The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

As Desmond's suspicions were confirmed, he felt a jolt of surprise coursing through him, momentarily disrupting his composure. Gathering his wits, he calmly continued his breakfast, concealing any outward signs of distress.

[Beginning Terminating process...]

Almost immediately after responding, Desmond experienced a peculiar pinching sensation from within. In addition, his body gradually grew warmer, as if a dormant heat had been ignited.

Desmond endeavored to maintain an air of tranquility, ensuring that his parents remained oblivious to his inner turmoil. After a few tense moments, the sensations subsided, leaving him with an inexplicable void within.

[Wild Energy Terminated!]

[Gathering Information....]

[Information Collected!]

[Name: Wild Energy

Info: This energy is a raw, unprocessed force that has been contaminated by the previous energy explosion.

Conclusion: The energy infiltrates the Host's body when they are shocked, unconsciously absorbed through the mouth, eventually settling in the Host's brain. It has a subtle impact on the Host's suggestions and emotions.]

As Desmond absorbed this revelation, he took a deep breath, attempting to steady himself. The realization dawned upon him—such an occurrence was possible. He had never fathomed that the ambient energy surrounding him could be so perilous, especially if his body failed to adequately process it.

So, this energy isn't akin to oxygen, which can be inhaled without filtration? Desmond contemplated this newfound knowledge, inadvertently slipping into a state of deep thought. Unbeknownst to him, from an outsider's perspective, he appeared lost in a daydream. His movements ceased, prompting his parents to finally take notice.

"Son," Leona called out, concern lacing her voice, but her words failed to elicit any response from Desmond.

"Allow me." Leona's inclination to chant a spell was interrupted by her husband's intervention.

Bastian, employing his magical abilities, softly muttered an incantation. "Lifestyle Spell: Object Control."

The fork clutched in his hand began to float, defying the influence of both dimensions and gravity. On closer inspection, a gentle breeze materialized, lending support to the levitating fork. Strangely, this ethereal wind possessed weight, enabling it to manipulate even heavy objects such as a fork.

With deliberate precision, Bastian guided the fork's descent beneath the table, its trajectory aimed toward Desmond's feet.

A mischievous smile played upon Bastian's lips, his enthusiasm palpable as he reveled in his control over the fork's movements.

"Gotcha!"

However, instead of the anticipated cry of pain, the resounding sound was that of the manipulated fork clattering against the floor, having slipped from Bastian's control.

Bastian raised his gaze, met with the sight of his now-awakened son, who wore a knowing smile. Another fork, mysteriously suspended in mid-air, floated beside him, an emblem of Desmond's newfound ability.

"Hehe, you're finally awake!" Bastian settled back into his seat, locking eyes with his son defiantly.

"Thank you for your assistance, father," Desmond expressed his gratitude as he skillfully controlled his fork, gently returning it to its place on the table.

Once the family had finished their meal, a sense of anticipation filled the air as Bastian and Desmond prepared to adjourn to the backyard for their practice session.

"Wait a moment." Leona interjected, her voice poised and elegant, as she delicately wiped her hands with a handkerchief. "Today, let us set aside our practice and focus on making preparations for your departure, Desmond."

Desmond and Bastian retreated to their seats as the maids gracefully exited the dining room, leaving the family to their discussion.

"Firstly, I received word from Clementine that Diana will be arriving in two days," Leona informed them, her gaze filled with hope as she directed it toward her son. "I trust that you will treat her with utmost gentleness."

"Mother, in reality, I only approached her due to winning a bet," Desmond explained, eager to prevent any misconceptions that could lead to a more serious relationship.

"Regardless of the circumstances, she will be here, and you must exhibit the qualities we have instilled in you. Have we not taught you how to be polite?" Leona dismissed her son's excuses with a snap, her eyes sparkling with determination. Her mouth curved upward, creating the illusion of a smile.

Desmond's mind raced with conflicting thoughts. If it were merely a matter of being polite, he could comply, but the glint in her eyes suggested otherwise. "With pleasure, mother," he acquiesced, aware that prolonging the discussion would only exacerbate this trivial matter.

Well, at the very least, during our journey to the academy, I need only treat her as a 'guest' and maintain a level of 'politeness,' Desmond mused within his mind.

"Furthermore, on the same day, the royal troops promised by Weston will also arrive," Leona continued, shifting her gaze towards her husband.

Bastian understood his wife's implications—that it was a reminder of their agreement. "Grandmaster Weston is indeed a man of his word," Bastian concurred, and both he and Leona turned their attention back to their son.

"Rest easy, son. The royal troops will serve as your main bodyguards, accompanying you to the academy," Bastian explained, revealing the intended role of these reinforcements.

