The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

"It's undeniable that this dragon is an earth dragon, judging by its shape and color," Desmond remarked, noting the dark brown hue, elongated snout, and light brown pupils that characterized the creature. Earth dragons, in Desmond's opinion, were the least impressive among their draconic counterparts.

Shifting his gaze to the final dragon, Desmond anticipated that it would share the same attributes as the first dragon.

*Slurp*

As expected, the dragon devoured all the blood clots, undergoing a transformation that endowed it with scales and horns. Once its metamorphosis was complete, the dragon made its way toward the central circle of the pentagram.

Unlike its counterparts, this last dragon didn't engage in graceful circles. Instead, it swiftly advanced toward the eastern dragon.

*Boom*

Desmond's eyes widened in astonishment as the two dragons clashed, their teeth sinking into each other's flesh without a single roar. The only audible sounds were the grinding of scales and horns against one another.

"Perhaps it's because their primary materials are the same," Desmond speculated, observing the other dragons as they continued their harmonious rotations, blissfully unaware of the escalating violence.

*Clash*

As the battle reached its climax, one dragon managed to seize a decisive advantage, sinking its teeth into the other's vulnerable flesh—an expected outcome. Yet, what happened next shook Desmond to his core. The victorious dragon promptly devoured the defeated one, falling silent as if savoring its grisly meal.

"Holy sh*t, even in my wildest imagination, this is beyond reason. Is this a dragon or a serpent?" Desmond recoiled in horror as the dragon abruptly resumed its movements, causing him to take a step back.

In response, the other dragons ceased their spinning and fixated their gazes upon each other.

"Will they follow suit?" Desmond mused aloud, envisioning a scenario in which the three dragons would engage in a fierce struggle to determine the ultimate victor, akin to a battle royale. A mischievous grin stretched across his face as he contemplated the similarity to the popular battle royale concept from his previous world.

Caught off guard, Desmond watched in awe as the three dragons coordinated their movements and merged into a single entity. The result was a massive blood clot, resembling a rock-sized nuclear explosion, hovering in the air. It filled the room, commanding Desmond's attention and evoking a sense of fear within him.

Fearing an imminent explosion, Desmond positioned himself near the room's exit, ready to activate his swordsman skills and make a swift escape. However, just as he prepared himself, a transparent screen materialized before him, accompanied by a notification from the system echoing in his mind.

[System Conclusion: Host, please channel your energy now to complete the first stage of the process. The host's awareness is required as the primary ingredient.]

Desmond understood the system's instruction and gathered his courage, replacing his fear with determination. Following the system's guidance, he stepped forward and began flowing his energy, activating his body enchantment skill as a precautionary measure against any potential danger from the growing blob.

As he circulated his energy, his consciousness entered a dark and empty space, sensing the presence of dragons faintly. Desmond closed his eyes and focused on maintaining the visualization of the empty void.

Suddenly, a resounding roar of a dragon echoed within the void, sending shivers down Desmond's spine and causing cold sweat to burst from his forehead. The roar carried an overwhelming sense of dominance and anger, in stark contrast to the previous warm and comforting roars. Three more roars followed, each causing the empty space to tremble and pressing down heavily on Desmond's consciousness.

If it weren't for Desmond's strong will, he might have fainted under the immense pressure, which felt akin to staring directly at an unrestrained aura of a third-class wizard. As time passed, the dragon roars subsided, and Desmond let out a relieved sigh, still maintaining his focus on the empty void.

But then, at that very moment, a sound akin to an explosion falling into water reverberated through the space. Weakened by the previous dragon roars, Desmond struggled to hold onto his consciousness. He observed cracks forming on the surface of the blood clot in front of him, each crack seemingly accelerating the process of another.

As the cracks spread through the blood clot, Desmond contemplated backing away from the impending danger. However, his thoughts were interrupted by another notification from the system.

[System Conclusion: Host is expected to continue channeling energy as it has reached the final stage.]

Realizing that this was the final step, specifically related to his eyes, Desmond hesitated for a moment but ultimately chose to trust the system once again and pressed on.

Suddenly, the blood clot shattered, unleashing a powerful gust of wind. Caught off guard, Desmond was blown away, his body forcefully colliding with the wall of the ritual room.

The remnants of the blood clot, carried by the gust of wind, hurtled toward Desmond at high speed. Observing the fragments flying towards him, Desmond cursed in frustration while simultaneously invoking his elemental spell control.

