The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

In the end, Desmond begrudgingly accepted the harsh reality that surrounded him. He let out a contemptuous snort, his complaints hanging in the air like a bitter aftertaste. However, in that moment, he couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the subtle change in his maids' expressions.

"What?" His voice brimmed with irritation as he shot a penetrating glare at them. Their faces instantly betrayed a mix of panic and awkwardness, their eyes desperately seeking refuge by darting away. The tension lingered in the air, and Desmond, his senses attuned, detected something amiss.

"Prepare yourselves. We shall venture out," Desmond declared curtly, hastily donning his attire and securing his sword at his waist. He momentarily peered through the small window, as if seeking solace in the outside world, before turning his attention back to the room.

Annie and Laura exchanged knowing glances, their lips curving into conspiratorial smiles, and meticulously tidied up their garments before falling into an elegant stride behind their master.

*Squeak.* The door protested with a rusty, high-pitched squeal as Desmond swung it open, capturing the attention of those nearby. Eyes momentarily locked onto him before casually averting their gaze, concealing curiosity or judgment.

Desmond had grown accustomed to this scrutiny and took a confident step forward. Yet, his discerning eyes caught sight of their path to Helmfirth city, now obstructed by a massive pile of boulders. He silently made a mental note of the obstacle, unaffected, and continued his leisurely stroll.

The vexation stemming from the system's insistence on naming his newfound race still lingered in his thoughts. Nevertheless, buried deep within his heart, satisfaction and pride stirred. To become a dragon was a cherished fantasy of every young boy!

Vivid images danced in his mind, envisioning his colossal form soaring through the sky, instilling terror in others. The mere thought of his impenetrable scales, defying most attacks, and his fiery breath, capable of unleashing scorching flames, brought a wide grin to Desmond's face.

Unbeknownst to him, his jubilant expression stretched from ear to ear, earning him strange glances from passersby. Laura and Annie had already noticed this change, their excitement barely contained. However, their unwavering loyalty compelled them to walk beside him, observing his expressions with silent delight.

Most of the people they encountered were weary soldiers clutching pieces of bread or bearing buckets of water. The mercenaries, in contrast, seemed more at ease in their well-organized camps, with their stockpiles of food carefully secured.

After a brief moment of captivation, Desmond and his maids found themselves approaching the bustling camps. The horse-drawn carriages stood parked at the forefront, necessitating a few minutes of walking to reach the heart of the encampments.

Desmond's eyes began to roam the surroundings, and he soon noticed that the Corps of Teleknights camp, along with the Steel Legion mercenaries, had been erected not too far from the soldiers' quarters.

It appeared that, following the conclusion of the recent battle, they had arranged their camps in close proximity to one another, with the kingdom tent standing as a focal point, vigilantly guarded by numerous soldiers.

Unbeknownst to Desmond, Annie and Laura's eyes sparkled with excitement, their lips curling into gentle smiles as they observed their young master's ever-changing expressions. However, their smiles froze momentarily when Desmond suddenly turned around. They instinctively lowered their heads, overcome by a sudden wave of embarrassment.

To their astonishment, their young master chose to remain silent, allowing the matter to pass as he resumed his stride.

Meanwhile, Desmond shook his head, his mind filled with ponderings. How could two people not develop affection for one another after spending several years together? The question lingered, reinforced by his unwavering protectiveness when he had witnessed Laura sustain an injury.

Desmond's resolve remained unwavering as he felt unafraid to take further action in cultivating their relationship. However, he acknowledged that his feelings towards his maids were not profound; he considered them valuable subordinates, neither less nor more.

Moreover, the constant threat of the enemy looming over his family prevented Desmond from indulging in any further emotional attachments. At that moment, his elder sister Alice's image flashed vividly in his mind, serving as a reminder that his loyalty should lie primarily with his family.

"Greetings, sisters," Desmond cordially addressed the members of the mercenaries' camp as he arrived. His voice resonated with a confident tone, carrying enough volume for the Steel Legion members to hear.

A woman, taller than him in height, gracefully approached. Her alluring figure accentuated by her bouncing breasts, teasingly revealing the slightest hint of her nipples. With an air of seduction, she elegantly leaned towards him, her dark blue eyes fixated on him curiously.