Ah, I see. The royal troops they mentioned are likely the same mercenaries who escorted Alice to the academy, Desmond realized. "Yes, father," he responded, acknowledging the arrangement.

"Now, let us discuss the bodyguard you have hired." Their gazes narrowed, urging Desmond to provide a comprehensive explanation.

Desmond's confidence shone through his smile. "Worry not, for the departure date has been set. I shall inform my bodyguard accordingly." With a triumphant clap of his hands, Desmond summoned a maid to fetch parchment and a pen, ready to record the necessary details.

With the necessary equipment in hand, the maid swiftly brought parchment and a pen to Desmond's side. He wrote with remarkable speed, filling the page with his words, before handing the letter to the maid. "Deliver this to the guild and ensure it reaches the hands of the staff there."

"Yes, young master," the maid replied dutifully. She murmured an incantation and cast a spell, summoning a bird made of swirling winds—an embodiment of the Basic Spell: Bird Communication. The avian messenger took flight, its destination set for the guild under the control of the maid. The Desmond family members watched with bated breath as the bird soared into the distance.

After a few tense minutes, the little bird returned, carrying a different parchment note. The maid retrieved the letter from the bird's talons and passed it to Desmond. He unfolded the note and read its contents aloud. "The bodyguard will arrive on the same day as the royal guards and Diana's arrival."

Desmond lifted his gaze only to find his parents observing him with curiosity from a distance. As their child made eye contact, they promptly returned to their seats. "Um... you've certainly grown, my boy," Bastian commented, taking a sip of his wine while swallowing audibly.

"Yes, my dear, our son becomes more peculiar with each passing day," Leona chimed in, joining her husband in savoring her wine with closed eyes.

Confusion washed over Desmond as he observed his parents' reactions. What was wrong with his earlier actions? He couldn't comprehend it.

"We never taught you how to read or write," Bastian admitted awkwardly, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

"We only focused on teaching you about currency and basic communication," Leona confessed, feeling a pang of guilt as a parent who believed she had failed to adequately educate her child.

"Ahh," Desmond nodded, realizing their underlying guilt. "It's no big deal; I learned from the maids," he reassured, glancing at the maid who stood beside him and sharing a subtle wink.

The maid caught onto her young master's intent and chimed in, her voice filled with conviction. "Indeed, my lord and lady. You entrusted us with the task of tutoring the young master, and we have successfully educated him to the point of negotiation skills."

Desmond regarded the maid skeptically, only to receive a thumbs-up in response. He was left dumbfounded by the maid's audacious fib.

Puffing out his chest with pride, Bastian fixed his gaze on his son. "That's right, my son. Even though we couldn't personally teach you, we made sure the maids were there to fulfill that role."

Not affording Desmond a chance to argue, Bastian swiftly added, "Since it's already noon and we won't be able to practice, you may retire to your room and rest. Your father and I will be heading to the market for some shopping." With that, Bastian took hold of Leona's hand and hastened out of the room.

Desmond was taken aback by his father's increasingly absurd behavior, finding it ridiculous as time went on. He couldn't comprehend why his parents were so embarrassed to admit their mistakes and instead resorted to lame excuses to escape the situation. It was a shock to witness his father's actions unfold in such a manner.

As for his mother, Desmond noticed a newfound shyness that she displayed, akin to that of a girl experiencing the first flushes of love. His attention then shifted to the maid, who had covered her face. Perplexed, he inquired, "Why are you covering your face?"

"N... nothing, young master," the maid stammered, hastily leaving the room.

Desmond was astonished by the reactions of both his parents and the maid. Initially, he had thought they were fleeing in shame, but the maid's response added another layer of confusion to the situation.

* Swoosh *

Suddenly, a gust of wind swept into the room, causing Desmond's body to shiver. It was then that he realized his chest was bare, his hand making direct contact with his skin.

In disbelief, he touched his body with both hands, his gaze sweeping over himself. "I forgot to put on my clothes," he realized, a wave of shame washing over him as he remembered his attempt to act cool in front of his parents. "Why didn't Mother and Father mention it earlier?"

Desmond couldn't help but voice his frustration, "And why are the maids behaving as if all of this is normal!?" With a flicker of his custom spell, his body became enveloped in sunlight, gradually fading from sight. In haste, Desmond made his way to his room and closed the door behind him. "Father must be thinking all sorts of strange things about me now," he muttered to himself.

Walking over to the mirror, Desmond observed his well-defined six-pack body and the darkened expression on his face. "But perhaps this is a good opportunity for an experiment." After quickly donning his clothes, he set out to search for new items to incorporate into his ongoing experiments.