The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

Leona's gaze remained fixed on her son, her eyes tracing his features with a mixture of exasperation and tenderness. The resemblance to her late husband was uncanny, she thought, shaking her head in disbelief. "You're just like your father," she murmured under her breath.

A heavy sigh escaped Leona's lips before she finally relented. "Alright then, we'll start your training tomorrow."

"Hahaha." The sound of her words was instantly followed by Bastian's boisterous laughter as he approached his son. "Good, good! Young warriors should possess that fiery passion!" His laughter echoed through the room as he firmly patted Desmond's shoulder, his hand repeatedly connecting with a thud.

Abruptly, Bastian's jovial expression vanished, replaced by a perplexed frown. An icy chill seemed to seep into his bones, and he glanced at his wife, finding her gaze fixed on him with an intense glare. Sensing something amiss, he withdrew his hand from Desmond's shoulder, only to see his son wincing in pain.

"Son, you should speak up when it hurts," Bastian's voice quivered with concern as he began chanting an incantation. A soft, greenish glow emanated from his hand as he directed the healing spell towards Desmond. "See, honey? This will help our son regain his health."

Once he finished healing his son, Bastian hastily excused himself from the dining room. "I'm feeling a little tired; I think I'll go rest for a while, my dear." Before leaving, he managed to wink at his wife, though her cold stare remained fixed upon him.

As Desmond observed his parents' interaction, he found himself struggling to comprehend how such mismatched individuals could fall in love with each other. The puzzle of their relationship continued to confound him. Despite witnessing these moments, he gradually began to sense the resurgence of a feeling long forgotten—the notion of "family."

Yet, the emotions that swelled within Desmond were confined to a bittersweet nostalgia. Even if his family were to perish right before his eyes, he couldn't muster genuine concern. At best, a twinge of pain might flicker within him, but it would be fleeting.

The world of the mafia was devoid of love; its denizens were solely driven by the weight of debts to be repaid. A mafioso was no hero capable of saving everyone, not even those closest to them. This was a hard-learned lesson from Desmond's previous life as a young master.

Unbeknownst to him, Desmond had made a silent vow, his resolve deepening with each passing moment. Leona, too, sensed a subtle change in her son's gaze, although she couldn't quite pinpoint what had shifted.

"Boy, you must be wondering how we can remain so calm, even after narrowly escaping death," Leona mused, realizing her son's lingering gaze upon her departed husband. The weight of her words seemed to jolt Desmond from his reverie, leaving him momentarily speechless. His eyelids lifted, and he turned to face his mother, a forced smile forming on his lips.

"Yes, mother," Desmond replied, his voice tinged with a mix of resignation and determination.

Leona couldn't shake off the unease she felt about her son's forced smile, but she decided to set aside her doubts for now and approached him, her fingers gently stroking his head. "Come, let's have a conversation in the yard," she suggested, motioning for him to follow. The maids, always attentive to their young master, trailed behind them.

As they made their way towards the courtyard, a flicker of something caught Desmond's eye. It was a fleeting glimpse, a spark of recognition or understanding, triggered by his mother's affectionate gesture.

Once they settled at a desk nestled near the serene courtyard, Leona began recounting the incredible journey she and her late husband had endured, leading up to Desmond's birth. Desmond found himself somewhat skeptical, observing how his mother animatedly narrated the tale, her hands gesturing and mimicking the scenes, even adding sound effects.

For a brief moment, Desmond's gaze drifted upward, captivated by the vast expanse of blue sky and fluffy clouds. Thoughts swirled in his mind—Dragon Class, Aristocratic Technocracy Organization, Grimm suspicion, Guild, Mercenaries, and now the roaming Beasts Race. Each of these elements had become entwined in his life, shaping his destiny.

His eyes returned to his mother, his expression now a mix of curiosity and contemplation.

Unbeknownst to Desmond, Leona's eyes were fixed on him during that brief interlude, studying him intently. "You've changed a lot, Desmond," she thought to herself, a tinge of sadness mingling with her observations.

Every time Leona returned home and caught sight of her son, she felt an ever-widening gap between them. She couldn't help but feel that Desmond had never truly cared about her or his late father. Despite that, the love of a mother for her child remained unwavering, even if he were to transform into a demon.

From the time Desmond was one year old, people had marveled at his rapid progress, viewing him as a prodigious genius. Leona recalled how she herself had struggled during her youth to master a single spell, while Bastian, through sheer determination, had risen above mediocrity.

