Ebelstain’s social sphere, the pillar of the Rosea Salon.

Even the doting Count of Belmierd found it difficult to nod easily at the suggestion that his daughter Elente was more noble and excellent than Lady Aiselin.

Having a daughter like Aiselin was akin to holding a trump card in the game of parental pride.

The thought that there was no answer to this could be frustrating, but the Count could not bear the thought of his daughter Elente being treated as inferior anywhere.

“Perhaps you haven’t heard about the recent magical duel, Duke Duplain?”

“What? A magical duel?”

“Yes. Lady Aiselin may always reign supreme in Ebelstain’s social circles, but even such grandeur may not last forever.”

It wasn’t that the Duke was entirely unaware of the recent magical duel.

Aiselin had candidly shared various trivial stories from Ebelstain’s social sphere with the Duke.

In particular, it seemed she had learned much from her recent duel with Elente.

Aiselin was always composed. However, it was clear she had felt a sense of crisis during the duel, nearly facing defeat at the hands of Elente.

—

She, who always thought of her family, was clearly eager to actively seek a new mentor.

Indeed, Ellente had followed Aislinn right up to her very presence. Duke Duplain, with a triumphant look, quietly observed the Count of Belmierd, who was watching him, and slowly furrowed his brow.

I heard that Aislinn won the duel. However, looking at the Count of Belmierd’s expression, it was hard to tell who was the victor and who was the vanquished.

“Indeed, the mercenary-turned-teacher who taught Lady Diella seems to possess exceptional skills. For now, that mercenary is entirely one of our own, Ellente’s side.”

Though he spoke with elegance and dignity, in truth, his words were nothing more than a veiled scratch at Duke Duplain.

It was nothing more or less than saying, “Aren’t you jealous? The magic teacher you so benefited from now works for our family.”

However, Duke Duplain also snorted at the Count of Belmierd.

“A person of Ellente’s side? Do you really think that mercenary scoundrel is the type to settle down in one place?”

“Excuse me?”

“It seems, Count of Belmierd, you have never met the mercenary.”

Duke Duplain’s words hit the mark. The mercenary, a magic teacher so trusted and followed by Ellente and Aislinn, had not even been seen by them.

As the Count of Belmierd fell silent, Duke Duplain, with his chin propped up, spoke with an arrogant expression.

“Surely, he has a talent for teaching people, but he’s not someone who can be easily tied down to one place, and forcing him to do so would only backfire.”

Before being a magic teacher, he was a magician filled with a desire for achievement.

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If he felt that teaching noble ladies was starting to negatively impact his magical pursuits, he would refuse to teach anyone, even for a fortune.

To handle such talent, persuasion is more effective than coercion.

Duke Duplain’s insight was something that could only be gained by meeting the man named Derek in person. The Count of Belmierd could not make such a judgment at this time.

Feeling psychologically superior, Duke Duplain’s voice regained its ease.

“Moreover, he has already spent a long time as a teacher at the Duplain estate, and has deeply connected with Diella. Understanding what kind of person Aislinn is, it’s obvious he would eventually return to being her familiar teacher rather than teaching Ellente.”

“Ugh…”

“Did you think you could tie him down just because he strayed a bit from the Belmierd family? A ruler should know how to control and handle people.”

The Count of Belmierd could not refute Duke Duplain’s words.

Indeed, Derek deeply understood that Duke Duplain was a man who rewarded achievements accordingly while working under him.

There was no need to be utterly loyal to the Count of Belmierd, a man he did not even know.

If Derek were to pledge loyalty to anyone, it would ultimately be to Duke Duplain alone.

With such conviction in his tone, the Count of Belmierd propped his chin and took a hollow breath.

‘I must meet him.’

Ellente seemed keen on keeping the magic teacher named Derek. Indeed, having such a teacher had led to significant success in the magical duel with Aislinn.

The thought of his daughter losing her teacher due to a difference in paternal authority was unbearable.

Even worse, to lose the teacher to Aislinn of all people, such an event would prevent him from stretching out his legs and sleeping at night. That was something he had to prevent at all costs.

“Was it called the Belderun Mercenary Band?”

After this meeting ends, the other lords will go to meet the daughters of the noble district.

I feel sorry for Ellente, but I’ve decided that I must head to ‘Tears of Belderun’ in the tavern street quicker than anyone else.

