The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

"Huh?" The soldier, though not lacking in wit, carefully scanned his surroundings before considering Desmond's offer. His eyes darted around, searching for any signs of suspicion, but found nothing amiss. Yet, he maintained a piercing gaze upon Desmond, silently studying him for a couple of minutes. "Young master, please cease this jesting.

Pray, enlighten me as to your true purpose in venturing into this domain."

Despite the soldier's confident tone, his suspicion remained unsubstantiated, lacking tangible evidence.

As anticipated, Desmond toyed with his act, tilting his head to the side while continuing his charade. "Uncle, what do you mean? I merely invited you to engage in a friendly sparring match. Should you lack the confidence, kindly decline my proposition." His words dripped with mockeries, further fueling the soldier's ire.

The soldier, previously restraining his anger and emotions due to Desmond's young age and his status as Master Witch's ward, could no longer contain his rage. Observing Desmond's smug countenance and noting the expression on the maid positioned behind him, fury welled within the soldier. "Certainly! Where shall we spar, then? Right here? Come!"

A wide smile spread across Desmond's face, his expectations met. After all, the soldier was merely a commoner, lacking knowledge of anything concerning the arcane arts.

In essence, most of the soldiers were peasants armed for combat with little understanding of the mystical.

Therefore, a few well-chosen words were sufficient to manipulate them, albeit ineffective against the captain's presence.

"Naturally, the swifter the pace, the greater the enjoyment," Desmond replied, unfastening his wooden sword from its sheath.

They both took a step back, creating ample space for their duel. The soldier sheathed his sword and grasped his wooden counterpart, poised and prepared even before Desmond posed the question.

"What type of spar would you prefer, young master?" Despite his vexation and irritation provoked by Desmond's taunts, the soldier maintained a respectful demeanor, mindful of his station.

Desmond, taking a moment to contemplate, raised a hand to his chin. His eyes wandered, meticulously calculating the situation at hand.

We shall clash blades amidst the verdant forest, concealed from prying eyes. Yet, if I were to dispatch him, it would arouse suspicion among the people, especially the soldier dispatched by Diana, he mused.

His intentions were clear—to investigate and experiment. Could he absorb the Shapeshifter's lifeless form? Alas, the soldier's presence obstructed his path, impeding his progress.

"Let's establish a rule: whoever receives two hits shall be deemed the loser. Feel free to unleash your full power. After all, I yearn to test my limits," Desmond confidently declared, though from the soldier's perspective, his demeanor appeared arrogant and reckless.

Hah, I worried needlessly! He's still an impassioned teenager, the soldier secretly sneered within his thoughts. To think I fretted over his intentions earlier—I was truly a fool.

"As you wish, young master," the soldier replied, shifting one foot backward. He momentarily crouched, assuming a combat stance in readiness to strike.

Observing the soldier's movement, Desmond mirrored his action, but refrained from adopting an offensive posture. A single slash should suffice to subdue him. There's no need to prolong this encounter, he pondered.

As the two adversaries locked eyes, the symphony of chirping birds resonated, accompanied by a gust of wind that billowed across their battleground.

The chorus of crickets seemed to serve as a signal for the commencement of their clash. As soon as their melodious chants ceased, and the leaves descended, obscuring their view, Desmond seized the opportunity to break the silence.

"I shall initiate the attack, uncle. Prepare yourself!" Desmond bellowed.

The soldier snorted at his arrogance, yet before he could utter a response, his eyes widened as Desmond's form vanished into thin air!

A profound stillness permeated the atmosphere, devoid of any sound of footsteps or the caress of the passing wind. The soldier's astonishment caused his breath to catch in his throat.

What! Impossible! The soldier screamed internally, only for an eerie and apprehensive sensation to grip his mind. Instinctively, honed by his training as a soldier, he brandished his sword with a single hand.

*Clank* *Crack*

The ground quaked as the wooden swords of Desmond and the soldier collided. Beneath the soldier's feet, a hairline fissure materialized on the ground.

Witnessing Desmond's audacious attack, the soldier stood dumbfounded. Following the impact, his arm tingled with numbness. He struggled to fathom that the youth before him possessed a power on par with his own.

*Swoosh*

Without further delay, the soldier took several swift steps backward, charging at Desmond who still remained suspended mid-air, stirring up a whirlwind of dust.

His sword cleaved through the air, carrying with it a gust of wind, its trajectory aligned with his gaze. The blade surged forth, exerting pressure upon Desmond.

The soldier's movements transpired too swiftly for an ordinary person to react, yet Desmond, even in his airborne state, did not succumb to panic.

As expected of a mid-stage 1st class Swordsman, Desmond mused. Though his own strength had augmented, he acknowledged his reaction speed paled in comparison to the soldier's.

The soldier possessed well-rounded attributes, with both agility and strength hovering around 30. If strength denoted the force required to shatter stone, agility epitomized the rapidity of one's reactions in battle.

With a subtle shift of his waist, Desmond twirled nimbly mid-air. Simultaneously, one of his feet hurtled downwards, colliding with the soldier's blade from above, resembling a backflip kick in motion!

Consequently, his face neared perilously close to the ground, his body suspended mid-air and upside-down, his sword angled upward, bearing the weight that intensified the maneuver.

Once again, the soldier found himself astonished by Desmond's swift response. His mind struggled to reconcile the fact that a mere boy stood nearly on par with him.

In the face of the impending kick targeting his wrist, the soldier swiftly adapted, transitioning from a right-hand grip on his wooden sword to a left-hand stance.

As a consequence of this sudden adjustment, Desmond's foot successfully connected with the soldier's right shoulder.

"Gah!" The soldier grimaced, his astonishment mounting as a searing pain surged through his right shoulder, accompanied by the sickening sound of bones breaking. Yet, in exchange for this strike, he managed to thrust his wooden sword, now in his left hand, toward Desmond's descending body.

This is your demise, boy! The soldier's lips curled into a smile as he beheld Desmond's seemingly defenseless form.

Though Desmond's physique paled in comparison to his own, the soldier, confident in his aim, directed his blade toward Desmond's abdomen.

However, what the soldier witnessed after his sword nearly struck Desmond's midsection was beyond comprehension.

A gust of wind abruptly billowed around Desmond's body, reversing his upside-down position. Before the soldier could react, Desmond materialized behind him, just as he had in his initial attack.

Upon the sword's impact, the soldier experienced a sharp pain in his neck, and darkness gradually enveloped his field of vision. His body grew limp, collapsing to the ground.

*Thumb*

Gracefully landing on the ground, Desmond smiled upon surveying the unconscious soldier. While he had proposed a spar, he had failed to specify the terms, utilizing his magic to secretly aid him.

Naturally, this engagement abstained from employing any Swordsman skills to ensure fairness. Desmond emerged triumphant due to the soldier's vulnerability to his magic, caught off guard as he was.

The battle concluded within a mere ten breaths, each participant holding their breath as if their lives hung in the balance.

"Quickly, employ your spells," Desmond instructed Annie, satisfied with the outcome of his physical test.

The verdict was in: his body proved resilient enough to withstand the full force of a mid-stage 1st class Swordsman, albeit lacking in reaction speed and agility.

[Written by DragonKnov || Published on Webnovel]

=== Weekly Challenge!! ===

1. 700 Power Stones  = +1 Illustration(Character/Scene)

2. 1400 Power Stones  = +1 Illustration(Character/Scene)

3. 2100 Power Stones  = +1 Illustration(Character/Scene)

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