The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

"Young master!" The urgent, feminine voice reverberated through the air, instantly grabbing Desmond's attention. The door to his room swung open without warning, unleashing a gust of wind that tousled his hair.

Laura? But I just spoke to her; it's impossible for her to arrive so swiftly. Unless...

Desmond, sprawled on the floor, struggled to lift his head, but before he could make any progress, a hand as gentle as silk cradled his face and supported his weary skull.

"Please wait a moment, young master." This time, Desmond's gaze focused on the maid's face, allowing him to truly see her.

Her long crimson tresses cascaded down her back, framing a visage adorned with slender reddish lips, tied up in a ponytail. Lime-green eyes locked onto his face, a faint blush adorning her cheeks, enhancing her beauty.

Desmond attempted to speak, but he sensed that doing so would only drain his already depleted energy reserves further.

"My apologies for barging in, young master." The maid gingerly maneuvered Desmond's body, causing his drowsy countenance to nudge against a pair of soft, yielding mounds.

"Ah, forgive me, young master." Realizing her mistake, the maid's cheeks flushed scarlet, her embarrassment palpable. Gently, she scooped Desmond up in her arms, cradling him like royalty before settling him onto the bed.

Now comfortably resting, Desmond managed to part his lips. "Laura, please inform my parents that I will be taking a complete rest today." Every fiber of his being felt utterly fatigued, even the act of speaking threatened to lull him into an even deeper slumber.

"Oh, and place the necklace on the table," Desmond tried to convey with his eyes, pointing towards the forgotten jewelry strewn across the floor.

Observing this, Laura remained perplexed, failing to grasp his intentions. She approached Desmond, leaning against the edge of the bed as she inquired, "My apologies, young master, but which necklace?" Her gaze scanned his entire form, yet the necklace eluded her sight.

Tch, Desmond emitted an irritable hiss. He had been trying incessantly to guide her eyes towards the necklace, yet this incompetent maid remained oblivious.

Determined, Desmond activated his spell, manifesting a shimmering trail of energy that snaked its way towards the necklace's hiding place.

"Waahh!" Laura gasped in astonishment as she witnessed the mystical energy materialize before her eyes, her gaze shifting between her young master and the ethereal display.

Following his line of sight, Laura's eyes fell upon the necklace nestled beneath a nearby chair. "Ah, there it is, young master," she announced, retrieving the pendant and positioning it as instructed by Desmond.

With a turn and a soft smile directed at Desmond, Laura spoke softly, "If you'll excuse me, young master." She then headed toward the exit of Desmond's room, ready to depart.

But before she exited, Laura stole one last glance at Desmond, her face beaming with happiness. Young master wasn't furious about my earlier blunder; in fact, he called out to me! I wonder, though, to whom does this necklace truly belong? Laura pondered, her thoughts swirling.

Stepping into the corridor, Laura couldn't contain her excitement, her feet dancing lightly on the floor. Meanwhile, Desmond remained awake, his mind still entranced by the effects of the necklace bestowed upon him by Alice.

I just hope this necklace actually works, Desmond thought, his mind riddled with uncertainty. If it doesn't, he would be forced to reconsider his plans.

...

The following day, Desmond awoke in his room, feeling remarkably refreshed. He retrieved the necklace and delicately fastened it around his neck.

"I don't sense anything." Although the necklace emitted a brief glow upon wearing it, the radiance swiftly faded, leaving the pendant looking as ordinary as ever.

"System Scan." Riddled with doubts, Desmond resorted to his last recourse for confirmation.

[Scanning the target...]

[Scan Complete!]

[

Name: Dragon Necklace

Grade: Rare

Information: This necklace, gifted by Alice, brims with an abundance of affection, bestowing it with a unique allure.

System Conclusion: This item has undergone powerful enchantments and is inscribed with an Item Modifier spell, enabling it to store and continuously activate any spell. With each activation, the strain on the necklace increases.

Spell: 1/1

Durability: 999/1000

]

"Oh, it actually works!" Desmond exclaimed, his gaze fixated on the window. He muttered to himself, "This is the moment." Clutching the necklace tightly, he stepped out of his room.

In the dining room, his family engaged in their customary elegant and tranquil breakfast. After Desmond finished his meal, he rose and directed his gaze toward his parents. "Mother, Father, I wish to have one final practice session."

"Understood!" Surprisingly, his father was the first to agree. He stood up, heading straight for the rear entrance of the kitchen. "What are you waiting for? Follow me."

