The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

"So you're quite the swordsman," Krox observed, his sharp gaze fixed on Desmond's bulging muscles that rippled with newfound strength.

With a mischievous smile, Krox chanted an incantation, weaving his magic seamlessly with the surrounding shadows. From the ethereal darkness, a pack of wolves materialized, their piercing eyes locked onto Desmond with predatory intent.

"Capture him, Brock!" Krox commanded, his voice laced with an air of confidence.

Unbeknownst to Desmond, lost in his intense focus on the snarling wolf before him, Brock, the burly man whom Grimm had previously clashed with, stealthily closed in, ensnaring Desmond from behind in an iron grip.

A low growl of frustration escaped Desmond's lips as his movement became stifled. Swift as a striking snake, he whirled around, his blade a blur as it found its mark, sinking deep into Brock's gut.

A sickening "pop" echoed through the air as Desmond's sword pierced through Brock's stomach, and with a sudden surge of strength, he wrenched himself free from the restraining hold.

Brock's pained cry pierced the chaos, the agony etched across his face. Gripping his own weapon, he lunged toward Desmond, who had swiftly distanced himself.

In an instant, Krox's shadow wolf sunk its teeth into Desmond's exposed neck, causing a sharp gasp of pain to escape his lips.

"Fierce bastard!" Desmond grunted, his free hand grappling with the wolf's head, desperately trying to pry loose its relentless jaws.

Amidst the struggle, Desmond's sword struck true, the blade impaling the shadow wolf's body. A mournful howl resonated through the battleground as the wolf convulsed from the impact.

Seeing his weapon fail to free him, Desmond discarded the sword, opting to rely on his raw strength. With a primal roar, he seized the wolf's head, still clamped onto his neck, and with a mighty heave, flung it forward, crashing into the oncoming Brock.

The collision sent shockwaves rippling through Desmond's foes, a testament to his augmented power as a first-class swordsman. The impact forced Brock to stagger backward, momentarily stunned.

"Nicely done!" Desmond began to catch his breath, a glimmer of relief fleeting across his face.

Before he could fully recover, however, the remaining wolves descended upon him, their teeth sinking into every exposed inch of his body.

"Fucking hell! Fuck! Fuck!" Desmond's voice rang out, the expletives escaping his lips as he gritted his teeth against the searing pain of the relentless wolf bites.

Bleeding and battered, Desmond surveyed his mangled form, covered in a tapestry of bite marks that oozed crimson rivulets.

"Ah... fuck," he muttered, his voice laced with both frustration and determination.

His gaze darted around, searching for his discarded weapon, abandoned amidst the chaos on the ground.

With a desperate resolve, Desmond's hands found his sword once more, and he swung it with a fury born of desperation.

Yet, as his blade sliced through the air, it passed harmlessly through the shadowy bodies of the wolves, as if it were merely a phantom cutting through mist.

"What the fuck!" Desmond roared, his frustration mingling with a surge of alarm.

More wolves joined the relentless assault, sinking their fangs deeper into his flesh, from his head down to his toes.

Their weight and ferocity overwhelmed him, forcing Desmond to collapse under the crushing force, his body giving way beneath the onslaught of darkness.

"This shadow wolf... it's unlike anything I've faced before," Desmond thought, a flicker of realization lighting up his mind. The realization dawned upon him: these creatures were born of shadow and darkness, presenting a formidable challenge he had never encountered until now.

Even in his battered state, Desmond managed to maintain a sense of calm, his mind racing to devise a solution. He instinctively checked his status, only to discover that his depleted energy had unexpectedly increased by 0.50.

"Hopefully, my hunch is right," he murmured to himself, determination shining in his eyes.

Yet, as Desmond's vision started to blur, the toll of blood loss taking its toll on his body, the incessant bites from the wolves began to render his vital veins numb, their relentless assault pushing him to the brink.

From a distance, Grimm and Krox, witnessing the torment, erupted in laughter. "Torture truly is an amusing spectacle!" Grimm exclaimed, unable to contain his sadistic glee.

"Remember, don't kill him. We still have a use for him. I want to delve into that kid's mind," Krox interjected, a cruel smirk playing on his lips.

"By the way, how could you fail to recognize such a talented young man in your own territory?" Krox taunted Grimm, attempting to undermine his credibility.

Grimm's brow furrowed, annoyance etching his features. "I have more pressing matters to attend to," he retorted dismissively, rolling his eyes as he refocused on Desmond. Yet, a flicker of curiosity danced in his gaze, intrigued by the mysterious aura surrounding Desmond.

