The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

Upon arriving at the obstructed path, Desmond and Annie were greeted by a sight that unfolded before their eyes. Scores of soldiers and mercenaries from the Corps of Teleknights stood amidst the chaos, brandishing pickaxes with determination. With each strike, the solid rocks crumbled and sent pebbles dancing through the air, creating a symphony of destruction.

The scene teemed with activity, as even the resplendent beauties from the Steel Legion busied themselves, meticulously weaving protective spells around the weary bodies of the soldiers and mercenaries. Casting their spells, they unleashed the stones upon the formidable obstacle, their faces drained of color, mirroring the intensity of their efforts.

Not far from their location, a ceaseless cacophony of rocks being shattered filled the air. Rock fragments soared into the heavens, forming a swirling cloud of dust that obscured the surroundings, reminiscent of a colossal drilling machine churning away relentlessly.

Desmond and Annie's arrival did not cause a stir among the majority, save for the captain, who turned his attention towards them. "Welcome, young master," he greeted, a warm smile gracing his lips while his other eye remained fixed on the blocked path.

Acknowledging the captain's greeting with a nod, Desmond's gaze shifted towards the formidable barrier obstructing their way. A mountainous pile of rocks lay strewn across the road, forming an imposing wall. Despite the formidable obstruction, he caught a glimpse of the towering walls of Helmfirth City in the distance.

Impressed by the soldiers' ingenuity, Desmond marveled at their resourcefulness. He couldn't help but be astonished by their prowess. In his previous world, these individuals would have undoubtedly excelled as exceptional miners.

However, confusion soon clouded Desmond's thoughts as he observed the soldiers' relentless work. Even with their superior stamina, their equipment should have worn down or broken. How were they continuously breaking through the rock without pausing to replace their worn-out pickaxes?

Lost in his musings, Desmond's inquisitive nature triggered an automatic scanning function within the system, focusing on one of the soldier's pickaxes currently in use.

[Initiating target scan...]

[Scan Complete!]

[Name: Reinforced Pick Axe

Grade: Uncommon

Information: Crafted from the rare Adamantystal ore, this pickaxe possesses exceptional durability and low magic absorption.]

Reading the scan results left Desmond dumbfounded. Adamantystal? What kind of ore was that? He had never encountered or even heard of it before. The mere existence of such an ore astonished him. If it truly possessed the power to reinforce and enhance the durability of items, it could revolutionize weapon craftsmanship.

As though sensing Desmond's thoughts, the system promptly displayed a new transparent screen, providing him with the information he sought.

[Name: Adamantystal

Grade: Rare

Information: A fusion of Adamantine and Magic Crystal, this extraordinary ore is predominantly employed by soldiers and mercenaries for crafting formidable weapons such as swords, armor, boots, shields, and other sturdy items.

The system acquired this information while the Host was perusing the book titled "The Material of the Saint World."]

Absorbing the newfound knowledge, Desmond nodded with satisfaction, a flicker of surprise dancing across his face at the system's ability to conjure memories and articulate the information so vividly. Even though he had merely skimmed through the book, the system had seamlessly extracted and restored every detail, leaving him profoundly relieved.

Truly, at times like these, a machine proved itself more reliable and invaluable, Desmond contemplated. Shaking off his momentary daze, he redirected his attention toward the source of the persistent drilling sound.

Desmond turned to the captain and inquired, "Are they Vesta and the leader of the mercenaries?" The captain simply nodded in response, while Annie, standing behind Desmond, regarded the captain with cold, discerning eyes.

After observing the relentless efforts of the soldiers and mercenaries for a few minutes, Desmond couldn't help but be struck by the extent of their dedication. Yet, instead of feeling gratitude, he found himself mildly amused. After all, their primary mission was to ensure his safe passage to the city, but it seemed that one trouble after another kept cropping up along the way.

"Ah, I almost forgot that Vesta also had a mission to assess the security of the kingdom's lands," Desmond thought to himself, recognizing that there was more at stake than just his own well-being. He gestured subtly to Annie, who reciprocated the gesture with a nod, before turning his attention back to the captain.

"I understand. In that case, I shall take my leave and express my gratitude for your time and assistance," Desmond spoke with a polite tone, expressing his gratitude to the captain. He was well aware that the captain should be focusing on overseeing his soldiers at this critical juncture, yet he had spared his time to accompany Desmond and address some trivial queries.

Meanwhile, the captain couldn't help but be astonished by Desmond's demeanor as he watched him depart. He shook his head slightly, but a trace of resentment lingered in his gaze, recalling the coldness in Annie's eyes.

As Desmond veered off the main road, he continued onward into the depths of the forest. At this moment, everyone seemed too preoccupied with their tasks to pay him much attention, and he relished in the freedom this afforded him.

Annie, following behind her young master, maintained a vigilant watch over their surroundings. Her eyes constantly scanned the area, brimming with caution.

In contrast, Desmond strolled leisurely in the direction where he had previously engaged in a fierce battle with the assassins.

"Halt!" Suddenly, a soldier stood before Desmond, his fierce gaze fixed upon them, his unsheathed sword held tightly in his right hand. However, upon meeting Desmond's gaze, the soldier's expression transformed into one of utter bewilderment. "Young master?" he uttered in surprise.

He had been assigned to guard the Shapeshifter's corpse by his captain and had not participated in the mining activities like his comrades.

Upon witnessing the arrival of the young master they had been tasked to protect, the soldier lowered his weapon and let his guard down.

"Huh? What are you doing here? Did the captain assign you to guard this area?" Desmond bombarded the soldier with questions. The presence of a soldier in this location didn't faze him. After all, the appearance of the Shapeshifter had caused quite a stir. Back when Desmond was pursued by the assassin at the guild, he had no knowledge of the assassin's true identity or background.

However, through perusing various news and gathering information about the Shapeshifter, Desmond had come to realize the terrifying nature of this enigmatic being. The Shapeshifter possessed the ability to mimic any being and inherit half of their power. Yet, as a consequence, the Shapeshifter was unable to replicate their unique abilities, such as elemental or magical attacks.

This explained why the Shapeshifter, even after copying the Dragon Beast, could not unleash a breath of fire.

"Yes," the soldier replied, inwardly shocked. He had long heard rumors about this young master but witnessing him firsthand was an entirely different experience. The young master standing before him displayed a level of maturity and sagacity that belied his age, contrasting with the common perception of teenagers or young adults as prone to short tempers and poor attitudes.

"I see," Desmond replied, his gaze shifting momentarily to catch a glimpse of the Shapeshifter's lifeless body lying on the ground. The creature's eyes were crushed, and black blood seeped from the wounds.

In the vicinity of the corpse, scattered stone debris caught Desmond's attention, attracting a small group of crows that eagerly pecked at the remnants, as if there was a tantalizing morsel hidden among the rubble.

Deep in thought, Desmond contemplated absorbing the Shapeshifter's essence, but the conspicuousness of such an act in front of the soldier dissuaded him. He swiftly sent a magical message to Annie, instructing her to prepare her Memory Manipulation spell.

"Yes, young master. I am ready," Annie responded, her voice steady with resolve.

As Desmond glanced around, taking in his surroundings, a flicker of suspicion crossed the captain's mind. Sensing something amiss, he was about to question Desmond and Annie when he noticed the young master's mouth curl into a smirk.

"Uncle," Desmond called out, his tone laced with an air of mischief, "would you be so kind as to engage in a sparring session with me?"