The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

"Lower your voice and wait here," Desmond commanded Laura firmly, his voice carrying a note of authority. He disappeared into the underground, leaving Laura eager with anticipation. The forbidden allure of what lay beyond compelled her, yet she remained at the boundary, well aware of the unspoken rule that bound all maids in Desmond's house.

As Desmond descended into the depths of the underground, his eyes widened in astonishment. "What the hell?" he exclaimed, his voice echoing through the cavernous passageway. The once sturdy rock had transformed into a viscous brownish-black mud, clinging to the walls like clay instead of the familiar brick. Weeds now carpeted the floor, claiming their territory.

The realization struck Desmond forcefully, his mind grappling with the repercussions of his ritual. "I only left it for one night," he muttered incredulously. The consequences of his actions had extended far beyond his expectations.

Proceeding cautiously, Desmond relied on a small ball of light, casting an ethereal glow that illuminated his path. Every step he took resounded loudly, the rustling of grass beneath his feet a constant reminder of the altered environment. A persistent itch on his ankle signaled the intrusion of a peculiar ant that had sunk its mandibles into his flesh.

Acting swiftly, Desmond conjured a control element spell, harnessing the power of the wind to create a gentle gust inside his shoe. The breeze carried the audacious ant into the palm of his hand, granting him a close inspection. Its vibrant colors surpassed those of ordinary ants, with two formidable horns protruding from its head and golden pincers adorning its mouth.

Its legs resembled sturdy iron bars, ready to march resolutely.

In this world, such an ant was deemed "normal" according to the knowledge Desmond had gleaned from countless books. "No matter how you look at it, if this ant were in my old world, it would have been the subject of scientific experiments," he mused, contemplating the stark contrast between the realms.

Just as the ant attempted to sink its fangs into his skin once more, a sudden ignition engulfed the tiny creature, reducing it to a pile of smoldering ashes. Desmond marveled at the inexplicable phenomenon, watching as the remnants drifted away on a gentle breeze.

Meanwhile, Laura anxiously lingered outside, her concern growing with each passing moment. She strained to discern any signs of activity, her senses heightened. Faint crackling sounds reached her ears, intensifying her worry.

The inner conflict wrestled within her—should she breach the boundaries and venture into the forbidden underground in search of Desmond, or should she exercise patience and wait a little longer?

Desmond, now free from the burning ant's presence, employed a swift wind spell to disperse the remaining ashes as he retraced his steps, keen to survey his transformed surroundings with renewed scrutiny.

The small ball of light cast its radiant glow, illuminating the passageway and revealing a plethora of peculiar creatures that roamed the depths. "Beyond the change in texture, mutated beasts inhabit this place as well," Desmond pondered, observing cockroaches with six wings and rats sporting an extra set of legs.

As he ventured further into the passage, Desmond's stride abruptly halted. Before him stood an imposing thorny vine, barring his progress. With determination in his eyes, he extended his hand, and a magic circle materialized on his palm. "Burn," he commanded, and flames gracefully emerged from the center of his palm, gradually shaping into a sword the size of a log.

The fiery blade incinerated every obstacle in its path, obliterating the stubborn vines, eradicating plant life, and even reducing the strange mutated beasts to ash.

The flaming sword seemed to possess a life of its own, dancing with ethereal wings that captivated Desmond's gaze. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of surprise at the potency of the spell he had cast. "Could it be that my energy density has been enhanced?" he pondered, contemplating the implications of his newfound abilities.

Desmond examined the residual flames he had conjured, noticing that not even a trace of burnt animal bones remained. "This must be connected to the class change I underwent," he reasoned.

Curiosity piqued, he commanded the transparent screen to display his current status. The system obliged, swiftly scanning his being and presenting the following information:

[Scanning Host Body…]

[Scan Complete!]

[

-Status-

Name: Desmond

Gender: Male

Age: 7 years

Race: Half-Human (50%)

Class: 1st Swordsman / 0th Dragonslayer

Occupation: None

Unique Energy: 22.78 / 32.78 [+0]

Strength: 27.49 [+0]

Agility: 20.4 [+0]

Stamina: 6.30 / 6.35 [+0]

Dragon Essence: 0

]

"It's been quite some time since I last checked my own stats," Desmond murmured, his attention caught by a new addition in his status. "The +0 must refer to the Dragon Essence mentioned by the system."

"Well, for now, I must acclimate to this newfound enchanted energy. Although the density is not as potent as that of a 2nd class, it should suffice to contend with five 1st class adversaries, in my estimation," Desmond mused. However, he furrowed his brow as he realized that the spell had consumed more energy than he had anticipated.

Desmond sighed, fully aware of the price that accompanied great strength. "With great power comes a great cost to bear."

