The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

On this ominous night, Desmond stood tall, clutching a sword ablaze with flames that danced along its edge. The fiery glow cast an ethereal light under the moon's watchful gaze, illuminating Desmond's eyes brimming with exhilaration as he wielded the flaming weapon in his right hand.

Upon closer inspection, the flames seemed to hover just above the sword's edge, separated by a delicate, translucent barrier that restrained the fire from consuming the blade entirely. The fire's heat radiated, caressing the metal with a gentle, controlled intensity.

"Status," Desmond commanded, his voice cutting through the darkness.

[-Status-

Name: Desmond

Gender: Male

Age: 10 years

Race: Half-Human (50%)

Class: 1st Swordsman/0th Dragon Slayer

Occupation: None

Unique Energy: 23.82/43.82

Strength: 28.77 ( 57.54 ⇈ )

Agility: 21.02 ( 42.04 ⇈ )

Stamina: 8.43

Dragon Essence: 0]

"Looks good!" Desmond exhaled, feeling the surge of power coursing through his veins. In that moment, he envisioned himself effortlessly felling a pack of Dire Wolves with a single strike. "Although this power is remarkable, its aftermath is dreadful," he acknowledged, a wry smile curling upon his lips as he recalled the earlier notification.

"First, I must adapt to this newfound power," Desmond resolved. He flexed his arms, fine-tuning his control, before directing his strength into a forceful punch towards the ground.

*CRACK*

The earth beneath him shattered, sending fissures sprawling out like a spider's web, originating from the point of impact. The fractures spread, encompassing a one-meter radius around his hand.

"Impressive," Desmond murmured in awe. Even his former strength paled in comparison to the sheer devastation he could unleash with this newfound power, derived from only a fraction of his current reserves.

"Now, the speed," Desmond declared, his feet gliding to the right. A whirlwind of dust arose, swirling around him as his body vanished from sight.

*SWOOSH*

"Whoops." Desmond's movement abruptly ceased as he blinked his eyes, only to find himself ten meters away from his original position. "Absolutely astonishing," he exclaimed, his eyes brimming with disbelief.

After spending five minutes acquainting himself with his augmented abilities, Desmond shifted his focus towards surveying the battlefield.

To the right of the desolate forest, the darkness failed to conceal the dazzling radiance emanating from the spellbound incantations of the witches. Their enchantments blossomed into a spectacular spectacle, akin to fireworks lighting up the night sky.

Occasional sparks of fire grazed the dry trees, plummeting towards the ground below, where they ignited the green grass with a voracious hunger that spread like wildfire.

The conflagration transformed the battlefield into a tumultuous chaos, and upon closer inspection, the flames seemed to possess a life of their own. Each flicker and blaze whispered secrets, casting an eerie spell upon the surroundings.

Not far from the inferno's epicenter, one of the witches from the Steel Legion stood, her incantations echoing through the night. Her hands moved with purpose, aiming at the blazing fire that consumed the grass.

As if answering her call, the flames coalesced, slowly taking the form of a small dragon—a serpentine creature made entirely of fire, devoid of wings or limbs. The diminutive dragon measured roughly five meters in length.

With its mouth agape, the fiery serpent yearned to devour a pair of Husk Wolves engaged in combat with the soldiers.

Yet, before it could satiate its fiery appetite, a translucent barrier obstructed Desmond's view.

[System detected a combination between Basic Spell. Would you like to customize and save this spell combination?]

Desmond's mind whirled with questions as the revelation of the spell combination unfolded. How was he unaware of this potential? A sudden recollection surged within him, reminding him of past experiences when his attempts to create custom spells had always led to complications.

His eyes roamed the surroundings, seeking reassurance in the safety of his thoughts. Once assured, he proceeded to ponder a fitting name for the newfound spell.

Should he name it something as simple as "Fire Sword"? He envisioned himself wielding the fiery blade, his voice booming as he taunted his enemies, "Feel the might of the Fire Sword!"

No, that was too pedestrian.

Desmond shook his head, dismissing the initial idea. But then, the realization struck him that he remained on the battlefield, yet to test this experiment of his.

"Alright, Fire Sword!" Desmond's determination solidified. With clenched teeth, he leaped forward, making his way towards the right flank of the battleground.

[The spell has been given a name...]

[Custom Spell: Fire Sword has been created.]

[Custom Spell: Fire Sword

Info: A fusion of the Barrier Basic Spell and the Passive Spell: Control Element Fire. It imbues any sword's edge with a shimmering, non-damaging fire, sustained by a constant energy drain.

Energy: 15.00 / Sword

Energy Per Second: 0.001]

"Wow, that's impressive. The energy consumption has decreased by 5.00," Desmond remarked as he swiftly maneuvered towards the battlefield.

Glancing to his left, his expression twitched with a mischievous thought.

After all, who needs the assistance of the Teleknight Corps' stoic warriors when there were seductive mercenaries awaiting his gaze?

...

On the battlefield of the dry forest's right flank, an odd phenomenon occurred—the moonlight bathed the scene with a radiant glow, as if the moon itself blessed the wolves in their relentless assault against the human forces.

This illumination granted soldiers, mercenaries, and beasts the freedom to engage in battle without restraint, unafraid of lurking enemies concealed within the darkness.

Yet, the moonlight's benevolence only graced the battlefield, leaving the dry forest enshrouded in shadows. It was as though the enemy's presence could be seen, but their forthcoming reinforcements remained a mystery.

As Desmond arrived, his eyes beheld a sight of countless fallen and wounded soldiers, while the members of the Steel Legion fought valiantly, evading the relentless onslaught of the Husk Wolves.

Approaching the Husk Wolves directly was unnecessary for Desmond. His arrival, wielding a resplendent sword, drew the attention of multiple Husk Wolves. Around five of them redirected their menacing gaze towards him.

"Well, well, it seems I arrived just in time," Desmond declared triumphantly. A flicker of pity flashed in his eyes as he surveyed the remainder of the battlefield, strewn with the corpses of countless Husk Wolves.

*HOWL*

A mournful cry pierced the air, accompanied by the pungent scent of wild beasts. Not far from Desmond's position, one of the Husk Wolves finally closed the distance, its massive frame looming.

As Desmond observed the approaching black shadow, astonishment etched across his face.

The creature was an immense beast, nearly the size of a truck, Desmond inwardly exclaimed as he tightened his grip on his sword, bracing himself for the impending clash. With both hands firmly grasping the hilt, he raised the blade high, its tip pointing skyward, and subtly shifted one foot backward to establish a balanced stance.

*SWOOSH*

*HOWL*

Within a mere three meters, the towering Husk Wolf lunged forward, its massive jaws agape, emitting a putrid stench as it aimed directly for Desmond's head.

Reacting swiftly, Desmond contorted his body, leaning forward, while simultaneously retracting his right elbow backward, firmly clasping the sword hilt with both palms. His sword, shoulder, and elbow aligned with his chin, and his pupils constricted as his focus zeroed in on the approaching Husk Wolf.

In that exhilarating moment, time seemed to slow down. Desmond could hear his own steady breaths harmonizing with the labored breaths of the beast. He even distinguished the hushed whispers of the night breeze sweeping across the battlefield, as if the clash of fur against sword around him gradually faded into a distant murmur.