The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

*The sound of howling wolves reverberated through the village, piercing the air with their haunting cries. Ray and Vaurz locked eyes, their expressions turning rigid and tense, their senses heightened by the eerie symphony.*

*As the sun bathed the village in its afternoon glow, casting long shadows, the villagers managed to hold onto a sense of composure, their instincts sharpened while remaining on guard.*

"Prepare to fight," Ray commanded, his gaze piercing through the village's bamboo walls, as if he could see beyond their confines.

"Yes, leader," the members of the Corps of Teleknight replied in unison, the sound of unsheathing swords filling the air. Vaurz, plagued by an unsettling uneasiness that had plagued him earlier, finally traced its origin. His pupils contracted, and he tightened his grip around his swords.

"This is bad," he muttered, his eyes scanning the mercenaries and their precarious situation.

....

"Big sis!" Raina's voice erupted with worry, her hand instinctively reaching out, attempting to grasp Veronica's collar as she darted toward the source of the wolves' howls. The Steel Legion members flinched, their training in life-and-death battles notwithstanding. Without their leader, their pillar of strength, they were as vulnerable as any other person, their unease palpable.

Veronica's significance in their hearts was unmistakable. Though fear coursed through their veins, their professionalism as mercenaries compelled them forward.

"What should we do now?" one of the female members asked Raina, her eyes brimming with confidence and courage, yet unable to conceal her trembling hands.

Raina turned, her gaze darting between her leader, who stood at a distance with their comrades. "Prepare your spells, ladies," she declared, her expression a mix of determination and complexity, as she drew her sword.

Unlike the Corps of Teleknights, brimming with swordsmen, the Mercenary Steel Legion had only Raina and Veronica as their primary attackers, accompanied by the remaining mid-class witches.

....

Meanwhile, on a weathered wooden bench near the village square, the captain stood before Vesta, his eyes filled with unwavering determination to protect the villagers, seeking guidance from his Guardian.

Even in the face of such adversity, Vesta remained composed, his words flowing effortlessly. "Gather all the villagers in the village square and assign a few soldiers to protect them," he instructed, nonchalantly opening one eye.

"The rest of you, head to the front gate and prevent those beasts from entering," he continued, his strength as a peak swordsman making the task seem effortlessly achievable.

Yet, Vesta understood the importance of having subordinates. What purpose would there be in possessing such power if he dealt with all threats alone? As for his daughter, Vesta's faith in the protective enchantments woven into the horse carriage shielded her from his worries.

"Yes, sir," the captain obediently replied, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he hurriedly carried out Vesta's orders, his heart filled with the fear of potential casualties resulting from any negligence on his part.

As the captain departed, Vesta, who had previously exuded a relaxed demeanor, suddenly straightened in his seat. His gaze swept over the mercenaries, who were already making their way to the battlefield. "Good," he muttered, his tone tinged with satisfaction, "at least they haven't lost their sense of humanity."

Stretching his weary body, Vesta rose to his feet and peered ahead. "Though I've said it before, I should at least keep an eye on them." Like Ray, his eyes narrowed towards the forest, as if he possessed the ability to penetrate through the bamboo walls.

"And also, it seems this howl is a bit louder than usual," Vesta added, his voice trailing off. After his stretch, he shifted his weight forward, and with a tap of his toe against the paved ground beneath him...

*Swoosh.*

In an instant, a gust of wind engulfed Vesta, his form becoming hazy, until eventually he vanished, leaving naught but a trail of dust in his wake.

At the village's front gate, the royal soldiers engaged in a fierce battle against a pack of Dire Wolves. The reinforcements, having just arrived, swiftly joined their comrades, their movements fluid and purposeful.

"The situation?" the captain, newly arrived, asked one of the soldiers who had previously held the post of gatekeeper but now rested, replaced by another soldier.

"As you can see, captain," the soldier replied, pointing forward, where around fifty Dire Wolves, accompanied by a scattering of goblins, clashed in a chaotic symphony.

Surprisingly, these goblins were not the ragged and disorganized creatures they had imagined. Instead, they stood in the background, assuming the role of commanders, orchestrating the movements of the Dire Wolves.

The captain's surprise was evident as his gaze narrowed, fixed upon the goblins. "Weird. Have there been any casualties?" He shifted his focus back to the soldier, his throat dry.

Observing the captain's concerned expression, the soldier responded honestly, "For now, captain, there are none." Only he and his two companions guarded the gate, yet they managed to hold their ground, a small miracle in their eyes.

A sigh of relief escaped the captain's lips upon hearing the news. However, his mind couldn't help but dwell on the question of how they had managed to survive.

Sensing the captain's suspicion, the soldier interjected before the captain could voice his thoughts. "Ah, I just remembered, captain. When the wolves appeared, a shadow passed in front of us, pushing the beasts back and providing us with the time to prepare our positions and weapons."

"I see," the captain nodded in response, his expression twitching with intrigue. Despite having three 3rd class swordsmen among them, it didn't mean their burdens had been lightened.

The captain furrowed his brow, tapping his shoulder in a contemplative manner. "Good job," he commended the soldiers, his words laced with a mix of appreciation and concern. Even as they conversed, several Dire Wolves had already met their demise, but the presence of the goblins made the situation a tad more troublesome, the captain couldn't help but think.

"And you three, return to the villager square, gather the villagers, and ensure their safety," the captain commanded, aware that his words might sound harsh, considering the soldiers had just taken a break. However, the well-being of the villagers remained his top priority.

"Yes, captain," the soldiers replied, their compliance putting the captain's mind at ease. "Soldiers, await my signal!" he bellowed as he joined their ranks, instantly capturing the attention of his comrades who were currently locked in battle.

*Grumble, grumble.*

The soldiers swiftly formed a tight circle, positioning their shields outward, creating a formidable barrier. "HA!" they erupted in unified war cries, their voices reverberating through the air. The Dire Wolves, manipulated by the goblins, hesitated and eventually retreated, regrouping as they fixed their fierce gazes upon the humans.

As the soldiers rallied around their captain, another group emerged from within the village. Ray strode forward, his silver hair fluttering in the wind, adorned in resplendent armor and wielding a one-handed sword.

With a calm and composed voice, Ray addressed the situation. The members of the Corps of Teleknights followed suit, their excitement palpable as they observed the formation before them, their eyes fixated on their formidable adversaries.