The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

In the eastern part of the city, near the border that separated the outer city from the inner city, loomed an imposing and grand mansion. Its towering structure commanded the vast expanse of land that surrounded it. The contrast between this mansion and Desmond's humble abode was stark. While Desmond's residence was merely one building among many, this mansion stood alone, its vastness unparalleled.

To the left of the mansion sprawled a resplendent flower garden, vibrant blooms dancing in the gentle breeze. On the right side, an open training field stretched out, a place for honing one's skills.

However, despite the presence of the enchanting flower garden, an eerie silence blanketed the mansion's surroundings. Not a single maid or servant could be seen tending to the yard or within the mansion's confines, lending an air of desolation akin to a graveyard.

Under the scorching midday sun, two figures stood on the expansive training ground. The field itself was expansive, adorned with numerous straw figures embedded in the sandy soil, providing enough space for fifty soldiers to train simultaneously. Close to one of the centrally placed straw figures stood a middle-aged man.

His jet-black hair was neatly tied in a single knot, and his hands were folded behind his back. Squinting his eyes, he observed the young boy standing before him, his face solemn, as if lost in deep concentration.

A gentle breeze swept through the training ground, causing the middle-aged man's hair tie to flutter to the side. His expectant gaze brimmed with anticipation, and his trembling hands betrayed his overwhelming excitement. Nearby, two crystal-clear vials of potions stood on the sand, their remnants visible through the partially empty bottles.

*swoosh*

In an instant, the boy opened his eyes, simultaneously shifting one leg backward, assuming a poised stance. His blackish-white hair swayed as he faced the straw figure before him, his eyes locked shut in unwavering focus.

With a surge of strength, the boy's arm, rippling with muscular power, propelled forward, landing a forceful blow directly on the straw figure's face. The impact carried a weighty intensity, generating opposing gusts of wind that pressed against the ground beneath him.

*boom*

Wide-eyed, the boy calmly surveyed the aftermath. The once steadfast straw figure, supported by a sturdy log plunged into the ground, vanished into thin air. Only a few lingering strands of straw floated gently downward from above.

Witnessing this accomplishment, a broad, satisfied smile spread across the middle-aged man's face. He nodded approvingly and spoke, "Good job, son. Soon, you will become accustomed to this power." Casting a brief glance at the ground beneath the boy, the sand that had engulfed his feet vanished, replaced by a cracked, parched earth.

Contrary to the middle-aged man's contented demeanor, the boy displayed a different attitude. An unpleased smile curved his lips, accompanied by a furrowed brow. He retorted, "Not yet."

His gaze dropped, focusing on the hand he had employed to deliver the strike earlier. His expression twitched, and frustration bubbled within him. He exclaimed, "Not yet! He must be stronger than me now."

*crack* *crack*

The reverberating sound of bones shifting echoed throughout the boy's body, causing his skin to take on a reddish hue. The combination of the scorching daylight sun and his heightened internal temperature turned his skin a vibrant shade of red, with a network of veins becoming visible on his neck.

"Muttering under his breath, the boy invoked the power of Ebony Protection. Instantly, additional veins snaked across his legs and arms, while thin layers of iron materialized, coating his knuckles.

*swoosh*

This time, his movements were swifter than before as he unleashed a barrage of strikes upon each straw man target in the field. However, his speed had not yet reached the point where only the sound of his movements could be heard. Evidence of his assault littered the training ground—trampled soil and scattered sand, lending an untidy appearance to the previously pristine lawn.

The middle-aged man, standing nearby, remained unmoved, neither retreating nor flinching. Upon closer inspection, a peculiar phenomenon unfolded. The sand and aftermath of the boy's actions seemed to pass through the middle-aged man's body, as if he were made of water rather than solid matter.

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" With each punch the boy landed on his targets, a gust of wind accompanied the strike, propelling several straw men in the opposite direction. Some of the supporting pillars' logs splintered, while others were wrenched entirely from the ground.

Observing the chaotic state of the training field, the middle-aged man shook his head, a tinge of disappointment on his face. "Tsk, tsk, he is still young and overly eager."

Yet, a moment later, his eyes glimmered as he perceived the boy's movements in slow motion. A faint smile curved his lips, revealing his handsome features. "But he possesses boundless potential."

Meanwhile, in the distant northern reaches, where Desmond's idyllic house stood amidst vast meadows, two women conversed joyfully while marveling at the picturesque scenery before them.

These women exuded remarkable beauty, particularly the black-haired woman. Her glossy, flowing tresses cascaded freely, reaching down to her waist. She possessed thin, ruby-red lips that curved into a smile as she delicately sipped her tea. Her captivating, shimmering purple eyes fixated on the breathtaking panorama.

"Can't you exert some influence over your son?" The woman seated across from her inquired. She, too, possessed an exquisite countenance, with yellowish-black eyes that brimmed with enigmatic allure. Her pointed nose and slightly oval face further accentuated her charm. However, it was her fiery red hair that radiated an aura of freshness and fervent desire, hinting at her maturity.

"No, I cannot meddle in his life unless it becomes a matter of utmost importance, and I respect that," the black-haired woman replied resolutely, her smile tinged with a hint of guilt. "I'm sorry, Clez."

Clez was a nickname known only to her closest friends. Clez responded, "It's alright, Leo. It's just a difficult and unexpected answer from you." Disappointment lingered in her eyes as she bit her lower lip, turning her gaze toward the captivating scenery. Softly, she muttered, "My only hope lies with you, my daughter..."

Leo's heart weighed heavy upon witnessing her friend's despondent expression. She couldn't bear the thought of being unable to assist Clez, even in the smallest of matters. Her own countenance became a tapestry of conflicting emotions, torn between her loyalty to her friend and her unwavering dedication to her son. After a brief struggle, Leo finally mustered the resolve to offer a glimmer of hope.

"I will make an attempt to persuade my son, even if it's just a 'bit'," she conceded, her voice laced with determination.

At the sound of these words, Clez's gloom quickly dissipated, replaced by a renewed sense of optimism. She clasped Leo's hands tightly, gratitude illuminating her eyes. "Really?! Thank you! I knew I could always rely on you." Clez understood that even though Leo had only promised a small effort, her friend would give her utmost to fulfill her request.

"You...you tricked me," Leo playfully retorted, a mix of surprise and amusement crossing her features. She was momentarily left speechless before joining Clez in a heartfelt chuckle.

"Of course," Clez responded unabashedly, accompanied by a mischievous wink. Their laughter intertwined, creating a harmonious melody that resonated throughout the surroundings. The sight of these two beautiful women sharing a genuine moment of joy was enchanting, leaving the watching maids with warm smiles upon their faces.

In that instance, they comprehended the allure that compelled some men to desire multiple wives, for the radiance emitted by Leo and Clez's camaraderie was captivating.