He observed that the current spell demanded a higher energy expenditure, but it also amplified the spell's offensive prowess, despite being a built-in ability. "Yet, as long as I maintain control over this power, the energy consumption should remain manageable," he reasoned.

Desmond closed the transparent screen, his gaze fixed ahead. "Seems like something's blocking it," he muttered. The spell he activated was meant to work in one direction only, so it should have dissipated by now. However, as he looked on, he noticed that the flaming sword remained intact, lodged in an impenetrable barrier.

Even the sword's fiery wings failed to melt whatever substance obstructed its path.

Stepping forward, Desmond halted the fire sword spell. The blade gradually diminished, returning to his hand before vanishing completely. His eyes narrowed as he examined the obstruction before him. It turned out to be a colossal tree root, frozen solid in place. Not only did it hinder his progress, but it also barred access to the ritual room.

Desmond furrowed his brow and mused, "I don't recall placing a spell here, which means..."

Curiosity got the better of him, and he attempted to peer through the roots. To his surprise, he caught sight of a figure extending its hands towards the ice-cold barrier. A wicked grin curled across Desmond's lips as he reached down with his hand. The ground beneath him came alive, surging with vitality.

Soon, a massive arrow formed, but it wasn't just one—countless arrows made of earth materialized behind Desmond, ready for his command. "Fire," he whispered, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and the arrows obeyed, hurtling towards the ice root.

*Boom* *Boom* *Boom* The resounding explosions filled the air as the arrows struck their target. The ice root proved sturdier than expected, withstanding the assault of ten arrows simultaneously.

*Crack* However, when the eleventh arrow pierced the same spot, a hairline fracture snaked across the surface of the ice root. Desmond, positioned right in front, witnessed the emergence of the crack. Remarkably, not a single arrow or ice shard struck his body, as he had coated himself in a protective layer of water. Furthermore, he had full control over the arrows' trajectory.

*Swoosh* *Swoosh* The sound of arrows being released from their bows resounded loudly behind Desmond. It was as if the supply of arrows was endless. As long as Desmond's energy and resources held steady, he could continue the assault indefinitely.

Fresh volleys of arrows pummeled the same crack, gradually weakening the ice root's structure. With each strike, the crack grew more brittle, signaling imminent collapse.

"Status," Desmond commanded, eager to assess his condition.

[Scanning Host Body...]

[Scan Complete!]

-Status-

Name: Desmond

Gender: Male

Age: 7 years

Race: Half-Human (50%)

Class: 1st Swordsman / 0th Dragonslayer

Occupation: None

Unique Energy: 12.78 / 32.78 [+0]

Strength: 27.49 [+0]

Agility: 20.4 [+0]

Stamina: 6.20 / 6.35 [+0]

Dragon Essence: 0

"A bit wasteful... but oh, so exhilarating!" Desmond's eyes shimmered with excitement. It had been a long time since he experienced such a thrilling sensation. "One final blow, bam!" With this declaration, he focused his control on a single, smaller arrow.

*Swoosh* The arrow, smaller in size than its predecessors, streaked through the air with increased velocity.

*Boom* The roots of the giant tree, protected by a thick layer of ice, crumbled, revealing flammable roots beneath.

"Hello, miss elf." Desmond's voice broke the silence as the ice shattered, granting him a clear view

of the figure responsible for activating the spell.

*Pop* The moment Desmond greeted her, he noticed the elf coughing up blood. Her complexion turned pallid, her frail form seeming even thinner. "Well done, miss elf. Enduring such conditions is truly commendable," Desmond praised, his gaze intent on studying her subsequent reactions.

The elf was one that Desmond had acquired through an auction—a female elf with short, yellow hair, the telltale sign of her kind, and a figure as alluring as a human's.

At that time, she had been under the influence of a spell that deprived her of rational thought, yet her vision remained intact. Witnessing Desmond activate an unfamiliar spell had filled her with terror. Back in the elven country, she had heard tales of spells utilizing elf blood, deeming them dangerous and lethal.

However, what followed surprised her. The gentle touch of a small dragon brushed against her, and a sensation of unconsciousness overcame her. When she regained her senses, the ritual room stood empty, the wealthy young man gone. It was her chance to escape, yet as she prepared to flee, she inadvertently caught sight of a peculiar creature that made her scream.

To her relief, the "creature" remained still, showing no signs of aggression. Curiosity compelled her to approach and discover that it was, in fact, a Demon child.

This realization triggered a memory—it was this child who had imprisoned her in the room. Employing her race's unique spell, she attempted to assess the boy's condition. From the ground below, a small tree root sprouted, for elven magic and nature were inseparable, their energy distinct from that of humans.

The tiny roots then infiltrated the demon child's body through his nostrils and mouth. As they entered, the elf observed the adjacent tree roots slowly withering away.