The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

Desmond's gaze fixated on the hypnotized slave beside him, his mind contemplating the possibilities. "Perhaps there's no harm in giving it a try, right?" he mused, his thoughts veering towards an experimental path.

Meanwhile, the slave remained motionless, her vacant expression akin to that of an inanimate object, devoid of agency, simply awaiting use.

Lowering his gaze, Desmond peered into the gaping hole in the ground where an elf lay. "The principle might be the same," he pondered aloud. "After all, refrigeration slows down the process of decay, doesn't it?" He nodded affirmatively, reassuring himself of the plausibility.

The incantation escaped Desmond's lips, and a chill began to pervade the air. Ice materialized, sealing the hole with a veil of frozen earth. Yet, just before the task was completed, a peculiar sight caught his attention. The slave, still under hypnosis, displayed an expression of fear.

The subtle tremor in her body and the fearful glimmer in her eyes transformed his perception of her. Desmond found himself dumbfounded. "Wasn't this elf under hypnosis?" he wondered, continuing to bury the hole with his foot, all while keeping a watchful eye on the slave's shocked countenance.

"Ah… it's been over a day already, hasn't it?" he murmured, stealing a glance at the moon's reflection shimmering upon the icy surface. Without this visual cue, he might have been disoriented, having arrived at this location well past midnight.

Conscientiously inspecting the surroundings for any sign of danger, Desmond ensured everything was secure before activating his customized spell, causing him to fade into the ethereal glow. His form melded with the silvery light, leaving only a faint shadow discernible to the discerning gaze of the Masters.

Unlike his previous encounters, time was not a pressing concern. His enhanced energy reserves allowed him to maintain this state for over twenty minutes. Although the strain on his being was palpable, leaving him feeling weary, the conscious toll was minimal, barely noticeable.

The atmosphere within the house exuded a different aura compared to Grimm's abode, despite the scarcity of illumination. Desmond's eyes fell upon the flickering candles, and he observed the minute magical crystals adorning each one. "Magic crystals," he remarked, reminiscing with a tinge of nostalgia.

"I used to play with those extensively in the past, but as of late, my duties have kept me preoccupied."

His maids proved themselves dependable in both household management and combat, ensuring that each piece of equipment was equipped with fresh magic crystals whenever their energy levels dwindled.

Desmond made his way to the kitchen, a place often frequented by Alice during her ice cream-making endeavors. Exiting the kitchen, he found himself in the area near the stairs, a gathering spot for the maids. Ascending the staircase, he finally arrived on the second floor.

As he walked, a flood of memories surged within Desmond's mind. Images of his family unfolded before him like a cherished tapestry. He recalled Alice's playful footsteps echoing up and down the stairs, the maids playfully giving chase. Memories of his parents engaged in heated arguments outside their room, and Alice's tearful outbursts that sent the maids into a frenzy.

"In my old world, I've begun to forget the warmth of my family," he lamented, sadness clouding his eyes.

Coming to a halt in front of his room, Desmond's gaze fixated on the door, a towering structure adorned with an assortment of random motifs. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and pushed the door open.

Upon entering his room, he noticed the plates and glasses he had used earlier still resting on the small table near the window, a clear indication that the maid had fallen asleep before tending to them.

Relying solely on the dim light emanating from the candle suspended above his bed, Desmond surveyed the atmosphere of his room. Were it not for the moonlight filtering through the window, casting an ethereal glow, his surroundings might have appeared eerily daunting.

Such an ambiance permeated the other rooms as well, particularly in the absence of Alice and his parents.

Embarking on the task of undressing, Desmond made his way towards his bed, standing before the mirror opposite it. His own reflection stared back at him, adorned in a coat with a rabbit mask concealing the upper half of his face.

A wave of stillness washed over Desmond as he locked eyes with his own image. He continued to observe himself, buttons of his attire slightly undone, exposing his well-built physique.

Silence lingered as he grappled to articulate the myriad emotions swirling within him. His countenance morphed, becoming a tapestry of conflicting sentiments.

Had it not been for the fox mask adorning his face, this sight might have captivated the attention of an onlooker, captivating in its allure.

"Damn..." Desmond cursed under his breath, realizing his appearance during the auction. His palm met his forehead in a resounding slap, recollecting the fact that he had neglected to specify the type of mask he desired. The memory of Laura's flushed expression and her evident embarrassment flooded his mind.

"It's all over... now I understand why she reacted that way," he muttered, flinging himself onto the bed and discarding the mask, letting it fall to the side. Covering his face with his arm, he drew in a deep breath, attempting to collect himself.