Using his control over the element of earth, Desmond created an earthen wall in front of him, fortifying it to withstand the impact of the sharp fragments.

Despite his efforts, the earth wall was pierced multiple times, causing Desmond to anxiously wait for the onslaught to subside. Finally, the wind died down, and the fragments ceased penetrating the wall.

Curious, Desmond cautiously peered over the wall to assess the situation on the other side.

In that instant, a fragment whizzed past him, slicing off a strand of his hair. Startled, Desmond noticed the startling change in his appearance, but he quickly regained his composure and resumed his position, waiting a few more seconds.

Then, a loud thump resounded through the room, akin to a heavy object falling from a height. Desmond, who had taken cover, felt a sense of panic. "Could it be an earthquake?" he wondered.

The subsequent thumping vibrations only intensified his anxiety, each footstep-like tremor causing the entire ritual room to shake.

"Is it possible?" Desmond pondered, contemplating the source of the tremors, which originated from the front where the blood clot had been. With each violent tremor, his heart raced faster, a sense of impending danger looming over him.

Abruptly, the shaking ceased right in front of the earth wall. Desmond, who had sought cover, braced himself, preparing to escape from whatever awaited him on the other side.

His gaze shifted from the wall to the exit of the room, his eyes locking onto the opening like a predator fixated on its prey.

...

As the barrier beside him lost its potency, Desmond's mind screamed, "NOW!"

...

With a swift surge of energy, Desmond propelled himself toward the exit. In the subterranean depths, a gentle breeze found its way in, liberating him from the previous stifling enclosure. The door leading to freedom loomed ever closer, its edges sharp and distinct, and as Desmond crossed its threshold, he couldn't help but exclaim, "I'M ALIVE!"

From the very first tremor, an uneasy sensation had coursed through Desmond's veins. He stubbornly dismissed it as a mere earthquake. However, his resolve wavered when the rumbling noise drew nearer, abruptly halting right before his wall. In response, Desmond activated the enchantment embedded within his hand, prepared for any obstacles obstructing his path to salvation.

...

Emerging into the hallway beyond, Desmond paused, allowing himself a moment to regain composure.

"Relax... I'm already far away... I'm not a coward," Desmond reassured himself, his words echoing through the corridor. "It was an instinctive survival response, something anyone would do when pushed to the edge." He turned to cast a gaze upon the enigmatic "creature" that had sent shivers down his spine.

From a distance, Desmond noticed a bone-chilling aura emanating from the door leading to the ritual chamber, causing the fine hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.

Approaching cautiously, his hand instinctively reaching for the wooden sword he habitually carried, Desmond muttered under his breath, "Shit, I forgot." His fingers closed around empty air, a realization dawning upon him.

Undeterred, Desmond began to recite an incantation, manipulating the essence of wood to materialize a sword in his grasp. "This is less than ideal," he thought to himself as he examined his creation. The wooden blade lacked embellishments or intricate details, devoid of a hilt. Yet, thanks to his vivid imagination, he had managed to bestow the tip with a keen edge.

"It'll have to suffice," he sighed, wiping the beads of sweat from his furrowed brow. The act of crafting the wooden sword had drained him of considerable energy and stamina.

While Desmond possessed the ability to forge iron swords, their quality was no superior to the ones he conjured through magic.

With the wooden sword firmly in hand, Desmond invoked a protective ward and cast a wary glance at the door leading to the ritual chamber ahead.

Thud, thud.

Desmond's footsteps reverberated through the hushed underground chambers, their sound amplifying in the cavernous space. The feeble glow emitted by the small sphere, floating steadfastly before him, cast a dim illumination that fought against the encroaching darkness, ensuring that it did not swallow him whole.

As he approached the door, Desmond came to a sudden halt, his eyes capturing a fleeting glimpse of the grotesque creature lurking within.

The intricate pentagram etched upon the ground beneath the creature remained unscathed, a testament to its formidable power. Beyond the confining circle, however, lay a scene of sheer chaos and desolation.

The once-sturdy walls of the room had been mercilessly punctured by sharp fragments of shattered blood clots. The dislodged shards scattered across the floor, their jagged edges a perilous obstacle, causing destruction in their wake. Bookshelves, once meticulously arranged and laden with volumes of knowledge, now stood in disarray, their contents strewn and defaced by the carnage unleashed.