In the midst of the chaos, Desmond's sword swirled with the enchantment of light magic, slashing through the ranks of the assaulting wolves. Krox and Grimm were stunned by the sight that unfolded before them.

It was not merely Desmond's ability to repel the shadow wolves with his illuminated blade that left them dumbfounded, but the sudden emergence of a gaping portal leading to an otherworldly dimension behind him.

"Brock, hold him tight!" Krox's composure crumbled, replaced by a sense of urgency. He understood that if Desmond were to escape, their task would become significantly more arduous. Moreover, he couldn't help but ponder whether Desmond's presence was linked to the Kingdom, potentially revealing Grimm's treachery to Edward.

In contrast, Grimm's curiosity was piqued further, his mind consumed by questions about Desmond's origins. As he observed the young man clad in black garments, he speculated that Desmond was relatively young, judging by his stature that had yet to reach full adulthood.

Meanwhile, Desmond, biding his time, awaited the opportune moment for his escape. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a notification from the system reached him.

[Processing: 50%...]

[Status: Completed]

[Saving to Database...]

[Data Saved!]

A surge of hope welled within him as a portal materialized before his eyes, a glimpse of freedom amidst the clutches of the wolves that held him down. It was now or never!

Summoning his strength, Desmond channeled a spell into his sword, causing it to radiate with a brilliant light, a beacon of his unwavering resolve.

slash

slash

With swift slashes, Desmond cleaved through the obstructing wolf, propelling himself toward the portal with every ounce of strength. As his body neared the threshold, a surge of relief washed over him.

Yet, his elation was short-lived. The remainder of his body, still entrenched in the dimension, was ensnared by an immense force. Desmond cast a quick glance over his shoulder, his eyes widening as he recognized Brock, the very same burly man who had restrained him earlier, now exerting all his might to pull him back.

Desmond's grip tightened, straining against the immense resistance.

creak

creak

The sound of strained sinews filled the air, and Desmond could feel his hand on the verge of shattering under the strain.

[Warning!!]

[Warning!!]

[System: Caster resistance detected, dimension closure imminent in 5 seconds.]

A grim expression marred Desmond's face as he read the system notification. His gaze shifted to Grimm, who stood there with a knowing smile. Cunning, indeed.

"Tch!"

Taking a final look at the notification, then at his own hand, Desmond made a split-second decision.

slash

pop

Exhaling heavily, Desmond emerged from the dimension, gasping for precious breath. However, a glance at Grimm and Krox revealed that they had anticipated his escape, their smug expressions fueling his frustration.

"Shit!"

Surveying the desolate street, Desmond sprinted onward, his right hand pressed tightly against his wounded body. Blood trailed behind him, staining the path with crimson. He continued running until he caught sight of his household guards' shadows.

"Guards! Guards!" Unthinkingly, he called out to them, forgetting that his attire, drenched in darkness, would raise their suspicions, prompting them to raise their weapons.

"Halt! Cease your steps!"

Returning home would only expose my identity to the assassins.

Registering the guards' wary expressions, Desmond swiftly changed his course, redirecting his steps toward a distant, towering structure.

Upon reaching the building, Desmond was greeted by the sight of bold letters adorning its façade: 'Raven Soul Guild.' Disregarding his disheveled appearance and bloodied state, he stepped inside.

....

The Raven Soul Guild

The atmosphere within the guild hall was tranquil, the evening casting a serene ambiance upon the room. Only a handful of officers occupied the upper chamber, along with a diligent female receptionist stationed at her post.

Abruptly, the guild doors swung open, startling the night guard and catching the attention of the ever-vigilant receptionist.

"Hello, sir, how can we help you?" The receptionist inquired, her voice laced with concern. Her initial wariness at the sight of the enigmatic figure in tattered black garments, drenched in blood, prompted her to ready a spell, prepared for any untoward situation. However...

"A room for -"

thump

Before the receptionist could discern the man's words, he collapsed onto the table before her, his body betraying his exhaustion.

"Sir? Sir? Someone, please help me carry him!"

The guards, ever vigilant, swiftly responded, bringing forth a stretcher and delicately placing the enigmatic man upon it. The receptionist's gaze shifted from the man's missing hand to the guards, a sense of urgency emanating from her.

"Where are we taking him?"

"The most secluded chamber," the receptionist responded, her voice laced with determination as she assessed the severity of the man's condition.

The guard's eyes widened in disbelief. "Eh? Isn't that m-"

"Silence! Just take him to my quarters."

"Yes, ma'am."