The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

And with that, their journey unfolded as a serene voyage, the tranquility enveloping them like a comforting embrace. The rhythmic clip-clop of the horse's hooves resonated softly, accompanied by the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. Even the mother and son pair, resilient in their spirits, found no room for complaint about the horse that carried them.

Amidst the whispers that traversed through the travelers' grapevine, rumors began to swirl about the young boy's shared destination: the illustrious city of Helmfirth, where he intended to enroll in the prestigious academy. He spoke of his family's meticulous preparations, his parents' unwavering support as they accompanied him on this momentous journey, fueled by their concern for his well-being.

Little did they anticipate the tragedy that would soon befall them.

The hired mercenaries, sworn to protect them, met their untimely demise at the merciless hands of a gang of bandits. It was only through the boy's unwavering strength and valiance that he shielded his mother from the sinister grasp of those who sought to defile her.

Overwhelmed by his unyielding courage, the bandits, in a desperate twist, decided to use them as bait, hoping to lure unsuspecting travelers into their treacherous clutches.

As the story unfolded, the mercenaries remained seemingly indifferent, their hardened exterior masking a reality where witnessing comrades fall was an all-too-familiar occurrence.

The stark contrast between their callous demeanor and the valorous regard of the royal troops, who held the sanctity of family in high esteem, sparked unrest that necessitated intervention from the leaders of both mercenary groups and the captain. Their united efforts sought to quell the futile animosity brewing among them.

Unbeknownst to them, the passage of time slipped away like sand through an hourglass, and after a arduous journey of 15 days, they finally arrived at their first destination.

...

Within the confines of Desmond's luxurious horse carriage, where comfort was the utmost priority, he found himself engaged in leisurely pursuits. As the sun began its ascent, casting a golden glow upon the world, Desmond's keen eyes narrowed, captivated by the sight of the aged structures that adorned the village they had reached.

"Ah, we have arrived," he murmured softly, his gaze shifting from the quaint village to the verdant embrace of the surrounding forest. His perceptive nature picked up the presence of crimson markings scattered throughout the woods, clearly visible on the system map. If there were just a few, Desmond might have dismissed them as inconsequential blips on the radar.

However, considering the recent encounter with the marauding bandits, this growing proliferation of red dots on the map gave rise to a sense of concern within him.

Studying the map intently, Desmond's thoughts whispered silently within his mind, akin to an internal dialogue with the enigmatic system.

The system responded by displaying the comprehensive data of the young boy, Gregory.

[Accessing database....]

[Data retrieved!]

[

-Status-

Name: Gregory

Gender: Male

Age: 10 years

Race: Human

Class: -

Occupation: None

Unique Energy: 3.65

Strength: 15.00

Agility: 15.00

Stamina: 3.05

]

A fleeting moment of surprise graced Desmond's face as he perused the exceptional attributes of the boy, contemplating the rarity of such prowess at such a tender age.

Desmond's astuteness did not elude him; as his foot connected with the boy's face, he sensed a complex gaze emanating from the captain. The captain's reaction caught Desmond off guard, hinting at a deeper understanding that lurked beneath the surface. This initial shock reverberated within him as he commanded the system to scan the boy's status, only to be met with astonishment.

Not only did the boy possess a strength surpassing others his age, but he also possessed the potential to become a low-ranking royal soldier. Furthermore, their conversation revealed his imminent enrollment in the academy—an intriguing prospect indeed.

A mischievous smirk crept upon Desmond's lips as he rested his chin upon his palm. His gaze momentarily shifted from the system screen, a thrill coursing through his veins. His attention returned to the window, fixated on the unfolding scenery outside.

The horse-drawn carriage advanced at a leisurely pace, granting Desmond ample opportunity to observe the village's condition. The sight became increasingly clear as they drew closer—a sturdy bamboo fence, towering like a sentinel, enveloped the village, creating an impression akin to a birdcage. Sharpened bamboo stakes protruded from the front of the bamboo wall, serving as a menacing deterrent.

Noticing their arrival, two individuals hastened to pull open the bamboo gate, their bodies strained with effort. The carriage eventually reached the gate, where three figures emerged from the distance. A middle-aged man, adorned in a cowhide tunic and pristine white trousers, led the group. Accompanying him were two spear-wielding villagers, poised like guardians ready to receive their guests.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to our humble village of Genward," the man introduced himself as Sam, the village head. He cast an inquisitive glance towards the royal troops still mounted on their horses. "Is there anything we can assist you with during your visit to our quaint village?"

The two spear-wielding villagers remained on high alert, diligently guarding the flanks of the horse-drawn carriage. Desmond calmly observed the group, his demeanor betraying a keen understanding of their purpose for being here.

In response, the captain dismounted from his horse and reciprocated the greeting. "Hello, we have arrived with the intention of assessing the village's condition." The captain's gaze swept across the village's surroundings before a warm smile adorned his face. "It appears that everything is in order here."

Sam shook his head upon hearing the soldier's words. "It's not as simple as it seems, sir. We were fortunate enough to survive an encounter with a peculiar beast."

Once again, Sam's eyes wandered towards the bamboo wall. A discerning observer might notice the irregularities in its structure—sections that appeared asymmetrical and revealed signs of past hollowness, now meticulously patched up.

Upon hearing Sam's question, a flicker of doubt clouded his features. "May I inquire which army you represent?" Sam's query stemmed from an understanding that while the kingdom did not categorize its army into distinct sections, each division was assigned to different generals. The soldiers' appearance and manner of communication often reflected the characteristics of their leader.

Thus, when Sam observed the troops before him—polite, amiable, yet adorned with slightly worn armor—it left him perplexed.

"We belong to the Guardian Special Army," the captain responded, a hint of pride lacing his voice. However, his expression swiftly transformed as a somber memory invaded his thoughts, momentarily dampening his demeanor.

Sam stood there, dumbfounded by the revelation. His eyes widened in astonishment, glancing back at the remaining soldiers who stood with chests puffed out, exuding an air of confidence. The two villagers who had previously assumed the role of guards mirrored Sam's surprise, their once-alert gazes transforming into unabashed awe.