The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

Back in the present, the sleepy village of Grimm awoke to the gentle touch of the morning sun, casting its warm, golden rays upon the world. The air was filled with the cheerful symphony of birdsong, their melodic tunes echoing through the village streets.

The villagers commenced their daily routines, engaging in lively conversations that intertwined with the delicate fragrance of wildflowers, evoking a slight blush upon their cheeks. Some busied themselves with cooking, while others tended to their gardens, each task executed with grace and precision.

Amidst this picturesque scene, an air of indifference seemed to envelop the villagers, as if deliberately turning a blind eye to the presence of a group of royal troops. The soldiers stood sentinel, their rigid postures denoting the seriousness and vigilance with which they guarded the area surrounding a horse-drawn carriage stationed near the village square.

Curiosity flickered in the eyes of a few villagers, even catching the attention of Veronica, whose usually gloomy expression betrayed a hint of intrigue. However, the tension etched upon the soldiers' faces dissuaded any probing questions from the villagers and mercenaries alike.

Unbeknownst to the villagers, their lives had been saved by these very soldiers, and the arrival of reinforcements brought a sense of relief. In the villagers' eyes, the soldiers remained cautious, ever watchful for a sudden assault, their actions resembling a protective shield against unforeseen threats. A fleeting glance was all the villagers offered before returning to their tasks.

In stark contrast, the mercenaries observed the situation with wariness, acutely aware that this was their mission. Ray, in particular, found himself torn between conflicting emotions.

Inside the heavily guarded carriage, where Vesta's soldiers maintained a staunch watch, the atmosphere seemed to hush into an eerie stillness. A young boy and a middle-aged man sat face-to-face on chairs, locked in an intense stare-down. Vesta's voice cut through the silence, firm and unwavering, leaving no room for Laura to deceive or negotiate.

His gaze pierced through Laura, scrutinizing her every expression.

Responding to Vesta's demand, Laura swallowed the mounting pressure and summoned her resolve. "As you wish, Sir," she replied, her voice steady and composed. She proceeded to recount the incident in the forest, unraveling the intricate details from her own perspective.

As Laura's narrative unfolded, Vesta's brow furrowed in growing concern. With each passing word, Laura's demeanor and choice of words mirrored Desmond's. It wasn't just the content of her story, but even the expressions she wore that echoed his. A sense of unease crept over Vesta as he strained his ears to absorb Laura's account.

Meanwhile, standing a short distance behind Vesta, Diana kept her eyes fixed on Desmond. Her vibrant orange orbs shimmered like flickering flames, their intensity betraying her fear of missing even the slightest change in his countenance. Yet, as she stared at him intently, her initial excitement gradually transformed into disappointment.

Could it be true? Doubt clouded Diana's thoughts as she observed Desmond. In her eyes, he now appeared no different from the ordinary children she would encounter on the bustling streets. The once commanding aura that emanated from him seemed weakened, lacking the essence of a natural leader. Diana cast her judgmental gaze upon Desmond, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

Unbeknownst to her, Desmond caught Diana's tense scrutiny and turned his head to meet her gaze once more. A faint smile graced his lips, a mere glimmer of acknowledgement, before he redirected his attention to her father.

In an instant, Diana found herself frozen in place, her gaze fixed upon Desmond as her heart began to race uncontrollably. *Heartbeat* She couldn't comprehend the strange sensation coursing through her. "What is this?" Diana wondered, her mind spinning in confusion. The memory of Desmond's smile lingered, intensifying the rapid thumping in her chest.

It was as if she wanted to avert her gaze and bury herself in a deep hole to escape this overwhelming feeling.

Diana was utterly perplexed, her thoughts entangled in a web of uncertainty. Was it mere fondness or something deeper? Was it love or merely a fascination with Desmond's power? Lost in contemplation, her eyes remained fixed on Desmond, her mind blank and detached.

Suddenly, as if guided by an invisible force, Diana's body moved involuntarily. Her head turned slightly to the side, as though she was attempting to divert her attention, her cheeks flushed with a warm sensation. Bewildered by her own actions, Diana couldn't comprehend the source of her inner turmoil.

Meanwhile, Desmond remained oblivious to Diana's puzzling behavior, as his focus remained fixed on Laura's nearing conclusion of the story. Vesta, who had appeared nonchalant until then, suddenly turned serious, his gaze shifting between Laura and Desmond in silence before finally breaking the stillness.

"Thank you for your cooperation. With this, I can properly process and report the incident to the guild and the kingdom," Vesta spoke, his tone surprisingly sincere. Desmond couldn't help but feel a twinge of surprise at Vesta's sudden change in demeanor. It contradicted his expectations.

Noticing Desmond's bewildered expression, Vesta chose to disregard it. "Although the guild is not part of the kingdom's forces or an organization that can be controlled, it would be a different matter if the deceased individuals were citizens of the North Kingdom."

Vesta's words hung in the air, interrupted by his abrupt action. He straightened in his seat, bowing his head with both hands pressed firmly against the table. "I apologize for the negligence of my soldiers, which nearly cost you your life."

Desmond stared at Vesta in disbelief. It was a stark contrast to the suspicion Vesta had shown earlier. For a moment, Desmond's mind went blank as he struggled to comprehend the situation. From his perspective, based on Vesta's prior doubts, he had expected to be imprisoned or monitored even more closely by the soldiers. Yet, upon reflection, Desmond arrived at a realization.

"Ah, in the end, I'm still seen as a weak child in their eyes," Desmond muttered inwardly.

Desmond opened his mouth, intending to reply, but found himself at a loss for words. Should he dismiss it as inconsequential? That would come across as arrogance. Should he express his acceptance of the situation? It would imply that he held no value in their eyes.

Ultimately, Desmond found himself frowning, his expression clouded with conflict. This unexpected turn of events had caught him off guard, and he struggled to find an appropriate response. The ensuing silence grew increasingly awkward, the sight of a Guardian still bowing before a seemingly indifferent child eliciting amusement from the onlookers, including Laura and Diana.

Simultaneously, Desmond's instincts kicked in, prompting him to perform a status check.

Status.

[Scanning Host Body…]

[Scan Complete!]

[-Status-

Name: Desmond

Gender: Male

Age: 10 years

Race: Human (100%)

Class: 1st Swordsman / 0th Dragon Slayer

Occupation: None

Unique Energy: 6.91 / 43.82

Strength: 28.77 (13.77)

Agility: 21.02 (6.02)

Stamina: 8.43

Dragon Essence: 0]