The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

Desmond's once warm gaze turned frigid, his expression becoming a mask of stoicism as he locked eyes with the struggling Laura. "Don't make a move," he commanded, his voice carrying an air of authority, while a surge of energy coursed through him, ready to be unleashed.

The natural energy within the room responded to Desmond's command, swirling and converging upon a vacant point in the air between him and Laura. Gradually, an ethereal hand materialized, its immense form seeming to envelop Laura's body, suspending her in mid-air before gently placing her on the bed. The warmth emanating from the magical healing filled her senses, offering solace and relief.

A pained smile froze upon Laura's face as her tear-filled eyes locked onto her young master's gaze. "I'm sorry, young master," she murmured, her voice tinged with remorse. Despite her injuries, she couldn't help but feel like a burden to him, her carelessness causing trouble.

Desmond remained silent, his eyes calmly fixed on the healing process, even as he read the translucent screen floating before him, displaying vital information.

[Host is penalized for employing spells of 1st class caliber.]

[Healing time and energy consumption increased from 0.10 to 0.20.]

[System detects Host is sharing energy with other entities.]

[Trait Effects are now being applied.]

[Effect Number [3]: Decrease the effects of shared energy by 10%.]

[Healing speed recovery has been reduced by 10%.]

As Desmond felt the energy within him rapidly deplete, dwindling to a mere droplet in a vast river, his gaze turned solemn. Minutes passed, and he watched the wounds on Laura's body gradually heal, his emotions simmering beneath the surface.

"I'm weary of hiding; it's time to reveal a glimpse of my true strength," Desmond declared, his voice resolute. He turned on his heel, intent on stepping out into the world beyond.

The destruction of his carriages and the demise of his remaining soldiers were unfortunate but acceptable to him. However, harming his loyal servant crossed a line he couldn't tolerate. Laura was his unwavering attendant, obeying his every command without question. Though her peculiar personality occasionally unsettled him, he believed that loyal servants deserved their master's attention.

Furthermore, the protective spell that once shielded the carriage had been shattered by the tail of the dragon-like creature. While replenishing the barrier would only squander precious energy, given the intensity of the ongoing battle, Desmond couldn't spare even a moment to meditate. The tiny remnant of power he possessed was invaluable.

"Young master, please wait," Laura pleaded weakly, her body still in the process of recuperation. Despite her fragile state, she managed to halt her young master's strides.

A closer inspection of her injury would reveal a shard of glass piercing her abdomen, leaving a fist-sized hole. It was nothing short of miraculous that she remained alive and conscious.

Desmond had already noticed her wound, which ignited his fury. He turned his head, his gaze piercing Laura's as he waited for her response.

Seeing her hesitation, Desmond resumed his stride, disregarding her words. "Just stay here and focus on defending yourself," he replied coldly, his figure now stepping outside the carriage.

Upon hearing this, a twinge of guilt flickered across Laura's face, mingling with the reddening of her eyes as a solitary tear escaped. "Yes, young master," she murmured, her voice barely audible, before sinking back onto the bed, leaning against it for support.

Meanwhile, outside the carriage, Desmond stood before his ravaged transport, silently observing the chaotic scene unfolding before him.

Desmond's carriage had miraculously survived the assault of the dragon-like creature's tail, but his attention quickly shifted to Vesta's carriage beside his own. While the roof was missing, the body remained intact. Despite its slightly towering height, Desmond managed to steal a glimpse of the opulent decorations adorning Vesta's carriage, reminiscent of a royal family's lavish style.

However, his focus swiftly returned to the front as he squinted his eyes. The hovering map in the corner of his vision revealed a cluster of red dots rapidly converging on his location. A wicked grin stretched across Desmond's face. "Good, you've arrived right on time," he muttered with a mix of anticipation and confidence.

He knew that he wouldn't stand a chance against them in his current state, unless he broke free from his self-imposed restraints.

According to the scan results provided by the system, there were approximately five assassins, each wielding the power of a 2nd class swordsman. And leading them was a short-haired woman who possessed an extraordinary presence. Desmond understood that even with all his hidden cards, like his dual-class abilities, he couldn't overcome this predicament.

After all, he hadn't yet advanced to the first realm of a Wizard, and his advantage lay solely in his vast reserve of energy.

But now...

"Activate Swordsman skill: Power Boost."

"Body Enhancement: Legs."

"Body Enhancement: Hands."

In an instant, Desmond felt a surge of searing heat envelop his entire body, accompanied by a tingling sensation that spread like wildfire. He sensed his muscles bulging from within, akin to an overinflated balloon on the verge of bursting. Intense pressure bore down upon his bones, resulting in a cacophony of cracking sounds. He clenched his teeth, drawing blood as veins bulged on his forehead.

[WARNING!! Host's body has reached the maximum effect of Swordsman skills!!]

[The system suggests that the Host ceases the current situation as the body shows signs of impending self-destruction!!]

"NO...no, stop! What the fuck are you doing?" Desmond shouted inwardly, his mind ablaze with frustration. The system had activated due to certain conditions being triggered, and allowing it to halt the current scenario would be a futile waste of pain.

"Expend my remaining energy and unleash the dormant blood within my body," Desmond commanded, his face now flushed from enduring the excruciating agony.

[WARNING!! Unsealing the energy will cause the Host's emotions to become unstable!]

[Confirming Unsealing command, Yes or No?]

"Ye...s," Desmond replied, his willpower on the verge of collapse as his body knelt upon the unforgiving ground. Thankfully, amidst the chaos of the assassins' arrows and the dragon-like creature's rampage, nobody noticed his plight.

[Initiating the unsealing process...0%]

From the very beginning, Desmond had anticipated a situation like this. He had conducted numerous small experiments, desperately researching the effects of the mysterious dragon blood. Yet, every attempt had proven fruitless, yielding no desirable results.

Frustration had gripped him as he recalled a cultivation novel he had once read, which proclaimed, "One must empty the body to receive the blessings of nature."

However, this was merely an idea, a fusion of various theories he had gleaned from the world around him, where humans were believed to lack any inherent unique energy since the creation of the world.

As Desmond's eyes gleamed with newfound hope, he stumbled upon a research entry that detailed the existence of Dragon Beasts within the Beasts race. It was a revelation that piqued his curiosity and provided a glimmer of possibility. Determined to test this theory, he was willing to take the risk.

With his body teetering on the edge of self-destruction, yet fortified by the regenerative abilities bestowed upon him by his mysterious blood, Desmond held onto a 70% confidence that he would survive this experiment. At worst, he anticipated sustaining severe injuries. In such a dire scenario, his only recourse would be to flee.

However, given the current situation and the pressing threats his guardians faced, his safety remained uncertain. If forced to choose between the protection of a wealthy family's scion and the safety of the kingdom, his guardians would undoubtedly prioritize the latter. They wouldn't even consider that the ambush had been specifically orchestrated to target him.

In the eyes of their enemies, waiting for their target to be at a disadvantage or for reinforcements to arrive was an impractical waste of time.