The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

In the South West North Kingdom Territory, as Desmond's family fled for their lives, a mysterious figure with long ears found refuge in the dark corners of a small village. Had Desmond been present, he would have been astounded to witness the villagers slowly transforming into grotesque ghouls, tearing at each other's flesh.

"Young master..." trembled an elf, her long ears and light brown locks peeking out from beneath her maid attire. She watched cautiously from a village house, her body quivering as she observed the harrowing scene through a small window. Her once vibrant complexion had paled, her body emaciated. This house had become her sanctuary over the past few months, adorned with women's clothing and a cozy bed.

"I can't remain here indefinitely in this village!" whispered Shelty, the elf girl. Ever since she had heard Desmond's suggestion, she had been filled with a sense of urgency, pushing herself to the brink of the border between the North Kingdom and the treacherous outer territory. However, fate had conspired against her.

Just as she was on the cusp of freedom, a horde of ravenous beasts descended upon the land. The last village she had visited had harbored strange inhabitants, their red eyes and hole-ridden bodies a disturbing sight.

During daylight, these villagers would gaze vacantly at the sky, but come nightfall, they transformed into nightmarish creatures, their bodies grotesquely swollen and their mouths filled with rows of jagged teeth. Shelty still had time to escape; she only needed to muster her courage.

As she gazed at her reflection in the mirror, dark circles marred her once bright eyes, now a droopy shade of dark blue. Her cheeks appeared sunken, her pale lips dry and tinged with a dark brown hue.

Summoning her magic, Shelty endeavored to tread as silently as possible. She weaved her way between the houses, finally arriving at the village's exit without alerting the malevolent creatures lurking in the shadows. The moment she stepped beyond the village's boundary, tears welled up in her eyes. For over a month, this timid and fearful individual had been trapped in the same place.

Imagining her young master, she pondered how he would have unleashed his fury, perhaps even decimating these wicked beings. The thought of her fellow sisters who remained by her young master's side left her both lost in reverie and filled with envy.

Simultaneously, above the walls of Helmfirth City, an assembly of mages gathered, fervently chanting their spells aimed at the encroaching beasts. The once lush green meadows had transformed into a desolate charcoal wasteland, scattered with the corpses of fallen creatures. The city had the advantage of an unobstructed view, allowing their mages to launch attacks unhindered.

"Reinforce the walls!" commanded a voice, resonating through the air. "Prioritize the weaker beasts!" shouted another. "Swordsmen, use your strength to repel the beasts attempting to scale the walls!" The resounding impact of a forceful blow echoed as the walls trembled, releasing a cloud of dust. The beasts, in their relentless assault, sought to destroy the gate.

Yet, their strength proved insufficient. Dark green blood stained the walls' ashen facade, and fragments occasionally fell as the creatures clawed and scratched.

Following the tremor, a radiant light enveloped the gate and walls, gradually mending and restoring the damaged sections. The soldiers and mages rejoiced, their voices intertwining in celebration. The ten-meter-high walls had endured countless beastly onslaughts, thanks to the aid of the mages.

Fortunately, the absence of any C or B rank beasts offered solace to the human defenders. Otherwise, the city would have been hard-pressed to withstand these relentless attacks for months on end.

"We've depleted our energy!" the mages suddenly cried out to their comrades, sending a shiver down the swordsman's spine and filling all who heard it with dread. The mages were their wellspring of courage, allowing them to charge forward with fearless determination, unafraid of the injuries they might sustain.

"Mages, find a place to meditate and replenish your energy. As for the swordsmen who have valiantly fought alone, regroup with others and form groups of five, maintaining ten meters of space between each other!" commanded a commanding voice.

"The swordsmen defending the gate below, come and lend your aid in the defense from atop the walls. And someone, call for the elite troops to replace and guard the gate!"

A man clad in sturdy armor received the command without a hint of panic. His black eyes scanned the distance beyond the beasts, where a small flying figure could be discerned.

"City lord, the elite troops have arrived!" simultaneously, a fresh contingent of soldiers, their armor more lavish than the man's, resounded from below.

The armor boasted a distinct mark of excellence—an emblem fashioned from the renowned material known as 'Blackark.' Its dark blue hue gleamed, harmonizing with their weapons and the dire circumstances at hand. Each of these elite soldiers emanated an aura of fierceness, clearly indicative of their peak 2nd-class swordsman prowess.

A group of Upper Stage 2nd-class swordsmen! Their might was comparable to Desmond's most trusted subordinates.

"Well done! I have stood by your side for years, and I trust in your ability to defend and safeguard our family!" proclaimed the man, who was none other than the city lord, Greyson, the one who had forced Desmond to retreat in the past.

"Yes, sir!" the resounding reply, accompanied by unwavering determination in their eyes, made the surrounding swordsmen pale in comparison. However, this sight also kindled a fire within their own spirits, causing their blood to surge with fervor.

Suddenly, an unexpected wave of water materialized out of thin air, cascading over the soldiers atop the walls, momentarily stunning them.

"The academy is here to lend a hand. Feel free to call upon us if needed!" announced a collective voice as the wave of water receded, pushing back the climbing beasts. More than three hundred young mages suddenly appeared, forming a line along every part of the walls.

"The academy! Long live the king!" their voices echoed, resonating with the soldiers and the elite troops. The academy's unexpected contribution touched their hearts deeply. They had never imagined that the proud and often aloof individuals from the academy, who usually resided safely in the skies, would come to aid and defend their beloved city.

Meanwhile, Greyson turned his gaze towards the leader of the academy contingent—a poised woman in her late twenties, dressed in a white robe with silver hair cascading down. She stood there, a vision of beauty, albeit with a forced smile adorning her face.

"Sorry to burden you, Ms. Quinn," Greyson spoke with a tinge of sorrow, his head bowed as he gritted his teeth.

"Please, sir, refrain from saying that again. It is a chapter of the past for us. Now, we must focus on staying alive to fulfill his final wishes," Quinn replied softly, though she bit her lower lip and averted her gaze. It was evident that she struggled to contain her anger every time this matter was brought up.