Desmond took a moment to regain his composure, his attention shifting towards the candle suspended above his bed. A groan escaped his lips as he clutched at his racing heart. The amalgamation of excitement and shame stirred within him, leaving him flustered.

"It must be due to my anticipation for tomorrow's experiment," he surmised, attempting to push the embarrassing memory aside and refocus his thoughts. Closing his eyes, he sought to find a sense of concentration.

In that instant, a gust of night wind swept into the room through the open window, causing him to shiver involuntarily. Rising to his feet, he noticed the unclosed window, with moonlight casting a gentle glow upon the wooden floor. Desmond moved swiftly, shutting the windows and drawing the curtains closed.

Returning to his prone position on the bed, he gazed up at the ceiling, endeavoring to once again close his eyes and immerse himself in meditation.

Within the recesses of his mind, a translucent screen materialized, projecting videos of his parents' battles and his own encounters within the guild. "Play them all," he commanded silently. While his eyes absorbed the scenes unfolding on the ethereal screen, he focused his mind and sought a state of deep concentration.

The gentle chirping of crickets and the distant hoot of an owl intermingled, filling the air with a soothing symphony.

Desmond's heightened senses allowed him to perceive every facet of his surroundings. His unique energy permeated the house, granting him the ability to discern the rhythmic breaths and even the soft snores of his maids. A smile graced his lips as he gleaned insight into the activities of the animals dwelling nearby.

Suddenly, his eyes flew open, and the symphony of sounds vanished into the abyss. He found himself taken aback, wondering if such an occurrence had transpired before. Almost instantaneously, the voice of the system rang out, offering an explanation to his query.

[System Conclusion: As per the book read by the host, once an individual attains the status of a 2nd class wizard, their senses become heightened through the dispersal of unique energy into the surrounding environment. This phenomenon serves as one of the distinguishing factors between a 1st class wizard and a 2nd class wizard.

Further details can be found on page 127 of the anonymous researcher's book.]

"Damn, the existence of this system feels like cheating," Desmond muttered under his breath, his mind now brimming with questions regarding the system's existence. However, he quickly realized that a more pressing query still remained unanswered. "Wait... I haven't even contemplated the most crucial question yet. Who brought about my incarnation, and for what purpose?"

Desmond's mind became a whirlwind of thoughts as he contemplated the stark contrast between the system in this world and those he had encountered in the novels he had read. "Why is there no shop feature or any instant path to strength like in other novels?" he pondered aloud. The more he dwelled on the system, the more questions sprouted in his mind, spreading like rampant roots.

The weight of these unanswered queries pressed upon him, causing his head to throb. He yearned for the truth behind his existence in this world. "What if I am nothing more than a plaything for the entertainment of a deity?" he mused, a tinge of unease coursing through him.

These thoughts spurred a newfound resolve within him. "Alright, enough. I'll see how this system can assist me throughout my life," he declared, setting aside his concerns momentarily. Desmond directed his focus towards the elusive 'energy' said to be disseminated by the system. Once again, he closed his eyes, hoping to experience the same sensations.

And indeed, the familiar sensations washed over him. He could perceive the minute movements of an ant carrying droplets of water to its nest, witness the dance of the candle flame as it flickered in the wind, and even discern the rhythmic breathing of his maids.

"How eerie... What if I keep my eyes open?" he wondered.

In that moment, Desmond would have appeared quite absurd to any bystander. He sat in a meditative posture, eyes wide open, bulging as though they were attempting to escape their sockets.

After a few seconds, he abruptly ceased his peculiar display and sat up on the bed. "Sigh, this isn't working. I can't even feel the energy flowing into my body. It's just a waste of time," he concluded, shaking his head in resignation before reclining once more, this time with his eyes closed.

Meanwhile, in the embrace of a sunny morning, the melodious chorus of birds filled the air. The maids at Desmond's residence bustled about, sweeping the courtyard, tidying the corridors, and attending to the task of washing dishes.

Within Desmond's room, he remained in his supine position as the sunlight pierced through the parting curtains, casting a direct beam into his eyes. Although the morning sunshine boasted the benefits of high vitamin D content for the skin, Desmond, still in slumber, instinctively shifted away, seeking refuge in a spot on his bed shielded from the intrusive rays.

As he adjusted his position, the sound of screeching wood reverberated from a distance. The architect responsible for designing the house had touted wood as an exquisite choice for the flooring of a noble abode, citing its ease of maintenance and the unique tactile experience it offered in comparison to the clay flooring found in royal structures. However, Desmond held a differing opinion.

To him, the employment of wood as a flooring material proved rather irksome, especially when creatures perched upon the wooden sills, grating on his nerves.