There Are No Bad Young Ladies in the World

Ellente (1)

Running a tavern means living life out of sync.

Opening the doors as the sun begins to set, closing them as it starts to rise. Heading home while watching the sky brighten to a bluish hue, one often notices people bustling about the sleepy streets.

Jayden thought this life wasn’t too bad.

When he used to roam the battlefields, decapitating trolls, there was no such thing as a life pattern, so this feeling of comfort in the predictability of today and tomorrow was often welcome.

Of course, he never neglected his training and would sometimes take on quests himself, keeping busy… but fundamentally, he was intoxicated with peace. The occasional monster hunt was nothing more than a deviation for Jayden, who bore a past riddled with fatigue.

After wiping a few clinking cups clean, the silence within the empty tavern feels as comforting as a cozy blanket.

Jayden quite liked the quiet scene just before closing. It was during such moments of contemplation about ending another day that a familiar figure entered through the tavern door.

– Creeeak

“You’re still open, boss man.”

“Derek. It’s almost dawn, what brings you here?”

“Just picking up some snacks before heading back home. Got any leftovers?”

Derek, as always, was a complete mess.

It wasn’t unusual for this mercenary, known neither for tears nor blood, to appear caked in dirt and dust.

However, what was peculiar was that he was currently on an expensive contract, not taking any other bounty jobs.

“No, Derek. Did you go all the way to the outskirts of Ebelstain? Without any bounty work, why would you…”

“Just went to check something out.”

“…Don’t tell me you went into the labyrinth?”

“Not deep, just enough. I had that plan I told you about.”

Exhausted, he sat at the bar table, swept his bangs back with a dry wash of his face, and let out a weary sigh.

“Got anything to drink?”

“Almost closing, not much good stuff left.”

“Anything will do.”

“Alright, then.”

Derek was known to be tutoring the young lady of the Belmyrde Count’s family, spending almost all day on it. Yet, he still found time at night to venture to the outskirts of Ebelstain. It seemed he was either honing his magic or aimlessly exploring around.

“Getting any sleep?”

“About to head in and catch some shut-eye.”

“And then off to teach the Belmyrde lady again?”

“I’ll manage about three hours. Better grab what I need and go.”

Jayden clicked his tongue and served him a simple drink. He never lived as fiercely as Derek during his active days. Derek seemed almost bewitched by the study of magic.

It had been a while since Jayden met the boy in the mercenary pits. He was well aware of the boy’s extraordinary magical talent, often feeling it was excessively so.

“There’s a letter for you at the mercenary guild. From an unusual sender.”

Not wanting to detain the tired Derek any longer, Jayden quickly tossed a letter sealed with a fancy wax stamp onto the table before him.

Derek picked up the letter with a puzzled look and scanned its surface.

“It’s from the Elvester Count’s family. The Elvester County is a long carriage ride from here, on the eastern edge. Never had a letter come from so far… especially from a noble house…”

“The Count of Elvester, you say?”

“Yes. No matter how famous your name may be, it’s only within the confines of Evelstain, isn’t it? Do you have some charm to bewitch the nobility?”

“No. This is likely… sent by my master. He said he would update me on his well-being when he could.”

Derrick’s mentor, Katia Flameheart, was teaching Lady Freya of the Elvester County.

Knowing full well how excellent a mentor she was, Derrick had no doubt she would adapt splendidly even in such a resplendent place.

“The mentor of Lady Freya? That old wizard has lived a full life.”

In an empire that seemed to swallow a whole continent, the renowned families varied from region to region. News from the East seldom reached the far western edges of Evelstain, yet the names of some influential figures from prominent families were still heard of, even here.

If it’s Lady Freya of Elvester they speak of, she’s regarded almost like the queen of social circles in the Eastern Empire.

‘In Evelstain terms, she would be akin to Lady Aiselin.’

Derrick tucked Katia’s letter into his pocket, his face unwittingly breaking into a contented smile. He seemed quite pleased to hear news from his mentor.

For Derrick, who had become a hardened mercenary at the tender age of seventeen, such a human smile was a rare sight. Jayden, observing Derrick, couldn’t help but feel, ‘He’s human after all.’

“Derrick.”

Jayden, with his burly arms crossed, finally spoke up after quietly observing Derrick, who was now wearily drinking fruit wine.

“Take care of yourself.”

“…Don’t worry.”

