The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

At the outskirts of Desmond's residence, shrouded by the expanse of grasslands, a young man stood watch, his magenta eyes narrowing as he meticulously surveilled the property. His gaze swept methodically from the apex of the house to its foundation, beads of cold sweat trickling down his temples.

"Thank the heavens..." Desmond exhaled a sigh of relief, his eyes glancing over his still intact abode, with its roof and windows intact. He observed the earthy structure that had once obstructed the dungeon, now transformed into a quagmire.

The remnants of branches, leaves, and shattered bricks littered the ground, remnants of the upheaval.

"But this can be rectified," he muttered, taking a step back. Uttering an incantation, the mire gradually yielded, returning to its mundane state.

"A fresh start, but that's of no concern," Desmond mused, his gaze drifting across the area devoid of vegetation, revealing the subterranean depths. Once assured of its safety, he retraced his steps back into the dungeon.

Arriving before the threshold of the ritual chamber, he beheld a formidable ice barrier blocking his passage. "Perhaps it operates on a similar principle," he speculated, recalling how the earth wave had restored the familiar terrain. Extending his hand to touch the ice, he commenced a spell, visualizing the gradual thawing process he recalled from his previous world.

The solid ice wall quivered under his influence, revealing subtle movements within, akin to serpents gracefully coiling and intertwining. With each rotation, a delicate bubble formed.

Babble babble

True to his expectations, the icy blockade gradually succumbed to the thawing spell, melting away to form a shallow pool of water. "Indeed," he murmured, crossing the threshold and stepping into the room.

Desmond discovered that everything remained in its original state. The pentagram etched upon the room's floor retained its tarnished appearance, and even the lifeless mouse carcass nestled in the corner remained undisturbed.

Certain areas of the walls and sections of the ritual room were adorned with visible dampness and mud, testament to the recent water intrusion. However, the rest of the room stood unaltered, as if frozen in time.

"No anomalies detected; it signifies safety," he pondered, pivoting on his heels to gather the necessary materials. Yet, in an instant, he froze, a vivid recollection of the previous uncontrollable event seizing his thoughts. "I fear a repeat of the uncontrollable chaos!"

Without directing his hand towards the materials, Desmond initiated an incantation.

Numerous slender tree roots converged at a single point, entwining and knotting themselves to form an imposing hand. Once the first hand took shape, the remaining roots scattered, finding new purpose. Coalescing once more, they assembled the skeletal framework of the second hand.

Smaller roots emerged from the ground, weaving and intertwining to flesh out the limbs, until a sturdy wooden hand emerged, its form complete.

Desmond endeavored to exert his mental control over the wooden hands, flexing his fists and releasing them. "Excellent," he assessed. This time, he employed the wood element to fashion the hands, understanding that while he could only perceive rocks and water, attempting to conjure a hundred wooden hands would be a futile endeavor.

"It matters not," he concluded, "as long as they are not comprised of earth. Besides, with the spilled blood bags, additional hands would serve no purpose."

With that in mind, Desmond conjured only two colossal wooden hands, each matching his own size, to delicately lift the slumbering Elf and the restrained Demon. "Gently," he commanded as the hands gingerly entered the confined space.

Thump

However, due to their immense size, the hands encountered an obstruction at the doorway. Desmond deftly manipulated the fingers, nudging the Elf and Demon past the threshold.

Thump

Once the Elf and Demon had safely entered the confines of the pentagram, Desmond ceased the flow of energy into the wooden hands. Gradually, the hands reverted to their original form of roots and settled back into the earth.

Recalling the knowledge he had gleaned from a book on pentagrams, Desmond positioned the Elf's body towards the north, within the outer circle of the intricate symbol. He then turned his attention to the pouch containing the Demon, ready to recite the necessary spell.

"Basic Spell: Hypnotize," he intoned, gripping the Demon's head firmly.

Initially, as Desmond unsealed the pouch, the Demon's gaze darted about in apprehension, searching for any avenue of escape. Yet, suddenly, a sense of heaviness seemed to envelop the Demon's consciousness.

The fiery red in the Demon's eyes dimmed perceptibly as Desmond cast the spell, experimenting with this particular incantation for the first time. With caution, he waved his hand before the Demon, uttering a simple greeting.

"Hello..."

Slap

When the Demon failed to react even after being slapped, Desmond discerned that the spell had taken effect. Satisfied with the outcome, he remarked, "Excellent, now for the Elf."

Guiding the Demon to the outer circle of the southern pentagram, Desmond pivoted to hypnotize the unconscious Elf, her body reclined. Reciting the incantation once more, he harbored doubts about its efficacy, considering the Elf's slumbering state.

