The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

In the North Kingdom, within the bustling city of Helmfirth, the echoes of battle filled the air. Humans and beasts clashed on the battlefield, their ferocious struggles a dance of life and death. Towering over them all, a mighty wall, standing ten meters (32 feet) high, stood resolute against the relentless onslaught of the enemy.

Though the wall appeared sturdy, the people who stood upon it couldn't help but feel a gnawing sense of worry. Their eyes fixated on a small but persistent breach, a hole that seemed to form with each savage attack from the beasts. Hopelessness settled upon their hearts as their spells, once hurled at the encroaching horde, proved ineffective.

Instead of retreating, the beasts grew bolder, their assaults fiercer, transforming the people's worry into a palpable fear.

At the forefront of the gate, soldiers stood firm, gripping their shields tightly. With unwavering determination, they formed a stalwart barrier, preventing the beasts from advancing through the shattered entrance. Behind them, mages chanted with fervor, weaving a massive barrier that shielded the soldiers from the razored claws of the enemy, their words resonating with raw power.

"Soldiers, stand your ground! Mages, maintain the barrier and keep healing! We need only hold this line for a moment!" commanded the general, his voice carrying through the chaotic din. Clad in gleaming armor, he stood amidst the mages and soldiers, peering through the narrow gap in his helmet at the relentless onslaught of beasts.

In his grasp, a long spear gleamed, poised to strike at any given moment.

The multitude of beasts swarmed relentlessly, akin to a swarm of bees, their larger teeth and jaws menacingly gnashing against the golden barrier. "Hold fast!" the general roared, his voice a rallying cry, as he sensed the waning morale of his soldiers. Watching the terrifying scene before them for an extended period had drained their spirits.

Tremors coursed through their legs, fueled by wild imaginations that dreaded the breach of the barrier.

ROAR! Suddenly, a colossal beast emerged from the chaos, dwarfing its counterparts, charging toward the formation with thunderous momentum. Its powerful roar struck terror into the hearts of both soldiers on the ground and atop the wall. Witnessing one of his soldiers falter, the general sprang forward, leaping from the crowd.

He planted his foot on the soldier's shoulder, propelling himself fearlessly toward the approaching behemoth.

"Break the formation and press forward!" bellowed the general, his voice infused with the heat of battle, as his limbs throbbed with the strain of swordsmanship. With a resounding cry, the turtle formation shattered, transforming into a spearhead that swept through the beasts in a single unyielding line.

The soldiers followed suit, mirroring the general's every move, thrusting forward like a spear thrust into the enemy's heart.

"Mages, lend me your power!" commanded the general, his eyes fixated on the larger beast, as he dodged its relentless onslaught with nimble grace. Suddenly, a young man emerged from behind the mages, his short brown hair and piercing green eyes brimming with determination. He glared at the mages, his gaze lacking warmth or friendliness.

"Kid, stay back!" a male mage couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance at the young man's audacious attitude. The other mages shared the sentiment, their disapproval evident. However, before the mage could unleash his scolding, a surge of immense aura emanated from the young man's body, a testament to his prowess as a first-class swordsman.

Simultaneously, wooden longswords materialized out of thin air, floating beside him.

"Grant him your strength," commanded a majestic, yet detached voice from behind the mages. Startled, they turned around, compelled to kneel, yet the voice owner stayed their subservience.

From a distance, a young lady approached with her golden hair elegantly tied and wearing lightweight armor. She walked with a graceful stride, her faint smile reflecting a regal air.

"Your Highness!" The mages greeted in unison, promptly acknowledging her presence with respect.

"My father and uncle have assured me that the battlefield is secure. I believe we can seize this moment as an opportunity to hone the skills of the younger generation," the young lady spoke, her words carrying authority. The mages, having learned from their previous encounter, refrained from offering any objections.

They began chanting a spell, summoning the ambient natural light that gradually enveloped the two youths.

"Thank you, Eliz," the young man responded calmly. As the pressure he had emanated subsided, the several wooden longswords converged into a single, sizable sword, hovering in mid-air before flashing with intensity.

