The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

On the other hand, as Desmond laid eyes upon the old man, a profound hush engulfed him, leaving him utterly speechless. The old man's innocent smile persisted, but its weight was palpable, evident in the strained expressions of those around him who struggled to withstand the invisible pressure that emanated from his presence.

Desmond's mouth opened, but no words escaped his lips. He scrutinized the old man intently, lost in contemplation for a fleeting moment before eventually arriving at a conclusion that he ventured to voice. "Might you be the individual dispatched by my parents?" Desmond ventured, his inquiry tinged with uncertainty.

Though his parents had remained reticent about such matters, the old man's demeanor, accompanied by his retinue and the telltale glimmer in the coachman's eyes, provided a slim possibility that his speculation held some truth. Perhaps they were clandestine allies, a hidden force forged by his father and mother when they made their daring escape from the clutches of the formidable beast's domain.

Such was Desmond's conjecture, hinging primarily on the circumstances at hand.

Upon hearing Desmond's words, the old man's countenance illuminated, and his smile broadened even further. "Yes, indeed, young master," the old man replied, his eyes darting furtively across the surroundings before descending into silence, an air of caution enveloping him.

Witnessing this response, Desmond experienced a surge of astonishment and disbelief. Though the old man and his entourage remained under scrutiny, there was something in his gaze that struck a chord of familiarity within Desmond. It mirrored the mannerisms and gestures exhibited by the maids in his household.

A revelation flashed through Desmond's mind, compelling him to seize the moment without hesitation.

Without further ado, Desmond pivoted and faced Vesta, expressing his gratitude. "Sir Vesta, I extend my deepest appreciation for your assistance throughout this ordeal. Little did I anticipate that my parents had dispatched their trusted subordinates to retrieve me."

"Should there be no other matters requiring our attention, I shall take my leave." Desmond turned on his heel, gesturing for his maids to follow suit and join him in the waiting carriage, hardly pausing for a reply.

Seizing the opportunity, the old man sprang into action, swiftly opening the carriage door before entering himself. The swift sequence of Desmond's decision and the old man's response appeared almost instantaneous to the soldiers surrounding them. Yet, in the face of Vesta, it was a mere blur, leaving him standing there, dazed and bewildered by the sudden arrival.

The soldiers, now shaken from their reverie, gazed upon Vesta with confusion etched across their features. Should they intervene and halt the departure? But how? Hadn't they heard the mention of the boy's subordinates picking him up?

Numerous pairs of eyes settled on Vesta, stirring an awakening realization within them. "That young scoundrel," Vesta sighed wearily, dispersing the remaining soldiers back to their respective duties.

He had never fathomed that Desmond and his family harbored a multitude of hidden experts within this city. Yet, upon retrospection, it made perfect sense. The disparity in security and prosperity between this city and the capital was significant, after all...

Meanwhile, inside the carriage, Laura and Annie stood tensely behind their young master. Their eyes remained fixated on the old man positioned across from Desmond, even though a chair stood between them, as if bracing themselves for an imminent confrontation.

Desmond wasted no time, cutting straight to the chase, his voice infused with a darkened intensity. "Reveal your background, divulge your name, and enlighten me about your objectives within this city," he demanded, hitting the crux of the matter head-on.

From the moment he set foot inside the carriage, Desmond had harbored an unyielding belief that these individuals were indeed his loyal subordinates.

It appeared that his parents had somehow found the leisure to recruit formidable individuals from a distant city while they comfortably left him behind in the capital. The shadows cast upon Desmond's countenance mirrored the burden of an adult trapped within the confines of a child's body.

It was common knowledge that children of Desmond's age required substantial parental attention for their proper development. However, he contemplated the situation and realized that this might have been a blessing in disguise. If his parents had remained at home during his quest for materials, he would not have been marked with the dragon's blood.