"Welcome, young master Desmond," she purred with a seductive smile, her voice soft and tantalizing. Desmond's gaze momentarily grazed the sight before shifting upward to meet her eyes. "Where is your leader?" he inquired, his brow slightly furrowed.

Although he was just a child, Desmond carried the status of a client, which should have placed him in a position of higher regard. He expected the other members to greet him accordingly. Yet, witnessing their lackluster attitude, Desmond couldn't help but wonder if their behavior had any connection to their fallen comrade.

The woman who had greeted Desmond was Raina, Veronica's closest friend. For some inexplicable reason, when she greeted him, her womanly instincts screamed, and an unexpected shiver ran through her body. She glanced behind Desmond and found his maids' eyes fixed upon her with an intensity that emanated both pressure and threat.

Confused and taken aback, Raina shook her head, choosing to avoid any unnecessary trouble by straightening her posture. "As you can see, she is still grieving after the loss of our friend," Raina replied, her expression shifting to one of sorrow as she mentioned the word "death."

Raina excused herself, unable to shake off the unsettling feeling caused by the maids' presence. When she turned away, Laura, as cold as ever, emitted a strong aura of hostility, meticulously observing Raina's every move. Annie, standing beside her, couldn't help but feel perplexed by her sudden change in demeanor.

She glanced at Desmond, seeking some kind of reaction, only to find him indifferent to the situation.

On Desmond's part, hearing Raina's explanation stirred neither guilt nor regret within him. After all, they had just lost one of their closest friends, and it was only natural for their spirits to be dampened. "At least one of them has greeted me out of formality," Desmond thought to himself, finding a sliver of solace in the gesture.

In that moment, a spark of inspiration ignited within Desmond's eyes as an idea took shape in his mind. "Sisters, I express my condolences for the loss of your friend, but I implore you to assist me in reaching Helmfirth city before the registration period closes," he earnestly appealed to them, bowing his head humbly.

Unaware of the underlying tensions between Vesta and the mercenaries' leader, as well as the conflicts within their ranks, Desmond's request stemmed purely from his genuine intentions. With his head lowered, he keenly observed their reactions, waiting patiently for their responses.

True to his expectations, Desmond noticed Veronica's attention shift towards him, her face contorting with a range of emotions. Eventually, the members began engaging in whispered discussions, deliberating the merits of his plea and contemplating the best course of action.

After a lengthy debate, Veronica rose to her feet and responded, "Young master Desmond, you are too kind. We can give it a try, but as you are aware, we have suffered a great loss." Her words carried a tinge of resignation.

While she was willing to assist him, she couldn't ignore the practical considerations of her members who were hesitant to return home, weighed down by the considerations of profit and loss.

Veronica let out a regretful sigh. If their situation persisted and they couldn't overcome this trial, perhaps this would mark the end of their mercenary endeavors. She gazed at the young boy, bitterness etching across her face.

"I understand. May I assume we have an agreement?" Desmond raised his head and inquired. His eyes shifted behind Veronica, noticing the other members of the group glancing in their direction. Their expressions were devoid of vitality, their spirits dampened.

Veronica's troubled expression lingered as she nervously bit her lower lip before responding, "Yes." Her words carried a hint of hesitation. After speaking, she swiftly turned away, only to find her exhausted comrades staring at her wearily.

Observing this somber atmosphere, Desmond shook his head. "I will provide additional gold coins as your reward," he declared, without waiting for a reply. He then turned on his heels, followed closely by his maids.

Although he had made the promise of increased compensation, Desmond couldn't shake the lingering sense of gloom among them. At the very least, he hoped that the additional reward would motivate them to work harder.

His purpose in approaching the mercenaries was to hasten their journey. If it weren't for the imperial assassins' ambush and the revelation of his true identity, Desmond wouldn't have resorted to such measures.

In this wilderness, his protectors, like Vesta and the mercenaries, had limited resources and couldn't shield him indefinitely. The recent life-and-death battle with the assassins served as a reminder of that fact.

Currently, what he needed most was time. As for power and knowledge, he relied on the system to record and store it all. Furthermore, he still had much to uncover regarding the secrets of the black dragon blood coursing through his veins.