The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

"What in the bloody hell are the royal troops doing here?!" one of the lower-class mercenaries exclaimed, his voice laced with surprise. The sharpness of his shout pierced the air, causing everyone present to squint and snap their attention towards the commotion.

"Fuck! He's fucking right! What the hell is going on?" other members of the mercenary group chimed in, their voices filled with discontent and confusion.

Meanwhile, Clementine's heart skipped a beat as she heard the exclamation. A sudden freeze gripped her expression, and her movements came to an abrupt halt, her hand still clasped tightly around Desmond's. Unspoken thoughts raced through her mind, questioning the improbable presence of the royal army in this place.

Without realizing it, Clementine slowly released Desmond's hand and turned her head, her gaze fixating on the approaching royal soldiers. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of a familiar face among them.

"That's Father!" Diana's voice pierced through the tension as she caught sight of the familiar figure. Her words echoed with a mix of surprise and relief, cutting through the murmurs and drawing the attention of those around her.

Diana's exclamation jolted the mercenaries, causing them to briefly divert their gaze towards her before their eyes snapped back to the sight of the royal troops. A sense of disbelief permeated the air, leaving the mercenaries puzzled and exchanging awkward glances with one another.

The cavalry halted just in front of them, their presence imposing, and the royal coat of arms adorning their pilgrimage attire unmistakable. The horses kicked up dust as they scattered, effectively encircling everyone present within Desmond's house.

The audacity of such a display left the entire Desmond family incensed, but it was Desmond and Leona who felt the brunt of the offense. Desmond, feeling a surge of indignation, tightened his grip around his staff, preparing to unleash his magical abilities, his eyes darting to his loyal maids for a moment.

Leona's gaze hardened as she observed the scene, her previously calm expression now clouded with gloom. She stepped forward, positioning herself between her husband and son, and straightened her posture, her piercing gaze fixed coldly upon the approaching royal army.

Unconsciously, a wave of Leona's frigid aura emanated from her, sending shivers down the spines of all those present. The sudden chill in the air gripped their attention, causing their eyes to involuntarily shift towards her commanding presence.

Witnessing his wife's transformation, Bastian cast a fleeting glance at his son, only to find a mirror image of Leona's steely expression etched upon his face. Bastian let out a resigned sigh, realizing the gravity of the situation, and positioned himself beside his wife, his shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of the impending trouble.

As the royal troops finished arranging themselves into formation, they lowered their weapons and saluted, their actions brimming with deference.

"Guardian Vesta has arrived!" the entire contingent of royal soldiers bellowed in unison, further infuriating the mercenaries who found themselves in the closest proximity to the commotion.

Just as the royal troops shouted, the formation at the periphery swiftly opened, revealing a figure adorned in elegant and charismatic armor atop a majestic horse. The man exuded an air of grace amidst his warrior attire.

"Father!" a heartfelt cry erupted from Desmond's house, cutting through the tension like a clarion call.

The Guardian froze momentarily, his eyes widening with surprise. Slowly, he removed his helmet, revealing a face that carried a mix of emotions, as his daughter sprinted towards him, her presence a beacon of joy amidst the turmoil.

Diana's heartfelt shouts brought Leona and Bastian to a sudden halt, their attention snapping towards their daughter. Leona's piercing gaze shifted to Clementine, who had lowered her head and concealed her flushed face behind a fan.

"Ah, my princess," Vesta exclaimed, swiftly dismounting his horse to catch Diana as she flung herself into his arms. "Oh my, you've grown so much, my princess. You're quite heavy!"

The sight left the royal troops momentarily speechless. The young girl they once knew had transformed into a strikingly beautiful woman. Envy flickered in the eyes of some soldiers, for having a daughter who loved you unconditionally was a true blessing. To witness that love persist even as she grew into adulthood was a remarkable thing indeed.

Diana playfully released her embrace, sticking out her tongue and holding her hips. "Father, you're making me sore!"

This display of affection between father and daughter caused the onlookers to cast their gaze towards Clementine, the wife of the Guardian.

"Dear, what are you doing here?" Clementine approached her husband, her face still flushed as she continued to shield it with her fan.

Clementine added, her voice slightly muffled behind the fan, "I told you, I was merely accompanying Diana. She even had a hired bodyguard."

Vesta, who had been smiling moments ago, furrowed his brows and turned his attention towards his wife, confusion evident in his expression. "What do you mean? I'm here on the orders of the former Grandmaster Weston."

His gaze then shifted to Leona and Bastian as they approached him. Initially, he had intended to greet them warmly with a smile, but the somber expression on Leona's face and the palpable cold aura emanating from her made him reconsider.

"Enough! Dismount your horses and disband this formation!" Vesta's voice boomed, his tone commanding as he immediately issued the order to his troops.

