The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

The realization hit Clementine like a jolt of lightning. How was it possible? Even the individuals she had consulted about Desmond's condition had stated that only a second-level wizard could heal his arm, which meant...

Desmond, too, noticed Clementine's peculiar demeanor and the fixation of her gaze on his hand. "My hand was healed by the Guild Master," he clarified, purposefully emphasizing the word 'Master.' Desmond knew that this Guild Master was not only a friend but also a rival to Weston.

Clementine's expression underwent a swift transformation, as if the pieces of a puzzle had suddenly fallen into place. Yet, as the memory of Desmond's menacing aura directed towards her resurfaced, her countenance twisted slightly, revealing a hint of unease. It was as if Desmond's eyes had transformed into those of a snake, slanted and filled with a veiled threat.

"To address your previous question, it does not exist. It is merely related to my parents," Desmond replied, realizing that he had been inadvertently emanating his killing intent. He had noticed the shift in Clementine's demeanor.

Desmond recognized that he still required Clementine's assistance. However, he now harbored the confidence that he could eliminate her if she were to betray him and spread word of his parentage.

Though they had known each other for years, Desmond considered a friend to be an enemy who had yet to reveal their true intentions. He preferred to surround himself with individuals who possessed clear goals rather than those who excelled at presenting a benevolent façade while harboring ulterior motives.

Upon hearing Desmond's words, Clementine locked her gaze with his, recognizing the weight of his statement. This revelation was likely to have a significant impact on their future interactions.

"Very well, tell me everything, but first, let me inquire about your preparations for the next three years," Clementine requested, resting her hands forward and propping her chin upon them.

"Three years..." Desmond mused, contemplating the significance of the timeframe. Could it be related to his enrollment at the academy? "I have made some arrangements, hired a few 'bodyguards'," Desmond responded calmly.

"Heh," Clementine peered into Desmond's eyes through the mirror, attempting to discern the truth behind his words. This kid is just as I anticipated. "In that case, my only request is for you to take Diana with you on the day of your departure," she stated, her gaze silently conveying that she would not accept any refusal.

"Hold on, how can you be certain that the assistance you offer is worth bringing Diana along?" Desmond challenged, returning Clementine's gaze. The prospect of including someone like Diana would only invite trouble.

Desmond had planned his journey to the academy to be one of tranquility and free from unnecessary complications.

"I know," Clementine replied, her brow furrowing at Desmond's defiance. "However, the aid you 'might' receive could potentially outweigh the responsibility of looking after my daughter," she declared, her gaze unwavering, hinting at the immeasurable value of her proposition.

Clementine's words grew harsher, as she emphasized, "I just want to remind you that we are merely individuals seeking mutual profit." Her tone conveyed a sense of detachment, as if she no longer considered Desmond a friend.

"If he continues to behave arrogantly like this, he might prove useless in the future," Clementine thought to herself, fixing Desmond with a cold gaze.

Desmond, however, was unfazed by this shift. This was precisely what he desired - a clear-cut exchange with no unnecessary complications or emotional entanglements. This was the essence of being human. He feigned panic and hesitation, saying, "That will be difficult..."

Although he didn't explicitly state his request, Clementine could still discern his meaning. It indicated that Clementine possessed a wider network of connections than he had initially believed.

"How about...if I were to add another condition?" The once-warm conversation between them had dissolved, replaced by a cold calculation of their respective gains.

"That's impossible; your initial request has already surpassed the value I have offered," Clementine coldly responded.

Desmond, brimming with confidence, proposed, "How about this? I will personally protect your daughter." He knew he could defeat Gibson, but he chose not to reveal that fact.

Clementine's perception of Desmond underwent an instant transformation. Even though she was aware that he could defeat Gibson in a single strike, protecting Diana on their journey would prove challenging with only that level of skill.

"This kid doesn't realize the vastness of the world," she mused to herself, letting out a cold laugh. "I admit that you can defeat Gibson, but the challenges you will face in the future will be vastly different."

"What if you are attacked by the Beast Race? And what if your bodyguards are occupied with other beasts?!"

In Clementine's view, Desmond relied too heavily on his bodyguards, which bred overconfidence. If Desmond had made this claim prior to her receiving the news about the Beast Race, she might have held some hope in him.

But now, the situation had changed significantly, and she demanded proper preparations from Desmond to ensure her daughter's safety.

Desmond observed Clementine's demeanor and raised an eyebrow. "Tch, this complicates matters further," he thought to himself. He understood that any mother would want her child to be safeguarded from harm.

