The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

"So, what about the information?" Katrina inquired, her eyes filled with curiosity.

Desmond paused for a moment, wearing a mischievous grin on his face, before clapping his hands three times. The echoes reverberated through the room, and a servant promptly entered the dining room, attentive to Desmond's call.

"Kindly instruct all the servants to vacate the premises immediately and secure the seal," Desmond commanded with authority.

"Yes, young master," the servant acknowledged, swiftly retreating from the room to carry out the orders.

Katrina and Desmond remained in the dining room, attuned to the sounds that followed. Footsteps echoed from all directions, accompanied by the gentle creaking of wooden floorboards under the weight of the departing servants.

After a few minutes, silence enveloped the house, an almost palpable stillness broken only by the faint hum of magic that surrounded them.

"Now, we can speak freely," Desmond stated, his voice laced with a newfound assurance.

Katrina's eyes widened in amazement. She never anticipated that even the humblest of servants possessed such formidable magical abilities.

"Remarkable... Are all your servants endowed with such extraordinary skills?" Katrina inquired, her fascination evident.

Desmond maintained a contemplative silence, his gaze fixated upon the window where an azure barrier obstructed their view of the outside world.

"Grimm is a traitor," Desmond pronounced, his words striking Katrina like a bolt of lightning, freezing her in disbelief.

"You must be jesting, Master Desmond. Such jests are not amusing," Katrina stuttered, her voice quivering. The notion of Grimm, a loyal companion to Desmond for years, betraying him was inconceivable.

Undeterred, Desmond rose from his seat and made his way to the kitchen. Pouring himself a cup of tea, he returned, the steam dancing in the air as he blew on the hot liquid.

"If my words still fail to convince you, allow me to present further evidence," Desmond murmured as he unraveled the bandage that swathed his right hand. "These are the wounds I sustained while eavesdropping on Grimm's clandestine conversation."

Katrina's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding with a mix of shock and denial. She couldn't fathom the idea that Grimm, an esteemed ally of the king, someone who had dutifully served for over a decade, could abruptly transform into a traitor without a discernible reason.

"How can I place my trust in this information you present?" Katrina countered, her voice tinged with skepticism. "Furthermore, if I recall correctly, your hand was injured by a Husk Wolf, not by Grimm. Do not weave a tale, young one."

A serene smile graced Desmond's lips, observing Katrina's emotional outburst with intrigue.

"And why, dear Katrina, were you so confident in the accuracy of my information previously?" Desmond quizzed, a hint of amusement lacing his words.

Katrina found herself at a loss for words, her confidence in her Guild Master's endorsement and the uncanny resemblance between Desmond and the person Grimm sought fading away. As she pondered Desmond's question, her doubts morphed into an intricate tapestry, woven with threads of uncertainty. Why had her Guild Master so readily accepted Desmond's claims without tangible evidence?

The weight of Katrina's actions weighed heavily on her mind. Why had she been so hasty in placing her trust in a mere child? Perhaps the stress of relentlessly searching for Grimm had clouded her judgment, causing her thoughts to become irrational.

Left bewildered and speechless, Katrina gazed at Desmond, his head shaking in disappointment at her incredulous expression.

"If you still doubt my words, perhaps we should resort to the knowledge transfer technique," Desmond proposed.

Katrina was rendered momentarily speechless. She couldn't fathom that Desmond was even aware of the knowledge transfer technique—a method reserved for situations where mutual trust was lacking between parties.

Suddenly, the situation had transcended dealing with a mere child. It was as if she was now facing seasoned individuals who had navigated the intricacies of the business world for years.

"Very well," she acquiesced, stepping closer and closing her eyes. Simultaneously, Desmond extended his hand, his fingertips gently touching her forehead, before closing his own eyes.

"Knowledge can only be shared when both parties willingly agree," Katrina pondered. "The wizard or witch will open their defenses, while the swordsman relinquishes their willpower."

If either of them still harbored doubt, the transfer would falter, resulting in the consumption of their energy in return.

...

Within the depths of her memories, Katrina experienced a surge of recollection courtesy of Desmond. Through his perspective, she witnessed an atmosphere reminiscent of the notorious tavern, whispered to be a site of brutal massacres. In the memory, Grimm engaged in conversation with Krox.