"Yes, Guardian!" The royal soldiers, who had been standing like statues, awaiting Vesta's command, sprung into action. The ground trembled as their movements synchronized flawlessly. Within minutes, the formation was shattered, and the troops now lined up in a row behind Vesta.

Vesta turned back, facing Leona with a remorseful expression. "Please accept my apologies for the rudeness displayed by my troops earlier, Witch Master Leona." He offered a wry smile and scratched his head, fully aware of the gravity of the situation.

The royal soldiers were astounded to witness their Guardian apologize and act with such awkwardness. However, the true shock came when they learned that this was the residence of the renowned Witch Master Leona.

It was only natural for Leona, the esteemed Witch Master, to feel anger towards the disrespectful behavior of the royal troops within her own domain. The soldiers began to feel a deep sense of shame wash over them, fully aware of their missteps.

Leona remained silent, her gaze fixed on Vesta before a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "That will suffice, Guardian Vesta," she said, her voice carrying a subtle warmth. Alongside Bastian, she inclined her head slightly. "Greetings, Guardian."

After offering their greetings, Leona's eyes shifted towards her friend, Clementine. Sensing the need to explain, Clementine hurriedly spoke up. "Friend, I didn't mean to hide—"

Leona swiftly cut her off, her smile lacking its usual warmth. "I understand. I simply forgot to inquire about the details, didn't I?" Her words carried a touch of iciness.

Realizing that her friend was currently harboring anger, Clementine felt a pang of guilt. She had only just reconciled with Leona's son, and now she found herself inadvertently causing trouble. She pondered her actions inwardly, feeling remorseful.

As Leona and Clementine's conversation came to an end, Vesta approached them. "I have arrived with my troops to escort your son on his journey to the academy," he stated, pausing briefly in an attempt to gauge their surprised reactions. However, Leona and Bastian simply regarded him calmly, their expressions unreadable.

Vesta cleared his throat. "As promised by the former Grandmaster Weston, your son should have an escort of guards, typically obtained from the guild."

"Coincidentally, the king also ordered me to oversee this route, so I accepted the request from the former Grandmaster Weston," Vesta continued, glancing at the mercenaries gathered in the courtyard. "However, it appears that you have personally hired mercenaries as well."

His gaze then shifted to those around him, only to notice his daughter's disheveled appearance, as if she had been in a scuffle. Concern immediately welled up within him, and he took hold of Diana's hands. "What happened, my princess?" he asked, his worry evident.

He vividly recalled his daughter leaving in a graceful and charming dress, but her current appearance was a far cry from that. Turning to his wife, he saw her sigh. "She entered Desmond's room and was accidentally hit by his spell attack while he was experimenting with a new spell."

Vesta's suspicions were piqued upon hearing this. "Desmond?" He followed his wife's gesture, his gaze landing on the boy with long hair and magenta eyes. "Is that you?"

Sensing the weight of the Guardian's gaze, Desmond immediately felt a surge of pressure akin to facing the king himself at a royal gathering. "Yes, please don't solely blame me," he stammered, feeling the weight of responsibility. "As she mentioned, Diana—"

However, before Desmond could finish his explanation, Vesta swiftly cut him off with a stern command. "That's enough talk. A man proves himself with his fists." He stepped forward towards Desmond, only to be blocked by the imposing figure of Leona's husband.

"I apologize, Guardian, but he has just finished training with my wife and me. He's exhausted at the moment," Bastian responded, offering a smile that masked the tension evident in his clenched fists.

Even though he often portrayed himself as indifferent to family matters, deep down, he couldn't help but feel protective of his son. "After all, he is still my son!" Bastian snapped inwardly. The Guardian's refusal to accept Desmond's explanation and his immediate resort to violence stoked his anger.

"Hooh?" Vesta looked down at Bastian, then glanced at Desmond and observed his seemingly unharmed state. "Are you truly confident in your judgment?" Vesta's mocking tone caused Bastian to grit his teeth.

"Absolutely!" Bastian answered in a resolute tone, meeting the Guardian's gaze head-on.

"Good. I admire your spirit. How about joining my special troops?" Vesta's satisfaction shone through as he laughed, making the offer sound almost trivial.

The royal troops accompanying Vesta were left dumbfounded by his proposition. They scrutinized Bastian once again, searching for any exceptional qualities but found none. They longed to argue against the Guardian's decision, but they knew it would be against orders. Consequently, they could only cast envious glances towards Bastian.

"No, and thank you for the offer, Guardian," Bastian declined without hesitation, a firm resolve in his voice. "I have already expressed my desire to take a break from any political or kingdom-related activities." Leona, who had been observing from a distance, smiled with satisfaction at Bastian's response.