The situation before him, coupled with the killing aura he had unleashed earlier that had offended Clementine, left Desmond feeling exasperated. "What a perfect mess," he sighed, realizing that he had no further leverage to increase his offer.

Desmond couldn't help but feel disappointed that his relationship with Clementine had taken a turn for the worse. He observed her pitying gaze, as if she believed he had failed her expectations. "Well, everyone is entitled to their own opinions. But this sudden change caught me off guard," he reflected silently.

"I appreciate the help you've provided thus far," Desmond spoke sincerely. Clementine had indeed been a valuable source of support in the past, but that was when his parents were still alive.

With the current uncertainty surrounding his parents' fate, Desmond didn't know if they were alive or dead. He could only imagine that many people would react similarly to Clementine in the future when it came to his family. "I hope Alice is safe wherever she is."

Turning his focus towards the mirror, Desmond regarded Clementine with a cold gaze. "It seems our friendship ends here. You are not willing to assist me in difficult times and only seek to use me," he stated calmly, although he struggled to contain his anger. His anger wasn't directed at Clementine, nor did he harbor any hatred towards her.

He was angry with himself for being so naive as to believe in the true meaning of the word 'friend.' "Perhaps because I felt a sense of control, I forgot what it felt like to be betrayed," he mused to himself.

To Desmond, his request held equal value to Clementine's. He would fulfill his duty by looking after her daughter with the entire mercenary guild promised by Katrina, while Clementine would gather information about the whereabouts of his parents.

Desmond believed that Clementine was merely testing his sense of responsibility when she inquired about his preparations for the academy. He found it hard to believe that she had no knowledge about the "bodyguards" he had hired, given her extensive connections. On the other hand, Clementine, who observed Desmond's reaction, grew even more disgusted with him.

It was an unfortunate reality that privileged children often displayed arrogance, politeness, and sweetness while their parents were alive, only to change their behavior once their wealth or parental support was no longer present.

Initially, Clementine had believed that Desmond was different, but as he arrogantly refused her request and shamelessly added his own conditions, she saw his true nature.

Clementine let out an indignant snort, abruptly severing the flow of energy through the mirror. Desmond's words hung in the air, and he fell silent, his mind swirling with contemplation. Doubt seeped into his thoughts. "Perhaps my request is unreasonable," he wondered, questioning the validity of his own desires.

He was acutely aware that Clementine's influential connections were predominantly derived from her husband, a high-ranking figure within the kingdom's army. Desmond shook his head, dismissing the notion that his request was unjustified. "No, my demand is reasonable.

Or maybe she fails to grasp the fact that I've hired the most skilled mercenary from the guild," he mused, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. But then, he quickly pushed the thought aside. "Forget it. I must find a way to obtain that information, or..."

Desmond's eyes sparked with determination, his hands tightening into clenched fists as he gazed up at the expanse of the beautiful blue sky. "I must grow stronger," he whispered resolutely, the urgency resonating in his voice. With a decisive clap of his hands, he summoned the maid into his presence.

"Yes, young master?" The maid froze upon entering Desmond's room, her eyes widening in alarm as his sinister laughter reverberated through the air, causing the curtains to ripple in its wake. To her surprise, she could almost discern the shadow of a colossal black dragon looming behind her young master.

Overwhelmed by fear, the maid's legs gave way, and she collapsed onto the floor, her sobs uncontrollable. Desmond, noticing her distress, approached her with concern etched on his face, gently placing his hand on her trembling shoulder. He felt the chill that enveloped her body, sending shivers down his spine. Clapping his hands again, he summoned another maid to assist.

"Yes, young master?" The new maid entered and, upon witnessing Desmond's obvious panic and his pointed gesture towards the fallen maid, instantly understood the gravity of the situation. "Attend to her and summon the other maids here.

Ensure she receives proper healing and administer natural remedies," Desmond instructed her, making it clear that finding a skilled medic among the maids was a priority.

As the two maids hurriedly left the room, Desmond reclined on his bed, his mind troubled by the incident. He tried to unravel the cause behind the maid's tears, his thoughts briefly drifting to amusing memories from his previous world. Amidst his contemplation, the sound of weeping had pierced his consciousness. "Is it because of me?

What did she witness?" he furrowed his brow, frustrated by his lack of control.

Lying there, Desmond made a solemn vow to himself. He resolved to become stronger, to master his emotions, and command the reins of his own destiny. He understood that attaining a position of power was imperative to achieve his goals, and he was prepared to undertake whatever measures necessary to ascend to that level.