The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

"You... You demon!" the assassin spat, his voice trembling with rage. He couldn't believe he had overlooked the brat's ability, and now his last hope lay shattered. Without a moment's hesitation, he brought his sword down, aiming to finish off the brat.

Desmond's body stood in front of the assassin, fragile as tofu. The sword sliced through his head, splitting it apart and cutting through his neck until it reached his chest. The sickening sound of metal colliding with flesh reverberated through the air.

As the assassin heard that dreadful sound once more, his anger surged like an inferno. He forcefully pulled his left foot, which was planted on Desmond's heart, and delivered another powerful kick, directly targeting Desmond's heart.

But before he could land the blow, his expression twisted into one of livid disbelief. He witnessed a hand catching his left foot and firmly gripping his sword.

On the other side, Desmond's consciousness fought against the pain, summoning all his strength to prevent further harm. He struggled to speak, but his split mouth made it nearly impossible.

The assassin's grip on his hand shattered the sword's edge into fragments, while Desmond channeled his remaining power into his other hand, determined to break the bones in the assassin's foot.

*Crack!*

The sound of bones shattering resonated along with a pained cry from the assassin. He released his grip on the sword hilt, staggering backward, clutching his injured foot.

Seeing Desmond's body still standing, its upper half split open, blood rising like small tentacles, weaving a spider-web-like structure, and regenerating new skin, the assassin's mind faltered. Overwhelmed by a sense of horror reminiscent of childhood nightmares, he collapsed to the ground, his trembling buttocks hitting the cold floor.

Casting a fleeting glance at the brat, he hastily scrambled to escape, bearing the agonizing pain in his left foot. The scene he witnessed was like a tale from a macabre horror story, etching itself into his memories.

Within the tranquil confines of the dome, the only sounds were the bubbling emanating from Desmond's body and the ragged breaths of the fleeing assassin, his back drenched in sweat.

As the assassin's body neared the exit, tears streamed down from the corners of his eyes. He felt an overwhelming gratitude for being alive, his sole desire now to return and savor the remaining moments of his life.

*Bang!*

With his face turned toward the corridor, the assassin suddenly felt an excruciating pain sear through his lower body. His complexion turned ashen as his eyes slowly glanced downward, discovering a small bullet hole piercing his knee.

Simultaneously, the sound of bones hitting the ground reached his ears. As he shifted his gaze forward, he beheld the shattered fragments of his knee scattered on the floor. The fearless assassin, who had once been bound by the chains of political power and trained as a mere tool, existed no more. In his place stood a human, overwhelmed with gratitude for the gift of life.

His body staggered for a moment before collapsing forward, his face smashing into the ground, causing a gush of blood from his nose. Teetering on the edge of consciousness, his will to survive burned within his heart as he desperately crawled toward the exit, dragging himself forward with his trembling hands.

*Step* *Step*

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps resonated through the air, accompanied by a gust of chilling wind that swept toward the exit. "You are a sinner, responsible for the deaths of many innocent lives. Leaving you alive is akin to letting a wolf roam freely among a flock of sheep," a voice, cold as ice, pierced through the assassin's ears.

Meanwhile, Desmond approached the lifeless assassin, his blood still forming an eerie structure atop his fractured skull. He looked down upon the fallen figure and stomped his feet in the assassin's direction.

*Splash!*

With a surge of strength, the assassin's waist burst open like a ripe watermelon. The flicker of life within him extinguished, his hand falling limply forward.

As soon as the assassin's hand hit the ground, Desmond waited for a moment before a transparent screen materialized before his eyes. A breath of exhaustion escaped his lips, and his tense shoulders finally relaxed.

Taking in the situation, he realized he had not only managed to eliminate all of the assassins but had also gained an inheritance from the dragon slayer class. However, when considering the costs and benefits, it seemed like a precarious balance, as his body displayed clear signs of overexhaustion.

The cell seemed to cry out in agony, bones cracking audibly. Desmond's gaze fell upon patches of peeled skin on various parts of his body, revealing twitching, bleeding flesh beneath.

"Status," Desmond muttered weakly, his body struggling to forge ahead. He fought to keep his consciousness from succumbing to darkness.

[Scanning Host Body...]

[Scan Complete!]

[-Status-

Name: Desmond

Gender: Male

Age: 10 years

Race: ???

Class: -

Occupation: None

Unique Energy: 0.00/52.78

Strength: 28.96 (115.84 ⇈)

Agility: 21.51 (86.04 ⇈)

Stamina: 0.001/10.43

Dragon Essence: 0

Active Skills:

- Power Boost

- Body Enhancement x4]

When his eyes caught sight of the minuscule amount of stamina left, a dry laugh escaped Desmond's lips. The world before him was shrouded in darkness, the surrounding landscape appearing as if viewed through a vignette.

As his body exited the dome, sunlight greeted him, accompanied by a gentle breeze that caressed his long hair. Desmond pressed onward, but after a few faltering steps, his exhausted body succumbed to the ground. Despite mustering every ounce of his remaining strength, his body refused to budge.

His eyelids drooped, threatening to close his view, but his indomitable will kept his gaze fixed upon the surroundings.

Noticing a small pond beside him, its surface reflecting the lush vegetation and the trees casting dappled shadows, Desmond's consciousness slowly descended into darkness.

Once Desmond slipped into unconsciousness, birds perched in nearby trees flapped their wings and alighted upon his back, while ants ventured forth, cautiously exploring his face.

Not far from his location, the sound of incantations being chanted resonated through the air, accompanied by the battle cries of humans. If Desmond had managed to take a few more steps, his body may have found its final resting place upon the blood-stained battlefield.

Suddenly, the animals surrounding Desmond's body scattered in panic. As the last of them disappeared, a shadow cast itself over his prone form—a human-like figure with flowing hair billowing in mid-air.

The person's face remained obscured by the shadow, shielding it from the sun's rays. Yet, upon catching sight of Desmond's lifeless body, a smile crept across their lips, revealing a flash of white teeth. With utmost care, the figure lifted Desmond's body onto their back.

"Young master..." the person spoke softly, their body steadily moving toward a waiting carriage on the outskirts of the battlefield.