The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

Meanwhile, in the village of Genward, which Desmond had visited during his journey to Helmfirth city, the nocturnal ambiance was cast in an otherworldly light beneath the glow of the silver moon. The atmosphere was unusually serene, as if life itself had been suspended, leaving only the paved roads devoid of any signs of activity.

Yet, had Desmond been present, he would have recognized a familiar mist shrouding the village's borders. As the sky gradually transformed into a haunting shade of red, an eerie scent reminiscent of blood permeated the air, emanating from every dwelling.

"Give me the next body, Owen," a commanding voice echoed throughout the formerly tranquil village. The voice belonged to a middle-aged man, his words reaching the ears of every inhabitant.

In one of the houses, seated before a long workbench, was the middle-aged man. He wore a long brown robe and a rounded hat, his eyes fixated on the grisly task before him. On the bench lay a human body, its limbs exposed and ready for dissection. A network of abnormal muscles bulged beneath his slim frame, while his long blonde hair cascaded down to his neck.

His sharp nose and elongated chin further accentuated his peculiar features. It was evident that he was wholly engrossed in his work, utilizing custom tools to meticulously dissect the human form.

"Elder brother, I've brought a young man," announced another middle-aged man, muscular and towering in stature, as he pushed open the door. Cradled within his arms was an unconscious young man, his elder brother's gaze filled with a mixture of anticipation and madness as he beheld the limp figure.

"Place him over there," the elder brother replied, only sparing a fleeting glance before returning his attention to the task at hand, seemingly undisturbed by the arrival of the new body.

"Brother, won't the kingdom soon discover our actions? After all, we have massacred the entire village," the bald man spoke nonchalantly, casually tossing the unconscious young man to the floor.

"That is a matter for the Imperial Empire to contend with. Our family is solely responsible for fulfilling the king's desires," the elder brother replied, retrieving a small bottle of potion from his pocket. With a deft motion, he poured the concoction onto the dissected body, causing it to convulse abruptly.

Soon, the lifeless eyes of the body glowed a malevolent shade of red, while its jaw expanded, accompanied by the growth of additional flesh and teeth.

"Another failure, tch!" The elder brother snorted in frustration, biting his lower lip in exasperation. He signaled to his younger brother to fetch the body of the unconscious young man.

Disregarding the previous experiment, which now wandered aimlessly, devoid of consciousness, the bald man disposed of it outside the house. He then carefully positioned the new body on the bench, his actions accompanied by a chilling crack as he snapped the young man's neck.

Meanwhile, back in Desmond's harrowing predicament, a chaotic clash unfolded amidst the swirling mist. Desmond displayed his agility, swiftly evading the lunging ghouls while expertly wielding his fiery sword, striking with precision.

With a graceful bend of his body, Desmond seized his earth sword with his right hand, its blade ablaze, and executed a powerful side slash, channeling the force through his left foot.

*stab*

*growl*

The ghoul, caught mid-air, met its fate as Desmond's fiery sword impaled it, sending both the creature and the weapon hurtling through the air. In an instant, Desmond conjured another sword wreathed in flames, clutching it firmly with both hands.

*stab*

*growl*

A stealthy ghoul attempting to launch a surprise attack from behind was swiftly dispatched, meeting the same fiery demise as its predecessor. Reduced to ashes, it dissipated into the ether. However, as Desmond triumphed over two foes, another ghoul descended upon him from above, while yet another approached with relentless speed from a distance.

"This is pointless, killing them one by one," Desmond muttered, his gaze fixed on the approaching ghouls. In an instant, he activated his spell, Control Element: Rain of Fire Swords. Unlike those who relied on elaborate chants and magic circles, Desmond possessed the unique ability to instantly gather and materialize the energy, shaping it into the objects of his imagination.

*swoosh*

A multitude of long, blazing fire swords materialized in mid-air, hovering with an intense heat radiating from their metallic forms. With purposeful movements, the fire swords descended upon the ghoul hovering above Desmond and those in the distance, obliterating them with lethal precision.

Reacting swiftly, Desmond sidestepped, allowing the ghoul to crash to the ground, its body consumed by the fiery onslaught, gradually disintegrating into ashes. As the battle raged, numerous notifications flashed across his field of view. Glancing at his map, he discovered a distinct absence of any red dots, indicating the successful dispatch of more than twenty ghouls.

The girls he had encountered earlier seemed to be holding their own at the village entrance, faring quite well.

"System, scan the area," Desmond commanded, ensuring the village was now secure.

[Starting to scan the area...]

[Scan complete!]

[System conclusion: No signs of life detected within a 500-meter radius.]

Simultaneously, Desmond felt the energy within his body replenishing itself. Through the automatic gathering function, the surrounding energy was actively drawn in, restoring his depleted reserves.

He then activated his spell, Control Element: Wind Hands, conjuring ethereal gusts shaped like human hands that carefully collected the ashes of the vanquished ghouls, allowing him to absorb their remnants.

As the mist that enshrouded the desolate village began to dissipate, the girls emerged, their eyes wary but filled with relief. Upon catching sight of Desmond's figure, they sighed audibly, lowering their weapons. They examined the condition of the buildings and studied him intently, trying to ascertain his true identity.

"Young master?"

"Brother?"

The girls spoke in unison, their voices unsure, for despite the resemblance, they couldn't be certain without hearing his voice.

"Yes, it's me. Come inside," Desmond replied with a hint of amusement. Their adorable expressions, heads tilted in unison, reminded him of a group of curious calves on a meadow.

After discussing their situation and selecting the most suitable house for them to rest, they assigned themselves to take turns as guards, ensuring the safety of the others. Desmond volunteered to be the first to keep watch, allowing the rest to find respite in peaceful slumber.

As he gazed at the sky, his thoughts began to wander. The once-red sky above the village had returned to its usual appearance, and the mist had dissipated. These inexplicable occurrences left Desmond feeling unsettled.

"I hope the others are safe like us," he pondered, recalling the words of his parents. They were the ones who had imparted their knowledge of swordsmanship and spells to him, even though he hadn't yet achieved mastery as a wizard or swordsman. His mother, in particular, had taught him advanced spells.

This unfamiliar sensation troubled him. While he had been perfectly fine slaughtering and eliminating those who posed a threat, whether they were evildoers or innocent individuals, the thought of his family or subordinates being endangered stirred emotions within him.

"It seems I still retain my humanity," Desmond murmured softly, his voice carrying a tinge of gravity. The memory of witnessing Felix's daughter's death, right before his eyes, weighed heavily on his conscience.

The pain she must be enduring, leaving her aging father without a chance to say goodbye—Desmond couldn't fathom the depths of sorrow that Felix would experience upon learning of his daughter's demise at the hands of the kingdom.

"While those individuals sought to justify their actions, attempting to find a reason to justify her killing," Desmond muttered, his eyes hardening with determination. The memory of their feeble attempts at reasoning remained etched in his mind.

Lost in thought, his gaze fell upon a small, unshapely piece of flesh from one of the ghouls he had slain. Picking it up with care, he examined it closely.

"The origins of these sudden ghoul appearances still elude me," he mused, his voice tinged with curiosity. "But with this flesh, I hope the system can analyze its composition and shed light on their source and how they manifest."

Placing the flesh carefully into a pouch, Desmond made a mental note to consult the system later and seek its insights into the mysterious phenomenon.