The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

After uttering those words, he released the oppressive force and reclined in his chair, scanning the faces of the people before him. The guards, maids, and even his own attendants drew in sharp breaths as they sensed the vanishing pressure. Their countenances grew pale, drenched in perspiration, especially the maids who had only just recovered from their fainting spells.

Contrasting the weariness evident in the others, the old man's eyes sparkled with a newfound vigor as he gazed at his young master. His mouth parted, yet no words escaped, his face betraying a hesitant expression as he covertly attempted to recall the sensations he had just experienced.

Laura and Annie, who had been kneeling in submission, promptly rose to their feet, smoothing out their rumpled attire. Simultaneously, their eyes flickered with admiration as they stole glances in his direction.

The guards now regarded Desmond in a different light, realizing the tremendous pressure their young master had imposed upon them. Their bodies trembled, not from fatigue, but from a mix of excitement and awe, while a few of them displayed a hint of arrogance.

"Young master!" one of them could no longer contain his emotions and blurted out, bowing his head in deference. Startled by this sudden outburst, the remaining guards soon comprehended the situation and one by one followed suit, offering their bows to Desmond.

"That is enough," a sudden voice broke the silence. The old man's tone carried an air of solemnity as his gaze bore into the guards. "We must not disrupt the young master any further. Let us proceed before nightfall." With those words, he shouted, commanding his departure from the room.

The previously ecstatic guards immediately fell into silence upon hearing the old man's initial statement. However, when he concluded with his latter instructions, their expressions turned embarrassed, and they swiftly exited, trailing behind the old man's retreating figure.

Unbeknownst to Desmond, the observers failed to notice the perplexed look etched upon his face. His mind raced, baffled by the abrupt scene that resembled a heroic speech before a battle, straight out of a movie. Yet, Desmond felt the opposite had occurred. He hadn't intended to inspire them; instead, he had subjected them to overwhelming pressure, almost forcing them to crawl on the floor.

A quick glance at the other maids revealed only smiles of admiration and nods of understanding, as if they comprehended the guards' actions. Only Laura and Annie, the two maids who stood out from the rest, wore looks of astonishment, their gaze locked on the now-closed door.

Observing their reaction, Desmond eventually shook his head, abandoning his quest for further information. At least they still obeyed his commands.

"Lead me to my quarters," Desmond instructed the maids who were busily tidying the room.

...

Upon reaching his room and assigning Laura and Annie their tasks, Desmond collapsed onto the bed, engrossed in reading the notifications he had received upon slaying the enigmatic young man.

[Successful absorption of energy!]

[A new stat has been acquired!]

[Class information updated!]

[Displaying status screen]

[-Status-

Name: Desmond

Gender: Male

Age: 10 years

Race: Half-Dragon (30%)

Class: 2nd Class Swordsman/0th Dragon Slayer

Occupation: None

Unique Energy: 70.00 ⇈

Strength: 47.96

Agility: 40.00 ⇈

Stamina: 14.00 ⇈

Dragon Essence: 0]

"Holy sh*t!" Desmond exclaimed, jolting backward, causing his body to collide with the headboard of the bed. He was taken aback by the astounding statistics he had obtained merely by absorbing the essence of the mysterious young man.

"How could that young man have possessed such a vast amount of energy and stats? Even the beasts I've absorbed in the past only provided me with this much power after slaying at least ten of them!"

"And finally, I've attained the realm of a 2nd swordsman," Desmond muttered to himself. It was only then that he realized the bed he was seated on seemed slightly lower in height, and he could feel the coldness of the floor against his feet.

The answers soon presented themselves as his door swung open. "Young master?" Laura appeared in his line of sight, holding a basket of clothes. She looked at him with a hint of confusion, her gaze shifting towards the bed. "Were you training on the bed?" she inquired, placing the basket down and tidying up the room.

Meanwhile, Desmond stood up expressionlessly, turning to face the window in his room. "Ahem, just testing the bed. Not bad, good quality," he replied, feigning casualness as he waited for Laura to leave.

