The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

As Bastian gripped his sword and prepared to cast a spell, a sudden rush of wind burst into the room, carrying a bone-chilling chill that wrapped around the mocking mercenaries. Their jeers halted momentarily as they instinctively clutched their arms, shivering from the cold.

It seemed as though the icy gust had emanated from Bastian himself, prompting a renewed bout of laughter from the mercenaries.

"Hahah, look at him," one of the representatives of the mercenaries sneered, his laughter echoing as he turned to his companion. However, his mirth was abruptly silenced when his friend vanished into thin air.

"Arghhhhhh!" A high-pitched scream pierced the air, leaving the remaining mercenaries stunned, their astonishment replacing their amusement. The maids, hearing the commotion, understood the situation and hastily exited the room without looking back.

"Help me!" The voice pleading for aid rang out again, the desperation within it now clearly audible to everyone present. All eyes turned upwards to witness their friend suspended in mid-air, trapped on the ceiling of the room. Tiny needles, resembling crystalline ice, punctured every corner of the mercenaries' garments, causing an eerie chill to pervade the air.

A collective shudder rippled through the room, and the mercenaries shifted their gaze to Bastian, whose eyes blazed with a lethal intensity. The anger in their hearts swelled, and one of them, unable to contain his rage any longer, bellowed, pointing an accusatory finger at Bastian. Desperate for protection and an explanation, he cast a fleeting glance toward Katrina.

"You bastards dared to disrupt my house," a voice emerged from Bastian's direction, soft yet frigid, sending a chill down the mercenaries' spines. The voice belonged to none other than Master Witch Leona herself, though her presence had previously gone unnoticed.

Startled, the mercenaries who had contemplated seeking Katrina's shelter abruptly turned around, their expressions paling instantly. One among them dropped to his knees, his voice quivering with deference, "Forgive my impudence, Master Witch Leona!"

But before he could fully prostrate himself, a faint chanting sound reached his ears. In an instant, an icy chain materialized, coiling around his neck with a vice-like grip, while additional chains bound his limbs, causing his body to hover in mid-air.

"Mmmm!" Disbelief clouded his eyes as he grappled with the reality of his predicament. The frigid iron chains not only constricted his neck but also ensnared every part of his body, suspending him like a puppet. The other mercenaries, witnessing this chilling display of power, swiftly comprehended the danger and cautiously approached the woman standing behind Bastian.

Vesta, who stood in close proximity to Bastian, let out a weary sigh of disappointment. If only he had taken action earlier, perhaps he could have found it within himself to forgive these mercenaries. But now, their actions had escalated beyond trivial matters.

He flexed his muscles, vanishing from his spot in an instant, leaving behind only a swirling whirlwind that had materialized in his previous location.

"Arghhhh!" The room resounded with screams as the mercenaries, intending to attack Leona, were forcefully repelled and collided with one another. The dining room bore the aftermath of the chaotic clash—shattered fragments of the once-grand window glass adorned with a prominent crack, and several vases of delicate flowers lay in ruins, casualties of the violent encounter.

Leona, who had just arrived and now stood beside her husband, observed the scene with a cold gaze. Her anger had subsided, replaced by a sense of solemnity. She glanced at Bastian, unsure of what to say. In the end, she approached him and enveloped him in a tender embrace from behind.

Feeling the comforting presence of his wife, Bastian gradually regained his composure. They remained silent, finding solace in each other's embrace. Eventually, Bastian resheathed his sword, a symbolic act of relinquishing his rage.

Clementine, positioned near her former husband, surveyed the aftermath of the chaos. Witnessing the destruction, she felt a pang of remorse for Leona, knowing that some of the gifts she had presented to her dear friend had also fallen victim to the havoc.

"Thank you, Guardian Vesta." Bastian turned towards his side and noticed Vesta suddenly appearing, meticulously removing the dust from his hands. The gratitude in Bastian's voice was evident. "This incident, however, has infringed upon the royal rules. Do you wish to handle the matter?"

Bastian found himself taken aback, not by the miscreants themselves, but by Vesta's humble demeanor. Even after ascending to the esteemed rank of Guardian, Vesta remained unassuming and was swift to intervene in resolving the issue at hand. It was through Vesta's direct action that Bastian's respect for him had grown. However, when given the option to personally handle the perpetrators...