[ Newly Acquired Magic ]

1-star Combat ‘Ice Spear’

1-star Combat ‘Flame Arrow’

1-star Transformation ‘Attribute Bestowal’

1-star Confusion ‘Illusion – Small Animal’

2-star Combat ‘Shadow Restraint’

2-star Combat ‘Massive Protection Shield’

2-star Transformation ‘Crystallization’

2-star Detection ‘Magic Sensing’

※1-star magic can now be cast without the complete incantation.

*

Elente had come to believe in the existence of an afterlife. She realized that hell was not so far away.

Elente’s stamina was by no means frail. Though a delicate noble lady, her mental strength was exceptional, and her willpower was so strong that she could endure even the most grueling of all-night teachings.

Yet, despite this, Derrick’s magic lessons possessed an enigmatic force that pushed people to their limits.

– ‘Miss Elente! You can do more! Today, you must learn how to scrape together the last of your depleted magical energy… to efficiently draw out magic. You must grasp that sensation!’

– “How am I to summon magic… from the depths of depletion… *gasp*… *gasp*… How is it possible…”

– “Is there anything in this world that cannot be done with sheer will?”

– “Words are… so easily… spoken…!”

– “If it seems impossible, giving up is also an option.”

Elente’s daily routine was already more than any person could handle.

She would rise at dawn for a brief magic utilization practice with Derek, digest a morning of liberal arts classes, snatch a quick lunch, then duel with magic all afternoon, dine in the evening, train for hasty magic mastery until bedtime, have a late-night snack, and practice flower arranging or playing an instrument until the moon was high in the sky before falling asleep.

After about two weeks, waking up in the morning brought her to a state where the world seemed hazy. Indeed, she realized that this is what happens when a person is pushed to the extreme.

“Could this… actually kill me?”

Having already made bold promises to Derek, it was now a delicate situation to say she couldn’t do it.

Nevertheless, the thought that she might truly defeat Lady Aiselin if she continued to train hard like this crept in. Elente had never lived her life in such minute-by-minute detail before.

Effort never betrays. Elente, being diligent in everything she did, could find some sense of fulfillment even in this hellish schedule.

Elente’s will was still ablaze.

However, whether her body could keep up was another matter entirely.

“Ah, Miss Elente. Your skin has suffered a bit.”

“…”

For a mere head maid to comment on the appearance of a lady of the Belmiurd family was a grave impertinence.

Yet, despite this, the mansion’s head maid boldly advised Elente while helping her dress in the morning.

“Miss. It’s good to always strive for magic mastery, but when it affects your appearance, it becomes a great concern for us servants.”

“Yes. I’ve been so engrossed in my magic that I’ve momentarily forgotten to maintain my appearance. Without you all, I would be in a sorry state indeed. I’m always grateful.”

“…What about reducing your magic training schedule?”

“…That’s not possible.”

She must win against Lady Aiselin.

That burning desire to win was incomprehensible to the head maid.

What if she loses?

She wasn’t in a position to make such irresponsible remarks, but it seemed about time for someone to point it out.

No one was unaware that Lady Aiselin was a paragon of perfection in every aspect.

And most people thought it wouldn’t be easy to defeat her with such short-term, desperate efforts.

Regardless, Elente was challenging the impossible.

Even if she succeeded, it would hardly matter. Who would consider Miss Elente more outstanding than Aiselin for winning a single practice duel? It was just one practice duel after all.

Yet, Miss Elente was obsessed with the contest against Lady Aiselin, as if possessed by a ghost bewitched by victory.

One could only wonder what made her so obsessively fixated.

“Lady Ellente seems to be having a hard time.”

And it was the same for the other noble ladies of the Roséa Salon.

Lady Ellente, who occasionally graced meetings and debates with her dignified beauty, was admired by all, though not as much as Aislinn.

After all, among the three ladies considered the heart of the Roséa Salon, ranking them seemed meaningless. They were all like blossoms in their own right.

Therefore, no one understood the seriousness of Lady Ellente, who became visibly more haggard day by day, devoting herself to magical training.

Before long, Lady Ellente, unable to endure the daily hellish training, wandered the cultural hall with a dazed look. It was questionable whether this was even acceptable.

Upon returning to the mansion, she had to train her magic again, and review her hasty spells before meals.

Every day, she scraped together her magic from the very bottom, pushing herself to exhaustion without questioning the meaning of it all.

Her sole focus was on overcoming this hell. Gradually, everything in the world began to feel hazy and distant.

“…”

From a corner of the cultural hall, Aislinn watched Ellente with a heart full of discomfort.

