The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

At noon, the sun shone brilliantly, casting its radiant rays upon the quaint village road. The vibrant hues of the sky painted a picturesque scene, as one horse-drawn carriage basked in the warm sunlight, creating an enchanting display.

After completing their task, the royal soldiers and their captain made their way back to their designated post. However, their steps halted abruptly when they caught sight of their esteemed Guardian seated beneath a luxuriant tree. With a serene countenance, he leaned against the tree trunk, his eyes closed, immersing himself in the exquisite beauty of nature.

Witnessing this tranquil spectacle, the two soldiers respectfully distanced themselves, while the captain approached his revered Guardian. "Sir, we have successfully relocated the goods. What are your further commands?" The captain humbly inquired, lowering his head and bending one knee to touch the ground, a mark of deference.

* Swoosh! * The leaves gracefully descended from the tree, dancing in the gentle breeze that wafted from right to left. The captain felt a wave of tranquility wash over him, as the serene atmosphere and the cool touch of the breeze eased the tension in his face.

"There is nothing more for now. Let us rest, and we shall depart from this village later in the afternoon," Vesta replied, his eyes still closed, relishing the caress of the gentle breeze. With one eye slightly opened, he shifted his gaze towards the carriages.

"Furthermore, assign soldiers to guard and protect my carriage," he continued, his unwavering gaze then settling upon the mercenaries seated on the ground. "We must remain vigilant, for danger may strike without warning."

"Yes, sir," the captain responded with enthusiasm, swiftly relaying the orders to his fellow soldiers.

...

Meanwhile, inside Desmond's horse carriage, he observed the interaction between Vesta and the captain through the glass window and rose to his feet.

"Laura, prepare yourself. Accompany me for a moment," he said, his gaze briefly falling upon the sword leaning against his bed.

Upon hearing his command, Laura swiftly attended to clearing the empty plates and glasses from the table, responding dutifully, "Yes, young master."

While awaiting Laura's readiness, Desmond refocused his attention on the transparent map before him. The blue dot marked his current location in the middle of the road, where a vast expanse of cobblestone-laden terrain lay ahead—the town square.

To his right and left, the landscape was adorned with numerous small icons, representing the jumbled layout of the villagers' residences. Further back, a circular brown wall enveloped the entire area, a testament to the bamboo barrier mentioned earlier.

Apart from the solitary blue dot signifying his presence, there were several gray dots scattered behind his carriage, marking the positions of the mercenaries. Additional gray dots peppered the town square and the entrance gate, representing the stationed royal troops.

But in that moment, Desmond's eyes narrowed as a flickering red spot emerged from the depths of the forest, beyond the protective bamboo wall.

"I'm ready, young master!" Laura's sudden voice startled him, bringing him back to his senses. He was momentarily taken aback, but swiftly regained his usual calm and composed demeanor.

Desmond shifted his gaze towards Laura, his eyes scanning her from head to toe as she stood there in her customary white-gray maid attire. "When we are outside, speak only when spoken to or when I give you a command," he instructed her.

"Yes, young master!" Laura replied eagerly, eliciting a nod of satisfaction from Desmond.

"Let's go." He secured his sword at his waist, rolling up his sleeves before firmly pulling open the carriage door.

* Click. * The sound of wood scraping against wood was not particularly loud, but it was enough to catch everyone's attention. Even Sam, the village chief, turned his gaze in their direction.

* Inhale. * As Desmond stepped out of the horse carriage, he took a deep breath, relishing the invigorating scent of the village air. "I feel rejuvenated," he murmured to himself, his eyes scanning the crowd that had turned their attention towards him. "Hmm..."

With determined steps, Desmond walked forward, his feet meeting the smooth surface of the clean cobblestones. Laura followed closely behind him as they made their way towards where Vesta sat under the tree.

"Greetings, Sir Guardian," Desmond greeted, a faint smile gracing his face as he inclined his head slightly. Laura, too, offered a smile and a bow.

"Oh?" Unlike before, Vesta opened his eyes and straightened his posture. Recognizing Master Witch Leona's son, he greeted Desmond politely, finding it only appropriate to reciprocate the gesture with a faint smile. "Greetings."

Vesta knew that this young boy was intelligent in his daughter's eyes. He couldn't help but be curious when the boy, who had been confined to the horse-drawn carriage for 15 days, suddenly emerged and approached him. In addition, his daughter seemed to hold a fondness for this boy, and even his wife held him in high regard, further piquing his curiosity.

Yet, with each passing day, this boy's actions seemed increasingly suspicious. Vesta could only hope that his instincts were mistaken, desiring nothing more than his daughter's happiness.

"I would like to request permission to venture into the forest outside," Desmond stated frankly. Truth be told, he would not have required permission had he not borrowed Vesta's horse carriage.

"He is not my father, nor are they my parents," Desmond thought to himself, acknowledging the possibility that Vesta could eventually become his father-in-law, albeit merely a possibility at this point.

Desmond understood that his request was a reasonable one for a child of his age, filled with curiosity about the world around him.

"No problem, my subordinates have thoroughly inspected every corner of the forest, and it is deemed safe for you to explore," Vesta responded, his eyes narrowing slightly. Despite his lingering sense of unease, he couldn't quite pinpoint the source of his apprehension.

Furthermore, Vesta recognized that his role as a guardian was to ensure Desmond's safe passage to the city of Helmfirth, but it didn't mean that Desmond had to abide by his every command or be restricted in his activities.

"However, do take at least one guard with you," Vesta added, a natural precautionary measure given Desmond's intention to venture out accompanied solely by a female servant. In Vesta's eyes, regardless of the strength of the rumors surrounding Desmond, he was still a ten-year-old child. It would reflect poorly on Vesta's reputation and his own conscience if any harm befell the young boy.

"Thank you for your concern. Please excuse me then," Desmond replied with a gracious smile, turning his attention towards the mercenaries accompanying them.