Once she departed, Desmond immediately regained control over his strength and turned his attention to the mirror. "Great! My body hasn't turned into a hulking mass! It's still relatively normal compared to that purple-haired boy," he remarked. His height had slightly increased, reaching around 170cm, and his physique was neither overly bulky nor slender—it was the perfect balance.

Satisfied with his physical condition, Desmond began to perform a series of fluid movements, leaping from side to side and executing push-ups. All of his efforts were aimed at mastering and refining his strength for the impending battles that lay ahead. He also tested his spells, noting only subtle changes as his body's capacity had slightly increased.

"Now I can match Vesta in combat without relying solely on energy. As for that old man..." Desmond trailed off, feeling a tinge of speechlessness upon realizing the existence of 4th class swordsmen. The gap between a 3rd class and a 4th class was uncertain and left him uncertain of his true standing.

...

Time passed, and Desmond grew accustomed to his new surroundings, acquainting himself with his newfound strength, while the old man procured the necessary black attire from the market.

As nightfall descended, the guards assembled in the main hall of Desmond's residence, dressed in black clothing akin to imperial empire assassins. Their unwavering focus was fixed upon the staircase.

Standing at the forefront, the old man covered the lower half of his face with black fabric, allowing his hair and upper face to caress the cold night breeze.

*Step* *Step* *Step*

The distinct sound of boot-clad footsteps resonated from upstairs, heralding Desmond's arrival. Clad in his grey attire and donning a fox mask, he emanated no pressure from his body. However, the guards keenly sensed that he was intentionally restraining his immense power, akin to a formidable beast waiting for its master's command to unleash havoc.

Following behind him were Annie and Laura, their faces concealed behind bunny masks, adorned in knee-length black gowns. Even with the masks obscuring their features, they couldn't hide their natural beauty, which left the guards in awe. Moreover, Laura emanated controlled energy, asserting her role as a valuable Witch in the forthcoming battle.

As for Annie, despite being less skilled than the guards, only Desmond knew her true worth when it came to manipulating memories.

"Greetings, young master!" As soon as Desmond came to a halt, a hundred guards echoed in hushed voices, their bodies slightly inclined forward. The sound of their collective shout, muffled by the black fabric covering their mouths, resonated throughout the hall.

"Good evening, young master," the old man stood alone, respectfully bowing his head as he greeted Desmond. He then handed over a small parchment, perplexing the young master.

Curiosity piqued, Desmond opened the parchment, his eyes widening in relief. "You nearly gave me a heart attack," he chuckled, reaching into his pocket and producing a handful of gold coins, which he handed to the old man.

The parchment contained a bill, specifying the amount spent on the purchase of the black clothes. Fortunately, the sum was still within his means, but it left him pondering. "Didn't my parents provide you with money to manage this household?" Desmond inquired, sensing no immediate urgency for an attack.

As the sinking sun cast a gentle glow upon the world, the night sky and the surrounding atmosphere retained a soft hue, preventing complete darkness. The breeze carried a warmth that only bore a hint of coolness.

The old man hesitated for a moment, his head slightly averted, as if grappling with embarrassment. Eventually, he mustered the courage to speak, "Lord and Lady did allocate funds, but since the young master's arrival, our expenditure has become somewhat excessive." He avoided direct eye contact, but his gaze lingered at the corner of his eyes.

The old man's words held truth. It had been approximately three years since Desmond's parents had last visited this city, even neglecting to send financial support.

Even behind his mask, Desmond's facial expression betrayed his astonishment. How could they have become such spendthrifts in just one day? The audacity of the old man to accuse him of reckless spending!

However, as he considered the behavior of his parents and his sister during their time in this city, it seemed less surprising that they had squandered their resources. In the past, even their own son had to work tirelessly to ensure the maintenance of their lifestyle and cover the monthly expenses required to compensate the household staff.

What irresponsible parents, Desmond thought bitterly. They had already abandoned him for several years, and now they had bequeathed him a house burdened with bills!