Even Leona was taken aback by her husband's response. She glanced at her son and smiled. "Come along, for this is our last practice before you depart for the academy."

Desmond nodded in acknowledgment and joined them as they made their way to the backyard.

...

In the backyard, Desmond positioned himself opposite his father. They locked eyes, standing a mere ten steps apart, with Bastian now holding a wooden sword resting upon his shoulder.

"Ready yourself. I'll count to three. If you're still standing, it'll be my turn to attack," Bastian issued the command in a tone tinged with boredom.

Not falling for the bait, Desmond resisted the urge to unleash a scorching inferno upon his father. Instead, he surveyed his surroundings, meticulously analyzing the environmental advantages. I could simply freeze him in his tracks, he mused, an evil chuckle resonating within his mind.

However, such an act would label him as nothing short of a lunatic. "Hold on a moment," Desmond spoke calmly, releasing a protracted sigh.

Custom Spell: Freeze.

Custom Spell: Spike.

Observing from a distance, Leona sensed a chill emanating from her son's direction. Yet, upon closer inspection, she failed to identify any visible signs of incanted ice spells. "Perhaps it's just my imagination," she speculated.

Meanwhile, Bastian's anticipation grew as he observed Desmond. Initially, he assumed that his son had relinquished the usual pressure he exuded, but now he realized it had genuinely vanished.

He must be practicing concealing his aura, Bastian surmised. His stance shifted, still gripping the wooden sword with one hand, while his feet adopted a wide stance.

Noticing his father's growing seriousness, Desmond extended his hand forward and muttered, "Spike!"

Upon hearing the incantation, Bastian instinctively cast his gaze downward, seeking the imminent threat. But as he raised his head, instead of stone spikes erupting from the ground to assail him, an enormous fireball hurtled toward his position.

"Shit, that kid!" Bastian cursed inwardly.

Since the wooden sword he held was incapable of cleaving through the fiery projectile, and unwilling to squander excessive energy, he opted to dodge sideways.

*Slide.*

Unbeknownst to him, his foot landed upon an icy surface, causing him to lose his footing. Bastian glanced backward, only to discover an array of numerous small spikes lying in wait.

"Fuck, this kid wants to kill me!" Bastian snapped in irritation, swiftly incanting a spell while muttering, "Basic Spell: Barrier!"

A transparent barrier materialized at Bastian's back, ensuring a safe landing.

Yet, a sudden sensation in front of him alerted him to another imminent threat. Gripping his sword with both hands, he swung it forward...

*Crack.*

Desmond materialized right before his father, launching an assault with a wooden sword crafted from the essence of nature.

"You've lost, father!" Without waiting for his father's reaction, Desmond activated yet another spell, causing a hand to emerge from the ground, ensnaring Bastian's body.

"No, son, it is you who has lost," came his father's voice, seemingly originating from right beside him.

"Ugh..." A sudden surge of pain shot through Desmond's shoulder, propelling him far from his previous position. Bewilderment enveloped him. How did his father manage to escape the clutches of his spell? Even with a body honed to the level of a first-class swordsman, the blow from his father shouldn't have caused such intense agony.

Desmond shifted his gaze, glancing sideways, only to realize that the figure he had mistaken for his father was a mere figment of his imagination. In reality, his father stood near his original position.

"You still need another ten years to best me, hehe," Bastian smirked before returning to where his wife observed the practice session.

Upon reaching her side, Bastian encountered his wife's crestfallen expression. "I emerged victorious, my dear," he approached, attempting to embrace her.

*Stamp.*

However, he received a resounding stamp instead, courtesy of his wife. "Humph, why are you boasting over such a child?" Leona snorted.

She continued, her voice tinged with disapproval. "Moreover, you were far too harsh with our child." Leona snapped, her glare fixed firmly on her husband.

"Ouch, that stings, honey. Don't blame me; our son nearly dealt me a fatal blow!" Bastian tried to defend himself, met only with a chilling glare from his wife.

"Do you truly believe that? Fool!" Leona snapped, averting her gaze. She then instructed the maid to check on their son's well-being.

Meanwhile, as Desmond observed the scene unfold, a sense of satisfaction washed over him, mirrored by his gaze fixed upon the azure sky. "Haha, in the end, experience still triumphs over intellect. Despite having studied the recordings of my father's battles with assassins countless times..."

"But the actual sensation is entirely different in a genuine fight." Desmond couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. He found solace in the prospect of analyzing fresh footage to further his studies, yet his pride vehemently refused to accept this defeat.