“Lately, Miss Ellente looks really exhausted. Her skin seems a bit damaged, and her eyes lack vitality. I’m worried she’s overdoing it.”

“She must want to give her all in the magical duel with Lady Aislinn. Even if it’s just a practice match, her earnestness is undeniable.”

Aislinn sincerely disliked speaking ill of others.

Her followers knew this well, so they refrained from openly criticizing Ellente’s fierce competitive spirit.

However, their words subtly conveyed a slight contempt for Ellente, who seemed to struggle excessively.

Aislinn inwardly despised such short-sighted, lower nobility.

Following the remarkable Lady Aislinn, her followers often deluded themselves into believing they held the same authority. Aislinn found their condescending attitude towards Lady Ellente, as if they were in her shoes, quite distasteful.

Lady Aislinn wore a look of pity.

*

The next morning, Lady Ellente, who somehow endured the screaming agony of her body, rose from her bed.

As always, the head maid, with a worried look, combed Lady Ellente’s hair and said,

“A gift has arrived from the Duplain family.”

“…What? Duplain?”

“Yes. Oh, it seems to have been sent by Lady Aislinn…”

A maid entered the bedroom, carrying a wooden box adorned with pretty flower ribbons and elegant ribbons.

After placing it on the tea table and bowing politely, Lady Ellente, rubbing her bleary eyes, opened the box.

Inside were a beautiful handwritten letter from Lady Aislinn, a fragrant sachet, and an assortment of magical health aids.

“…”

“Miss Elente?”

After examining the contents of the box, Miss Elente quietly unfolded the letter. Inside, the phrases diligently penned by Lady Aiselin were filled with pretty and delicate handwriting. They were mostly messages of encouragement, urging her to stay strong.

Lady Aiselin had sent this worry-filled gift, fearing that Elente might be overexerting herself in preparation for the duel.

However, it was clear to anyone that a person of superior skill sending such a gift out of pity was nothing but deceit.

Aiselin, mindful of this, had written the letter as if she was merely distributing leftover items from her family home, a formality of polite society.

In truth, these were gifts of concern from Aiselin, but she had sent them in such a way that Elente wouldn’t feel pitied, as if they were distributed among several acquaintances at once.

To anyone, she seemed too kind and virtuous.

Miss Elente, after reading the letters brimming with sincerity, quietly set them down.

“These are quite luxurious items. I’ll arrange them separately.”

“No, throw them all away.”

“…Pardon?”

“Throw them all away. Don’t let them catch my eye.”

Grinding her teeth in frustration, Miss Elente rose from her seat.

In the mirror, a fatigued and weary girl with an irritable expression stared back.

Adorned with pretty makeup and charming accessories, her face was clouded with jealousy and envy.

There stood an ugly human, engulfed in irrational jealousy without reason, harboring hostility towards a celestial being who was perfect in every way—beautiful, from a good family, and even kind-hearted.

Who was that? It was Elente herself.

Who was the villain that schemed to bury Aiselin when she first entered society? It was Elente herself.

Who was the vile woman, moved by Aiselin’s dignity and conviction yet unable to let go of her jealousy, desperately striving to win? It was her.

The woman in the mirror had unkempt hair and sallow skin, worn out by fatigue.

Who was this woman? Who is this?

Suddenly, Elente’s eyes widened as she stared silently at the mirror.

“Is Derek at the training ground now?”

“Yes. He’s preparing for the dawn practice. Once you’re done dressing…”

“What’s the point? I’ll be drenched in sweat and dirtied soon enough.”

“…Pardon?”

Without another word, Elente lifted the hem of her dress and trudged out of the bedroom door.

The servants hurried to dissuade her, but she paid them no heed.

*

– Thud.

Elentae burst through the entrance of the training ground, shaking off her hands as she ascended.

Derrick, who was polishing his sword on one side of the ground, looked up at her with surprise.

“Working hard again early this morning, Derrick. As usual, shall we start with sparring practice?”

“Miss. Did you come as soon as you woke up?”

“Isn’t it obvious that I should start with training as soon as I open my eyes?”

“That’s not what I…”

“What’s not what?”

It was about time for the mind to be buried in the slowly repeating fatigue. In fact, enduring this much was no ordinary bet.

Derrick had been intentionally cornering Elentae, but he didn’t expect such a reaction and had to take a moment to gauge the situation.

However, Elentae, after quietly observing Derrick, took a deep breath as if it was nothing and said,

“To beat Aiselin, every moment of training is too precious to waste. I need to hone my skills even more.”