Desmond seized the Elf's shoulder and shook her gently but persistently, endeavoring to rouse her from her deep sleep. With each sway, the Elf's bosom gracefully swayed in tandem. Yet, Desmond remained focused on the task at hand, undeterred by the sight. He continued shaking the Elf until she gradually stirred awake.

"AH!" the Elf let out a startled cry as she awakened, her beautiful eyes struggling to focus as the world spun around her.

Reacting swiftly, Desmond swiftly cast a hypnotic spell, causing the Elf to resemble a motionless doll, fixated on him. "Good," he affirmed, stepping back to observe the pentagram from a distance. "Now, only the blood of the east and west remain." The intricate details of the pentagram formation flooded back into his memory, aided by the assistance of the system.

Making his way towards the exit of the ritual room, Desmond's gaze fell upon a pool of blood on the ground. However, only small amounts of blood remained in each pool. "Damn, controlling this blood will prove challenging, especially distinguishing between human blood and snake's blood," he pondered.

Not only were the colors of the blood similar, but dried traces of it clung to the clay walls as well. The clay's porous surface eagerly absorbed the blood, thanks to its lining on the walls and stone floor.

Taking a decisive stance, Desmond declared, "Fortunately, I am a wizard. Elemental Control: Water."

The pool of blood on the floor stirred, rising and merging with the other scattered droplets. The blood flowed towards Desmond and halted, even the dried streaks on the clay walls became malleable under his influence.

"Since blood is akin to water, possessing a certain viscosity, the principles of controlling this element remain fundamentally similar," Desmond explained as he deftly manipulated the blood, dividing it into two distinct entities.

Given the inability to discern the blood of lizards from that of snakes due to their mingled state, Desmond resolved to place the two blood clots in opposing directions: one towards the east and the other towards the west.

Nodding with a sense of accomplishment, Desmond inquired, "So, what comes next?"

[System Conclusion: The host is expected to make the Elf and Demon bleed, then imbue this pentagram with a fraction of the host's energy.]

"Very well, give me a moment..." Desmond approached the Demon, conjuring a small knife made of ice and carefully slicing the Demon's wrist.

*pop* *pop*

Blood trickled from the Demon's wrist, yet the Demon's expression remained unchanged. Desmond lowered his gaze towards the pentagram, but no discernible reaction occurred.

"Perhaps the Elf's blood will yield different results," he mused to himself. Replicating the process, Desmond repeated the incision on the Elf's wrist, his eyes once again fixated on the pentagram's response.

"Curious, what does the system suggest as the next step?" Desmond had only managed to peruse a portion of the book, thus relying on the system to provide guidance or further insights.

After pouring his energy into the pentagram and attempting to activate it, Desmond grew increasingly frustrated when there was still no response. He furrowed his brow, deep in thought, trying to comprehend the next step.

[System Conclusion: In this pentagram, there are three stages: 'Purity,' 'Engrave,' and the final stage, 'Dragonized.' At present, the host is still in the purity stage. Once all the blood has been collected, the host is expected to activate this formation.]

"Hmm... activate it? Does that mean I need to turn it on somehow?" Desmond pondered, initially considering the idea of emitting light like a flashlight.

[System Conclusion: The book only mentions 'turning on.']

Desmond muttered to himself, "Let's give it a try." He began chanting a spell, conjuring a small ball of moonlight particles. This time, Desmond took control of the ball, but uncertainty crept into his mind.

"How do I turn it on?" Numerous ideas flashed through his head, but he hesitated, fearing that a wrong move could result in wasting the pentagram and its materials.

After minutes of waiting for a response from the system, it became apparent that the answer remained the same.

Desmond thought to himself, "There's no other choice. Maybe I can try this." Inspired by the principle of a flashlight, he began illuminating each individual blood component, starting with the Elf's blood and proceeding to the blood of the lizards and snakes.

Desmond then halted the movement of the ball and guided it out of the pentagram. He positioned himself outside the formation, eagerly observing for any signs of a reaction.

However, even after several minutes passed, nothing changed. Desmond even double-checked his energy reserves countless times, growing increasingly perplexed.

He pondered, "Wait, what if I need to channel energy simultaneously?" Yet, another idea swiftly surfaced in his mind. "I know, what if 'lighting' in this context refers to illuminating the pentagram according to its pattern?"

Desmond felt a strong conviction that this approach would yield results. He followed his instincts and commanded the white ball to exit the pentagram, keeping a watchful eye for any developments.

And then, after a few minutes, something utterly unexpected unfolded before Desmond's eyes, leaving him utterly speechless...