BAM! In the distance, a massive wolf-like beast engaged in combat with the general suddenly toppled, its body split in half by the colossal wooden sword. The sight stunned the general and his subordinates, as their eyes instinctively traced the origin of the strike, settling upon the young man with furrowed brows and outstretched arms.

"Compared to him, my power can barely scratch his barrier!" Several months had passed since Desmond and his family initiated their rebellion. Clark had since shocked the people of the North Kingdom, including his rival Matson. He had swiftly ascended to the rank of a first-class mage and entered the middle stage of his swordsman class.

Clark was now recognized as a dual-class prodigy, a rare talent among the younger generation.

However, his popularity waned among many due to his close association with the princess. Most believed that his achievements were solely the result of her assistance.

...

As for Desmond and his family, suspicions ran rampant among the higher-ups. Not only had he slain the grandmaster, but many believed he was also the mastermind behind the beast horde. The timing of the events seemed too coincidental, with the beasts suddenly unleashing their rampage, specifically targeting Helmfirth City.

Meanwhile, as Clark mentioned Desmond, Elizabeth visibly flinched. Her gaze wandered through the expanse of the blue sky, memories flashing through her mind. The image of Desmond breaking through the ranks of experts to rescue his sister burned vividly in her memory. Slowly, that image intertwined with Clark's relentless onslaught against the beasts.

Yet, there existed a stark disparity between their strengths and personalities. "You're not his match, at least not yet," she thought to herself, shaking her head. People often said that first love was the most difficult to forget, etching itself into one's heart even after marriage. It rang true for Elizabeth.

While she could no longer accept Desmond's actions and had distanced herself emotionally, her heart continued to beat loudly whenever he crossed her mind. She scolded herself inwardly, reminding herself not to think about him. But the more she resisted, the more his charm and handsome visage seemed to grow in her imagination.

It was a dangerous allure, seducing her with his ruthlessness and unwavering gaze. Despite the danger, there was a thrilling excitement in the prospect of meeting him again.

...

As the North Kingdom grappled with the relentless beasts, in the territory of the Imperial Empire, specifically in Marina City—controlled by the esteemed Duke from the Ross family—within the opulent confines of the Ross family residence, a middle-aged man lay weakly on the floor of a certain room.

He wore nothing but common leather pants, his upper body bearing a deep cut, while a triangular-shaped magic crystal remained embedded in his chest. His disheveled hair and bruised face spoke of a fierce struggle.

"Reveal the truth, and your life may be spared. Where is he?" A young lady sat upon the small throne, her glossy black hair cascading untied down her back, accentuating her overall allure. Despite her exquisite appearance, her bright magenta eyes bore into the middle-aged man with an icy, merciless intensity, leaving no doubt that she could end his life at any moment.

"Hehe, spare me the theatrics and kill me if you dare. I will never betray the young master for as long as I live!" The middle-aged man retorted, his voice laced with mockery.

"I discovered you not far from the border. If it weren't for my grandfather saving your life, you would have become a slave to some noble. Instead of showing gratitude, you dare to threaten me. I merely seek information about your master's whereabouts, as I sense a familiar energy trace upon your person," the young lady spoke, her tone steady and unwavering.

Deep within her gaze, a blend of determination and curiosity simmered, despite her outwardly indifferent demeanor.

The middle-aged man flinched upon hearing her words, sensing an accusation of guilt and ingratitude in her statement. However, a realization dawned upon him. This could be a ploy, an attempt to manipulate his mind into confessing by convincing him that she possessed knowledge of his master and their close relationship.

Aware of the man's suspicion, he lifted his head and met the young lady's gaze with an unwavering resolve.

"How troublesome," the young lady muttered, growing irritated by his defiance. She sighed and regarded him once more before shaking her head. "Summon Marely. I require his spell to extract this person's memories."

Turning her attention to the empty air beside her, a small bug hovered in mid-air. Upon closer inspection, the bug emitted a bright light, revealing the figure of a human dressed in butler attire. The butler bowed respectfully to the young lady.

"Yes, my lady," he replied, ready to carry out her command.