The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

Meanwhile, in the bustling city of Helmfirth, a peculiar sight unfolded amidst the vast expanse of sky. A school building floated gracefully above the clouds, defying the laws of gravity. Positioned at the heart of the city, where the convergence of four roads formed a crossroad, stood a vibrant floral display.

Nestled alongside one of the roads was a long chair, occupied by a captivating young woman.

Her visage radiated a beauty that rivaled that of Leona, the renowned belle of the North Kingdom. Cascading locks of lustrous white hair, akin to freshly fallen snow, danced in the wind. Her complexion boasted a flawless, porcelain sheen reminiscent of polished jade, gracefully catching the sunlight, elevating her ethereal aura.

Seated gracefully, she engrossed herself in a diminutive book perched upon her lap. Abruptly, her eyes lifted, gazing into the boundless blue expanse of clouds resembling an endless sea. Softly, she murmured, her voice barely audible, "I patiently await, dear brother." A wistful smile, the epitome of warmth and beauty, curved her lips.

...

Meanwhile, in a quaint village nestled in the southern territories of the North Kingdom, Genward, the sun dipped towards the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across the sky. Within a horse-drawn carriage, numerous guards secured every corner, ensuring utmost safety.

Inside the carriage, a middle-aged man with cropped, snowy white hair sat at a desk, his temples massaged tenderly as he perused the parchment before him. A child's voice broke his concentration, causing him to startle briefly before his expression softened, brimming with affection, as he laid eyes upon his lovely daughter with fiery red locks neatly tied up.

In a gentle tone, he responded, "What is it, my dear daughter?"

Observing her father's demeanor, the daughter hesitated, her voice quivering slightly as she summoned her courage. "Father, am I interrupting you?" Though her father's countenance displayed tenderness, she sensed the weight of his responsibilities in his eyes, a silent urging for her to leave if her presence lacked significance.

"Yes," the middle-aged man replied honestly, accompanied by a sigh. He caught his daughter's apologetic gaze and merely nodded in acknowledgment.

Recentering his thoughts, his attention abruptly fixated on the contents of the parchment beneath him. "We must focus on dealing with the Imp, but we cannot disregard the matter concerning that boy either... sigh..." His face etched with numerous lines, a testament to the burdens he carried, and the vigor of youth had begun to fade, leaving behind a pallor akin to a wilted leaf.

Just as his mind grappled with these weighty matters, a knock echoed upon the door.

*Knock* *Knock*

"Sir, I come bearing news of our progress in combating the beasts," a soldier's voice resonated from beyond the threshold, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the gloom that shrouded the middle-aged man's countenance.

"Enter," the middle-aged man responded eagerly. However, as the soldier stepped forward, carrying two eyeballs cupped within his hand, the man's brow furrowed, a mixture of curiosity and concern adorning his face.

Acknowledging his superior's approval with a nod, the soldier gingerly placed the two orbs upon the desk. He took a step back, retrieving yet another eyeball from his pocket, gingerly adding it to the collection already present.

The middle-aged man tapped his foot anxiously against the ground, crossing his arms in anticipation, yearning for an explanation regarding the soldier's peculiar actions. His gaze briefly flickered to his daughter, who recoiled in disgust, unable to bear witness to the macabre scene unfolding before her.

"We have thoroughly examined the comprehensive report regarding the attacking beasts, and as anticipated, it appears these creatures are under some form of control," the soldier explained, his finger pointing towards the two eyeballs on the left side, their reddish pupils contrasting starkly with the others.

Adding further details, he continued, "Moreover, the expert mercenaries have identified traces of spellcasting on the creatures' heads."

The middle-aged man, now standing, peered down at his soldier who respectfully delivered the report. "Is this information reliable?" he inquired, his gaze piercing yet concerned.

"Yes, sir. We have verified the validity of this information with the esteemed Mercenaries of the Steel Legion, renowned for their expertise in magic," the soldier replied, still maintaining a respectful posture.

Upon hearing this confirmation, the middle-aged man stroked his chin contemplatively, memories flooding his mind. He muttered, almost to himself, "Hmm, once again... it seems I will have to increase their reward."

Perceiving his superior's intent, the soldier ventured cautiously, "I beg your pardon, sir?"

The middle-aged man glanced briefly at his daughter, Diana, who couldn't resist stealing furtive glances at the peculiar orbs adorning his desk. "Diana, fetch two bags of gold from the storage chest," he instructed, addressing her by her full name.

Diana responded promptly, her voice laced with thoughtfulness, "Yes, Father," and swiftly retrieved a chest hidden beneath her father's bed.

Vesta and Diana, the father and daughter duo, exchanged glances. Even after a brief conversation with Desmond, Vesta found himself torn, wrestling with the criteria his friend had set for suspicion.

"Here you go, Father," Diana spoke softly, presenting the two pouches of gold, her gaze lingering briefly on the eerie eyeballs.

Observing his daughter's curiosity, Vesta hastened to hand over the pouches to his soldiers. "Deliver these to the mercenaries of the Steel Legion. Inform them that it serves as a reward for their invaluable aid in the investigation and their assistance to the boy, as well as compensation for the loss of their fallen comrade."

He paused for a moment, contemplating the situation further. "Additionally, inform the boy and everyone else that we shall extend our stay in this village for one more day, taking precautions against further attacks. I will select a few of you to remain here temporarily for a week."

The soldier, hearing these instructions, was initially taken aback, his thoughts veering away from his Guardian's words regarding Desmond and the investigation. Instead, his eyes widened in disbelief as he grasped the weight of the pouches in his hands.

These pouches should contain around 200 Gold Coins, he calculated, a glimmer of avarice flickering in his eyes. However, as he regained his senses, a sudden realization struck him. "Yes, sir," he responded promptly, his head bowed.

Lowering his head, a flurry of conflicting thoughts raced through the soldier's mind. Rich folk truly possess a generosity when it comes to money, he mused, a hint of a wicked smile tugging at his lips. However, as he glanced surreptitiously at his Guardian, determination ignited within him.

No, I cannot succumb to such temptation! This is merely a fleeting gain. What if I apply myself further and find opportunities that yield even greater rewards? Yes, that's right. If these humble warriors can achieve such wealth, then we soldiers also have a chance!

The soldier's eyes burned with fervor as he saluted his Guardian once more before exiting the room, resolute in his newfound determination.

Meanwhile, Vesta remained oblivious to the thoughts brewing within his soldier's mind, his own thoughts consumed by suspicions and attempts to discern the true intent behind the demonic attacks. He let out a long, weary sigh and reclined in his chair, his gaze fixed upon the ceiling.

As he was on the verge of closing his eyes, his attention was abruptly drawn to his daughter. "Father, may I touch it?" Diana stood before him, her hand already reaching out to grasp one of the eyeballs, her eyes brimming with eager anticipation.

Her radiant beauty seemed at odds with her enthralled expression and the strange object she held, causing Vesta's face to twitch involuntarily. "No," he firmly responded, swiftly retrieving all the eyeballs and stashing them away in a desk drawer.

"Clean your hands and go to sleep. It's not advisable for young ladies to stay up too late," Vesta advised, returning his focus to the task at hand—revising the report pertaining to the investigation of the demons. However, even as he worked, he couldn't help but catch snippets of his daughter's grumbling and indignant snorts.