“Miss Elentae.”

Derrick immediately realized that Elentae was cornered. Everything had gone according to his plan so far.

And in such a situation, he threw the question he had asked several times before once again.

“Sometimes giving up is also an option if it’s too hard.”

“Give up?”

Elentae narrowed her brows as if her sore spot had been scratched, then washed her face with her delicate hands and strode towards Derrick.

Then, glaring with wide eyes, she looked up at Derrick.

“Why should I give up? Derrick, you always suggest giving up whenever I seem to be struggling. Did you come here to dissuade me?”

“…”

“I wanted someone who could help me beat Aiselin, and you readily agreed. Wasn’t that our relationship? Why do you keep scratching at me with talk of giving up… May I ask why?”

“Miss Elentae.”

Why was she so obsessed with the contest against Aiselin?

Derrick had to know the reason. He had long realized that it wasn’t just envy and jealousy driving her.

Teaching someone is about understanding their underlying psychological desire for true achievement and guiding them accordingly.

Delivering knowledge is the role of an instructor, but leading people is the role of a mentor.

And Derrick was someone who had learned well what it meant to lead people through his experiences with Katia.

“So what if you can’t win?”

Watching Derrick now casually utter such words, Elentae felt a sudden, inexplicable anger rising. She had hired Derrick to beat Aiselin, not to listen to such futile talk.

Elentae grabbed Derrick by the collar.

Attempting to raise her voice, she suddenly caught Derek’s earnest gaze and quietly lowered her breath.

“If I can’t win… if I can’t win, I’m just too ugly.”

Eventually, Elente spoke as if spitting out the words.

“…”

The day she brought Derek home, she exposed her flaws and persuaded him.

But she, too, was a seasoned figure in social circles. She said as much, but she never truly revealed why she wanted to beat her.

Derek judged that he couldn’t help Elente in such a state.

“I told you. I’m the kind of person who slanders and undermines Aiselin. I may be called the pillar of the Belmiard earldom or the flower of the Rosea Salon, but at best, that’s all I was. Do you understand?”

“…”

“I’ve acknowledged how childish and ugly I’ve acted, and that Lady Aiselin is truly upright and admirable… I’ve understood it a hundred and a thousand times. That she’s not someone to compete with, I’ve long since accepted that. My mind and reason have understood it all. That there’s no reason to dislike or be hostile to Lady Aiselin, I’ve got that clear.”

With that, the anger had vanished from Elente’s eyes, which were twisted in a grip, and only sorrow was thickly lingering.

She spoke as if vomiting out a lump of mud that had been firmly pressed into her heart.

“But what can I do? This ugly and petty inferiority complex won’t go away…”

It was then that Derek began to feel a bit of understanding for her. After all, she was just a girl of that age.

No matter how childish and fleeting this inferiority complex was understood to be, it meant nothing. Because human emotions don’t always follow reason.

Elente, a noble girl who receives looks of respect wherever she goes, was still just a girl going through the tempest of adolescence.

If only reason matured too excessively, it would play separately from emotion. Knowing how inferiority can make a person ugly and vile, she felt even more contemptible for harboring such thoughts.

But, as she said, where were such emotions ever something that arose if one wished and didn’t if one didn’t?

– ‘You package it well. I too am well aware that my personality isn’t all that great.’

– ‘And so, there came a time when I felt utterly pathetic.’

It was then that Derek felt as if the puzzle pieces were finally coming together. She always acted like a proud rose, but there was a subtle self-loathing in her words and actions.

It was too faint a sign to notice unless one was determined, but once it caught the eye, its full form became visible.

Lady Elente must have sought ways to improve this ugly self. But human emotions aren’t so easily changed at the push of a button.

After various struggles and wanderings, the destination she arrived at was to beat Aiselin, even if it was something trivial.

In the end, what she so despised was not Aiselin, but herself.

Derek finally felt like he saw the bottom of Elente.

The reason he had repeatedly asked Elente if she could do anything was to confirm that resolve. Because the plan Derek had in mind would put her in danger if it was half-hearted.

“That’s right.”

Derek didn’t make a fuss or respond emotionally.

He simply and slowly made Elente, who was clutching his collar, let go of her grip. There was even a firmness in that action.

“…Then let’s win.”

Ellente’s eyes widened in shock.

Despite Ellente’s emotional reaction, Derek did not show the slightest sign of being flustered.

He was like a well-tempered blade of steel.