The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

And in the end, the mother and son duo made the unconventional choice of joining forces with the mercenaries, much to the chagrin of the royal soldiers. The captain of the soldiers, in particular, clenched his teeth in annoyance, his frustration palpable.

Adding insult to injury, the young boy awoke with an intense loathing for Desmond. Not only did he persistently taunt and shout Desmond's name, but he even resorted to hurling mud at him. Such behavior seemed overly childish when compared to Desmond, who was of the same age.

Disregarding the boy's scolding, the horse-drawn carriage pressed on. The journey continued without encountering any further obstacles, aside from the somber task of burying fallen comrades from the previous battle, which slowed their progress.

As time passed and the sun dipped below the horizon, the carriages eventually came to a halt, seeking respite and waiting for night to pass.

...

Meanwhile, inside Desmond's horse-drawn carriage, he stirred from his slumber, his senses slowly awakening. His gaze swept across the interior, resting upon his sword and book, neatly laid out on the table.

"Laura," Desmond called out, his attention drawn to the glimmer of silver moonlight casting an ethereal glow upon his legs, visible through the window.

The surrounding atmosphere was a mixture of darkness and allure, with a deep, star-studded sky and the piercing trill of crickets resounding through the stillness. Not even a whisper of wind disturbed the carriage's tranquil repose.

Desmond consulted the system map and discovered that they were currently situated on a plain adjacent to a serene lake. He could hear the gentle bubbling of water, as fish frolicked beneath the surface.

"Yes, young master?" Laura responded, her voice breaking the silence. Desmond's gaze refocused, landing upon Laura, draped in a thin cloth or towel that delicately concealed her figure from her chest to her thighs, revealing her graceful shoulders and long legs.

Her vibrant red hair was fashioned into a ponytail, allowing some stray strands to frame her face, lending an air of mystery as her eyes peered coyly from behind the loose tendrils.

Unabashed by her appearance, Laura stood before Desmond, her customary sweet smile gracing her features. While her attractive physique didn't escape his notice, Desmond couldn't help but fold his arms across his chest, narrowing his eyes in a guarded manner. "What are you up to?"

Desmond acknowledged the allure of the scene before him; he couldn't deny the temptations that stirred within him as a man. However, he recognized that the timing was not right, and it would be inappropriate to pursue such desires in the present circumstances.

"Eh? I thought the young master would be interested..." Laura murmured under her breath, her voice filled with disappointment. She had picked up this trick from the senior maids, but it seemed that it held no sway over her young master. "My apologies, young master. I will change immediately."

Observing Laura's crestfallen expression, Desmond remained impassive, simply staring at her. He rose from the bed and straightened his attire. "Wait here. I want to get some fresh air."

As Laura nodded in acknowledgment, Desmond opened the door to the horse-drawn carriage.

* swoosh *

A brisk gust of night wind swept across his face and body, carrying a chilly sensation that caused him to tremble ever so slightly.

"Haha."

"Haha."

In addition to the wind, Desmond could also hear hearty laughter emanating from a distance. He noticed two separate camps situated a short distance away. One belonged to the mercenaries, their tents adorned with a simplistic design and lacking any elaborate embellishments.

Meanwhile, the royal troops' tents exhibited a more grandiose flair, with kingdom flags adorning every corner and a luxurious temporary kitchen in their midst.

While the mercenaries and royal troops engaged in merriment, playfully competing with each other, Vesta and her daughter were conspicuously absent. It seemed that they had no inclination to socialize, even in the untamed wilderness where the strength of their forces held sway. Perhaps Vesta was indulging her daughter's whims now?

Desmond turned his gaze to the side and beheld a vast, expansive lake. Its waters were calm, exuding a deep blue hue that concealed the lake's depth and its hidden secrets.

Stepping out of the horse-drawn carriage, Desmond drew the attention of the nearby mercenaries, causing them to pause and cast curious glances in his direction. In contrast, the royal troops' tents regarded him with disapproval. Some even spat on the ground, deliberately averting their gaze before retreating back into their tents.

Unperturbed by the reactions around him, Desmond approached the lake and stood at its edge, gazing upon his own reflection. He saw a young man with a handsome face, donning a white t-shirt adorned with a wave design on the sleeve, his magenta eyes shimmering with an enigmatic light.

"Too slow," he uttered calmly, the mysterious radiance in his magenta eyes captivating.

As Desmond studied the map, he was taken aback to discover that they were not too far from the Capital City. Yet, the audacity of the bandits acting so brazenly left him dumbfounded. With their current speed, it was only natural for them to reach Helmfirth City within one to three months, not to mention the obstacles they had already encountered and those that awaited them in the future.

Glancing back at Vesta's horse-drawn carriage, a heavy sigh escaped Desmond's lips. "I have a bad feeling about this," he muttered under his breath. Squatting down by the lake's edge, he cupped his hands and scooped up the cool water.

* splash *

As Desmond raised his hands, a small fish inadvertently joined the water in his palms, now swimming atop his hand as the water slowly trickled through his fingers. The sight of this tiny fish brought to mind memories of his own birth into this world. "Life is fragile," he contemplated, "even the long-lived elves never anticipated becoming slaves to humans."

With gentle care, Desmond released the fish back into the lake. He then proceeded to unbutton his shirt, a gesture that conveyed a sense of surrender. "In the end, only the beauty of nature remains," he mused.

Taking a step forward, he gradually immersed his lower body in the cold lake water. The instant the icy sensation touched his smooth skin, a shiver ran through his body. Desmond's actions drew the attention of those around him. People watched with curiosity, some even chuckling at the sight of Desmond bathing in the lake.

As the water gradually swallowed his body, reaching up to his chest, Desmond cautiously stretched himself out.

* fizz *

With the right movements and timing, he managed to float on the water's surface, his face turned towards the dark sky adorned with twinkling stars. His long, dark brown hair swayed and danced within the water as if alive, while his wet trousers clung to his muscular legs.

This astonishing sight left the mercenaries and soldiers gaping, their eyes wide with disbelief. They had never witnessed such a spectacle before. The question echoed in their minds: Did he just transcend mortal life?

Simultaneously, thoughts raced through their heads as they witnessed Desmond's magenta eyes fixated upon the sky, devoid of any flicker, his body floating upon the water's surface, motionless.