Only by pushing this mercenary named Derek into Ellente’s embrace, it seems I could leave Ebelstein with a relieved heart.

‘…’

However, the expression on Duke Beltus’s face, who was listening to the conversation of the two, was not light either.

He was an opportunist.

If figures like the Border Count of Belmierd and Duke Duplain were competing over a single talent, there must be something noteworthy about him.

Being a magic tutor for noble ladies was a sufficient pretext.

His daughter, Lady Denise, had made no significant progress in her magical achievements lately.

To be precise, it was because Lady Denise lacked motivation and was only doing as much as everyone else. Yet, Duke Beltus, even as her father, failed to perceive such a lazy temperament in her.

‘I should send a letter to Denise to inquire about this magic tutor named Derek. It would be fastest to ask around the social circles.’

After all, Denise would bring back some information if she took the matter into her own hands.

She may not initiate things, but once she does, she always produces results.

In fact, Denise had anticipated such instructions from Duke Beltus and had already sent a request to the Belderun Mercenary Band.

If she could just get her hands on this man named Derek, it was clear he would hold significance at the negotiation table.

*

The sound of water dripping down the stalactites echoed through the space.

Even in the darkness where not even an inch ahead was visible, Drest walked forward without any hesitation.

As Derek habitually tried to light a torch, the old man raised his withered hand to stop Derek’s movement.

“…”

“Always be mindful of how to perceive your surroundings in the dark.”

“How exactly should I do that?”

“Emit your mana.”

“…”

The old man’s explanations were always brief.

It seemed impossible to discern beyond the darkness by merely emitting mana.

Among the search-type magic, there was a spell called ‘Night Vision’ that allowed one to see in the dark.

However, there was no sign that the old man was using that spell. Even a master magician who had reached the pinnacle of skill could not manifest magic without the process of refining mana.

Yet, it seemed there was a knack to perceiving the surroundings by just emitting mana.

Derek closed his eyes and tried as the old man instructed. Emitting magic power wasn’t too difficult.

But in the dark cave, his magic simply collided and vanished into the void.

“…Could it be?”

“Yes, you catch on quickly. By scattering your magic and sensing its echoes, you can roughly grasp the surroundings.”

Derek swallowed hard.

It was like a bat emitting sonar to navigate the dark caverns. The old man seemed familiar with the process, able to walk even with his eyes closed.

This way, one could understand the battlefield without resorting to high-level magic.

However, just because the theory was clear didn’t mean it was easy to execute.

The old man seemed to effortlessly comprehend the cave’s structure, but Derek had to be fully alert just to sense his surroundings.

“Is this… possible…?”

Derek tilted his head after several attempts, but the old man’s voice carried a seriousness.

He spoke as if this was not a great feat but merely the basics of search magic.

The standard was too high. Such a skill couldn’t be basic. Yet, Derek didn’t complain.

This old man was an undisputed authority on search magic.

“It seems you don’t quite grasp the levels of search magic. 1st-level search magic can detect danger or weaknesses, but at 2nd-level, you can track specific targets, sense magic itself, and glimpse into the past of objects or places.”

Search mages were a minority. They didn’t directly contribute to combat power.

Magicians specialized in search magic like Drest were rare, most served as support.

“At 3rd-level, you can see through magical disguises or view distant places, and at 4th-level, you can discern others’ magic levels or lies. These are just parts of the various search magics.”

“…What happens when you reach 5th-level?”

“You can read people’s minds. Sometimes, even converse with the dead.”

At those words, Derek had to swallow again.

The old man, reciting in a voice as if he had seen all the world had to offer, seemed to be reading Derek’s mind as well.

Meaning, he knew Derek wasn’t bound to this world and that his blessed magical talent was not ordinary.

Yet, the old man showed no surprise at Derek.

He had lived through a century. It seemed nothing in the world could surprise him anymore.

“At 6th-level, you can sometimes glimpse the future and fate. You can’t use it freely, but occasionally, you feel as if you’re seeing through the eyes of a god. Of course, succumbing to such arrogance never ends well. We must never forget that we are mere mortals upon this earth.”

“…So, there’s a reason Sir Drest sought me out?”

“That would be correct.”