The chances of survival on his perilous journey would have significantly diminished. He could have perished under the relentless assault of the assassins in the valley. Desmond sighed inwardly, acknowledging that he had no room for complaints.

On the other hand, the old man stood in a state of shock. Though he had often heard rumors of his young master's genius and precocious maturity, he had been inclined to believe them to be exaggerations until this moment. Dazed for a fleeting moment, he collected himself, attempting to regain his composure. Yet, his eyes filled with admiration as he beheld Desmond.

"Our masters instructed us to protect the young lady from the perils of the Aristocratic Technocracy Organization," the old man explained, his voice tinged with a sense of duty. "They personally ordered me to retrieve the young master upon his return from the journey.

However, due to the formidable power of the Aristocratic Technocracy Organization, we managed to recruit several skilled swordsmen to our cause. They have undergone introspection and pledged their unwavering loyalty to our family."

Pausing momentarily to take a measured breath, the old man cast a glance at Desmond's expression before continuing. "As for the future plans, the masters have entrusted them to you, young master."

There was a subtle note of pride in the old man's tone, as if he had already accepted Desmond's authority and presence based on his demeanor alone.

Desmond, caught off guard by this revelation, found himself grappling with the weight of responsibility bestowed upon him by his parents, despite his tender age. He initially assumed it was due to his mother's excessive pride in him and an excessive amount of trust. However, recalling their expressions, he realized that his mother would never assign him a perilous task.

This led him to a different conclusion.

"When did my parents recruit all of you?" Desmond inquired, his voice laced with curiosity.

The old man pondered for a moment, his brow furrowed. "I don't recall the exact date. However, it was during the period of the beast attacks, I believe."

Perplexed by the old man's unwavering belief in his parents, Desmond pressed further, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized every subtle change in the old man's expression.

To his surprise, the old man appeared incredulous, and his response left Desmond astounded. "Why wouldn't I believe them? Your parents saved my daughter, and she is now attending the academy, entrusted with protecting the young lady."

Desmond leaned back in his chair, pressing a hand to his forehead. He had not anticipated such an answer, but a flicker of joy danced in his eyes.

This means that my parents foresaw problems in the kingdom two or five years down the line. The old man had no ulterior motives; his parents did not judge his capabilities based solely on his age. They believed in his potential and treated him as a prodigious individual. Furthermore, the mounting issues, especially his near-assassination by the empire, had underscored the urgency of his growth.

It was clear that, once he matured, he would have to safeguard himself and his sister while his parents attended to their own responsibilities in the capital city.

Desmond pondered the purpose behind his parents' recruitment of numerous individuals and their subsequent concealment. Were they primarily concerned with protecting their family from the empire? Initially, he had entertained that notion, but observing the presence of the second-ranked swordsmen who now served as his bodyguards, it became apparent that there was more to it.

Could it be that they were preparing for an imminent war between kingdoms? While such a possibility existed, the current state of affairs only hinted at a cold war rather than open conflict.

"What if their original plan was solely focused on family protection?" Desmond mused aloud, his voice barely above a whisper. "However, something must have transpired to alter the entire course of action."

He began mentally organizing the recent events within the kingdom, from the malevolent organization's interest in him to the moment he lost his right hand during the beast attack. The memory of his hand's loss still evoked intense pain. What if he hadn't possessed the dragon's blood? What if neither he nor his parents had been able to find a Master Wizard or Witch to assist him?

He shuddered at the mere thought of being left permanently disabled.

Wait... beast attack?

Could it be that their concerns were related to the so-called Sky-Hunter? Perhaps that was the reason behind their cautious actions. Lost in contemplation, Desmond slowly returned to the present, only to realize that the carriage had already passed through the Military District and arrived at the bustling Guild District.

Laura and Annie, who had been standing behind him, visibly relaxed upon recognizing the old man as one of their own. Simultaneously, their gaze fell upon a grand castle situated at the district's end, its vast courtyard adorned with a small, elegant fountain.