Leona speculated that her son's transformation could be attributed to the long periods of separation they endured and the profound impact of his first act of murder. She dared not fathom the extent to which Desmond might change, but she had hoped that he would at least be able to protect his own family.

Unbeknownst to both Leona and Desmond, they had become fully immersed in the story, their emotions carried away by its narrative. Even Desmond, who had initially grown bored, found himself captivated by his mother's words.

Annie and Laura, the maids who had faithfully served the family for years, watched the tender interaction between mother and son. Their hearts warmed, and in that moment, they couldn't help but recall their own past experiences.

"It's like being at home..." Annie, who rarely spoke up, suddenly found herself voicing her thoughts, her voice filled with warmth and tenderness.

"Annie, you've finally opened up," Laura said, a radiant smile adorning her face. Tears welled up in her eyes as she heard the familiar tone from her friend, a tone she had dearly missed.

Annie's expression, however, quickly returned to its usual cold and impassive state. "Yes, but I haven't forgotten how our lives were shattered in a single night," she replied, her voice tinged with bitterness.

"That's why we should be grateful that the young master invited us to be part of this family," Laura remarked, her gaze fixed on Desmond. "I hope the young master keeps his promise."

"At first, I didn't believe it, but seeing his growth, perhaps it will work," Annie spoke up, recalling how she had once underestimated Desmond when he was just a child, unaware of the pivotal role he would play in saving their lives.

Once Leona finished recounting her tale, she realized there was something important she needed to address. "Boy, how have you been surviving without money? I don't recall sending any gold coins in the past." It struck her as odd—seeing the new maids, the luxurious wines, and even her son's demeanor, all suggesting a wealth they seemingly hadn't possessed before.

Desmond's expression grew subtle upon hearing this question. "I...sold...our wine?" he replied, feigning confusion and innocence.

Leona's eyes widened, and she immediately embraced her son, rubbing her cheek against his. "How cute!" she exclaimed.

Desmond froze, taken aback by his mother's sudden display of affection. Did this include deceiving her? His face twitched, and he stood motionless for several minutes.

"You're a clever child, yes, yes, it's fine. It's just wine," Leona reassured him, unable to contain her urge to hug him even more tightly, her hand affectionately caressing his hair.

In the distance, Annie could be seen restraining Laura, holding her back. "Master... young... young master..." Laura's demeanor was akin to that of a person intoxicated, as if she would devour Desmond if not for Annie's intervention. A shadow of a heart shape seemed to dance in her eyes.

...

The following day, their lives took on a joyful rhythm, much like any other ordinary family. Desmond would train with his father in the mornings, practice new spells taught by his mother in the afternoons, and at night, he would review footage of the day's training.

During their practice sessions, both Leona and Bastian could sense a significant transformation taking place within their son's body. Even the energy emanating from him seemed to possess a subtle, unfamiliar quality.

Desmond had been careful not to reveal the full extent of his power during his practice sessions, holding back his energy equivalent to that of a 2nd-class wizard. His physical abilities had also reached the level of a 1st-class swordsman. It was a secret he kept to himself, aware that he possessed extraordinary talents.

In the days that followed, life for the Desmond family settled into a relatively peaceful routine. They strolled through the bustling square, indulging in small pleasures such as purchasing new wines. Amidst the enjoyment, Desmond remained focused on his training. Leona, too, began to notice that her son possessed an abundance of energy that surpassed that of other children.

Bastian, on the other hand, had become increasingly aware of the fluidity and grace in Desmond's movements, reminiscent of a seasoned 1st-class swordsman. Yet, they dismissed these observations as mere manifestations of his exceptional gifts.

During this time, Bastian and Leona visited the king to provide a detailed report on the beast race, much to the satisfaction of Prime Minister Sanders, who appreciated the additional information.

To their surprise, during the meeting, King Edward brought up the topic of Desmond, revealing that their son had formed a friendship with the king's own daughter. Bastian and Leona were taken aback, fearing that the conversation would turn towards the subject of marriage.

Fortunately, King Edward did not broach the topic of marriage, ending the discussion when his daughter expressed her intention to bring Desmond to the palace. The atmosphere in the throne room grew tense and quiet, but this unexpected turn of events provided Bastian and Leona with a convenient excuse to make their exit and return home.

And so, the days passed, swiftly transforming into three years. A transparent screen materialized before Desmond's eyes, displaying the completion of a project involving the use of natural energy in items. His vacation had also come to an end, signaling that it was time for him to enter the academy.