"I suppose I shouldn't be entirely surprised," Katrina mused inwardly. "The wealthy often conceal their dark inclinations. I had assumed Grimm's involvement would be in some nefarious pursuit, such as the purchasing of slaves or engaging in other unsavory activities."

Yet, what she heard next defied her expectations and shattered her tenuous bond with Desmond.

"Ouch!" They both recoiled, clutching their heads in discomfort.

"What in the name of all that is holy are you doing?!" Desmond snapped, his patience waning.

In her studies, Katrina had come across accounts warning of the risks associated with abruptly severing the connection during a memory transfer. It had the potential to randomly erase fragments of memories from the party who initiated the transmission.

However, were it not for the safeguards implemented within Desmond's mental framework, such a loss might have been a genuine possibility.

"Please accept my sincerest apologies, Master Desmond," Katrina pleaded, her remorse palpable.

As a seasoned individual, Katrina comprehended the perilous risks entailed in sharing information and couldn't help but wonder if Desmond had indeed lost valuable memories in the process.

"I apologize once more, Master Desmond," she repeated, her tears streaming down her face. "I'm truly sorry... I'm sorry."

Driven by the belief that Desmond might have forfeited other significant memories, she continued to apologize until tears streamed freely, her heart burdened with remorse.

"Tch, how do you expect to modify this?" he scoffed.

"That..." she faltered, confusion clouding her thoughts. Almost all the valuable information she possessed had been uncovered by Desmond. Money? They had just agreed on a paltry sum of a single gold coin. Guild status? Reputation?

Desmond was still but a child. How could he possibly desire such things?

"How... if... body," she stammered, attempting to articulate her bewilderment.

"I want the finest mercenaries to accompany me as escorts on my journey to the academy," he declared, his voice firm and resolute.

Upon hearing this, Katrina rose from her seat, her gaze brimming with gratitude. "Thank you, Master Desmond," she expressed with sincere appreciation.

Though Katrina perceived Desmond's request as relatively simple, she remained oblivious to his deep-seated paranoia regarding his forthcoming plans.

What if, by some unfortunate stroke of chance, a Flying Wizard or a Beast of A-rank or higher happened upon their path, targeting their carriage en route to the academy? It was no laughing matter for Desmond, who yearned to explore the enigmatic realms of this world.

"And now, do you trust the veracity of my information?" he inquired.

"I wholeheartedly believe in it," she affirmed resolutely.

"Very well, when will you deliver the gold coins?" he pressed on.

Katrina paused momentarily, seemingly lost in thought. Eventually, she retrieved a small notebook from her pocket.

"I shall personally deliver the coins within the next seven days," she replied decisively.

"Good, you may leave now," Desmond dismissed her, his tone curt.

"Thank you once again, Master Desmond," Katrina repeated, bowing repeatedly in a display of gratitude.

Desmond found himself taken aback by the sudden shift in their dynamic. He, who was accustomed to being the recipient of gratitude, now found himself on the other side. A flicker of thought crossed his mind, contemplating whether Katrina's altered behavior stemmed from a sense of remorse for her earlier transgressions.

Meanwhile, Katrina couldn't help but worry about the potential consequences of her impulsive use of the memory-erasing technique. She had heard tales of individuals descending into madness or even forgetting their loved ones after carelessly employing such a method.

...

As Katrina emerged from her abode, the household servants swiftly returned indoors. Laura, the first to approach Desmond, wore an expression of anxiety as she inquired, "Young master, are you unharmed? Shall I inspect your person?" She yearned to examine Desmond for any signs of injury, yet she knew that laying a hand on him would incur severe retribution.

Annie stepped forward to relay the situation. "It's just her, young master," she stated, her tone lacking the same urgency as Laura, but her eyes betraying concern.

"Ah, I see," Desmond acknowledged, his voice tinged with weariness. "You may all resume your duties now. I require rest."

"Yes, young master," the servants responded in unison before dispersing to carry out their tasks.

Desmond retired to his chamber, reclining upon his bed. Alone with his thoughts, he mused, "The matter of finances is settled, at least for the next three years, if not more. Hahaha!" A sense of relief and triumph washed over him, his amusement echoing through the confines of his sanctuary.