Humbled and wise, the Guardian of the North Kingdom—Bastian silently praised Vesta within his heart as he shook his head. "I've had enough of these individuals. If possible, please conduct an investigation into their backgrounds," he directed his gaze towards Katrina, who held responsibility for matters pertaining to her guild members.

As Bastian turned to Katrina, she could only manage a wry smile. "Please forgive me for entrusting the protection of your son to these bastards," she uttered, her head bowed, her lower lip gently bitten. In that moment, she felt a profound sense of shame for her own lapse in judgment.

Katrina couldn't fathom why these individuals would dare provoke a Witch Master, especially considering their brazen actions unfolding in the presence of a Guardian. She pondered over their behavior, wondering if they had fallen under the influence of some spell or enchantment.

Lost in her thoughts, she finally added, "Guardian, please allow me to handle this matter; after all, they are still members of the Guild."

Vesta turned his gaze towards Bastian, who gave a nod of approval. "Alright, since the owner of the house has also granted permission, I shall leave it in the hands of the Guild," Vesta responded. His decisions weren't solely based on Bastian's consent; he genuinely sought to maintain a harmonious relationship with the Guild.

It was widely known that the kingdom and the Guild had long been allies, supporting each other since the reign of King Edward.

Meanwhile, Desmond arrived on the scene, rendered speechless by the bewildering chaos. He beheld several representatives of the lower-class mercenaries writhing on the floor in pain, while renowned factions such as the Steel Legion and the Corps of Teleknights sat nonchalantly, enjoying the tea that had been served.

Desmond's gaze then shifted to his parents, who were engaged in an intimate moment amidst the disarray. Something felt amiss... could this be some sort of illusion?

His attention diverted, Desmond glanced at Katrina and inadvertently met her gaze. "Once again, I apologize for the mess caused by members of my guild, Master Desmond," Katrina spoke, her expression reflecting remorse.

Observing her calmly, Desmond responded, "I expect compensation. We will discuss the matter further later." He approached Katrina, speaking in a hushed tone.

Katrina, taken aback by his request, cast a glance between Desmond and her parents, eventually comprehending his underlying message. Ah, I see. I hope Master Desmond can provide valuable information in the future. This time, instead of replying directly, she sent him a message through magic.

Seeing Desmond's nod and the subsequent clap of his hands three times, the maids stationed outside the room swiftly entered, diligently working to restore order. Diana, with a flushed face, arrived just in time to witness the commotion and mirrored Desmond's expression of surprise.

"What happened, Mother?" Diana approached her parents, who were engrossed in conversation with Desmond's parents.

As Diana arrived, Leona's gaze settled on her, filled with affection. She approached her daughter, gently stroking her hair. "It's not a significant trouble, sweetheart," Leona reassured her, her tone soothing. Clementine chuckled, joining in and offering a brief explanation of the incident.

Vesta and Bastian exchanged a puzzled glance, their expressions mirroring each other. "Hahaha, it seems like I missed something significant. Care to fill me in?" Vesta laughed awkwardly, turning to his wife. Leona's profound affection for their daughter tugged at his heart, leaving him with an uneasy feeling.

On the other hand, Bastian discreetly approached Leona, whispering the same inquiry. Leona mischievously smiled in response and playfully winked at her husband. "That's a secret," she uttered in a hushed voice, placing her fingertips near her lips.

Bastian was taken aback by his wife's adorable demeanor, struggling to suppress his desire to kiss her in front of everyone.

"Father, can you enlighten me?" Desmond approached his father, who seemed lost in thought.

"Oh, I don't know either," Bastian replied simply, regaining his senses. He glanced at Desmond and noticed his calm demeanor in such a situation.

At least Diana had initially panicked before finding solace in Leona's presence, but when Bastian looked at his son... he couldn't decide whether to be proud or regretful for having a child who seemed too mature for his age. In the end, he smiled wryly and averted his gaze.

Outside Desmond's house, Laura had just managed to transform the mud wall into a concealed cellar door, which surprised Annie and Shelty. "Quickly, come inside!" Laura urged as she heard the sound of breaking glass and commotion from within the house. She hastened the process, eager to ensure their safety.

Annie guided Shelty into the underground hiding spot. "Good, the young master has instructed you to stay here temporarily and remain silent," Annie informed Shelty. As Shelty entered the room, Laura let out a sigh of relief.

However, as Shelty took in her surroundings, fear immediately gripped her. The room seemed to stir up distressing memories, causing her to curl up on the ground, seeking comfort and solace.