As the old man delved deeper into the dark cave, a vast clearing emerged.

Bats chirped and flew in the darkness, and unidentified rodents scurried across the floor.

In the heart of it all, an old man quietly sat upon a large rock.

“You are fated to die before your coming-of-age ceremony.”

“…”

“I simply wish it were not so.”

You are destined to die.

To hear such a declaration from a six-star explorer mage is shocking.

Yet, Derrick did not seem surprised or emotionally stirred.

As a mercenary traversing battlefields, he always lived close to death. He found it curious that he felt no emotional turmoil within.

“There’s so much I want to ask.”

“I’m sorry, but I have no desire to answer. I cannot predict how my answers might alter your future. The future can branch out in various ways, diverging from what was initially observed. But I can assure you of this one thing.”

Drest WolfTail’s face bore the accumulation of years.

Having lived a century and experienced much, he seemed to have realized something profound at the end.

What could be the goal of his life, having lost everything?

Derrick could not quite grasp it.

“You must not die. So, I will ensure you do not. You must reach a higher state of being than you are now.”

“Are you offering to teach me explorer magic?”

“Yes. And if you can aim for three-star in combat and confusion magic, it would be wise to achieve that now. If you do, none of your peers will be able to match your accomplishments.”

“Why go to such lengths? What do you want from me?”

Drest closed his eyes for a moment, then remained silent, as if finding a compromise.

“Before you come of age, Valerian Delomaine DuPlain will dabble in necromancy.”

Derrick’s eyes widened in shock.

“If that happens, you must kill him.”

Drest WolfTail was not one for idle talk.

Yet, despite this, Derrick found himself needing to ask again what he had just heard.

*

As always, Jayden was polishing cups at the bar of Beldern’s Tears.

But that early afternoon, the face of the patron who entered the tavern nearly made his eyes pop out.

Assisted by numerous servants and retainers, the head of the Belmiard family, Belmiard the Count, trudged in.

The commotion had already caused everyone at the entrance of the tavern street to bow their heads.

He was not the sort to stroll through the Ebelstein market blocks as if on a casual walk.

“Ah, welcome.”

Jayden bowed his head deeply at once.

Rumors had circulated that there was a customs agreement between the three noble houses in Ebelstein. It was just one of the passing pieces of news.

No one, including Jayden and the patrons gathered in the tavern, could have imagined that the Count of Belmierd would step foot here, so they all stared wide-eyed in disbelief.

“I heard the steward sent a letter, but there was no reply.”

“I, I didn’t expect you to come in person. I have nothing special to offer at the moment. Only low-grade liquor…”

“That’s fine. Do you think I came here to drink? I need to see the face of that mercenary, Derek.”

The Count of Belmierd let out a candid laugh and then sat down at one side of the bar.

With numerous servants bowing their heads behind him, Jayden standing across the table felt an unbearable pressure.

After all, he was the tavern owner now. If the Count of Belmierd came as a guest, it was his position to serve.

“I, I have received the commission letter. However… there’s a bit of a problem…”

“A problem?”

“Yes. The thing is… Derek is currently missing.”

Derek had burst into the tavern a few days ago, his face filled with excitement, leaving behind a message that he would refuse all commissions, grabbing his ration pouch, and then he had swiftly departed.

Since then, there had been no contact. There were times he took breaks, claiming he needed rest, but never before had he completely lost touch.

‘Surely the Belthus and Duplain houses must have received letters too, but to disappear at such a time?’

The Count of Belmierd had rushed to the tavern faster than anyone else, a bold move on his part.

He had many schedules within Ebelstein. Pushing all those aside to come here in person meant he had already sacrificed a lot. He was a father who would do anything for his daughter.

If the Count showed such sincerity in coming personally, no mercenary of common birth could refuse any offer. Such pressure had to be applied to prevent their minds from wandering to other houses’ offers.

However, that was only possible if one could see the face.

“Perhaps… he might have entered seclusion for some magical attainment… That’s what I’ve been thinking.”

“Seclusion…? And where would he do that?”

“That, I cannot know. At times like this, he’s quite elusive…”

Belthus, Belmierd, Duplain—all are eagerly seeking to recruit him.

Whatever the case, he’s not the sort to boldly refuse a direct proposal from the head of a house.

─Then, the first to find him will be the master.