Reincarnated with an Analysis system.



Jira stood with his bare torso in the center of the room, his gaze unwavering as it fixated upon the tall, imposing standing mirror before him. 

The room was filled with an air of tension, and the remnants of his past defeat clung to him like a suffocating shroud. Bandages adorned most of his arm, a stark reminder of the battle he had lost.

A surge of overwhelming emotions flooded through Jira's veins, threatening to consume him entirely. The memories of Sato, his adversary, relentlessly replayed in his mind, each instance more humiliating than the last. The searing pain, both physical and psychological, had pushed Jira to his limit.

In a moment of fiery determination, Jira's fist collided with the reflective surface, shattering it into countless shards that scattered across the room. As the fragments rained down, he stood there, panting heavily, his breaths ragged and erratic.

"To think I would be defeated by a man like that...," Jira growled through clenched teeth, his voice filled with frustration and anger. He couldn't forget the infuriating smirk that had adorned Sato's face, mocking him even in the midst of his defeat.

The echoes of Jira's yell reverberated in the room, intertwining with the shards of glass that littered the floor. His fury knew no bounds as he unleashed another strike, this time a powerful kick aimed at the nearby drawer. 

The wooden structure exploded upon impact, splintering into fragments that collided with the wall, leaving behind a trail of destruction.

Jira's heart raced, his adrenaline-fueled fury palpable in the room. With his chest heaving and sweat trickling down his forehead, he stood amidst the aftermath of his outburst. 

The room bore witness to his turmoil, and the shattered mirror and splintered drawer mirrored the fragments of his shattered pride and wounded spirit.

In the midst of the shattered wreckage, a sharp knock resonated through the room, interrupting Jira's solitary contemplation. Startled, he turned his attention towards the door, uncertainty etched across his face. Then, a voice, gentle yet authoritative, emanated from the other side.

"Excuse me, Sire, but I have come to change your bandage," spoke the female voice, a sense of purpose underlying her words.

With a sigh, Jira made his way to the bed, his wounded arm exposed and covered in bandages. As he settled into a seated position, the door opened, revealing a woman dressed in a pristine white gown. 

Her hair, an extraordinary shade of vibrant green, cascaded down her back in an intricate braid. She approached Jira with a graceful stride, her eyes filled with empathy and dedication.

Kneeling before him, the woman delicately began the task of unwrapping the bandages, her touch gentle yet firm. Jira's gaze remained fixed on her, a mixture of frustration and disdain clouding his expression.

She was renowned as one of the most esteemed physicians in the kingdom of Fiona, her healing prowess extending far beyond its borders and into the territories of other powerful realms. Her reputation as a skilled doctor was unrivaled, and her expertise was sought after by kings and queens alike.

Yet, despite her fame and expertise, this was the first occasion she had been granted the opportunity to attend to the king himself. The reason was simple: Lilith, the king's trusted confidante, handled all matters concerning his well-being, including injuries and ailments. Lilith's unwavering loyalty had, until now, shielded the king from the need for outside medical assistance.

The woman's reputation preceded her, whispers of her extraordinary skills reverberating throughout the halls of the kingdom. 

Her knowledge and expertise surpassed those of any other healer in the realm, earning her the admiration and respect of both commoners and nobility. Her emerald tresses, a vibrant testament to her unique nature, framed her composed countenance as she began her work.

With utmost care and precision, she attended to Jira's wounds, her delicate touch exuding both confidence and gentleness. 

Her hands moved deftly, applying soothing ointments and meticulously replacing the bandages, her actions a symphony of healing. The room was filled with a quiet reverence, the weight of the moment palpable in the air.

As she worked, the woman's thoughts turned to Lilith, the loyal guardian who had shielded the king from harm for so long. Lilith's unwavering dedication and meticulous care had forged an unbreakable bond between them. 

And now, the esteemed physician found herself entrusted with the task of tending to the king's injuries—a responsibility she did not take lightly.

"How long is this going to keep happening?" Jira's voice dripped with bitterness, his frustration palpable in the air.

The woman, undeterred by his resentment, continued her meticulous work, her attention unwavering. As she applied soothing ointments to the burns, she offered her professional insight.

"Whatever you were burned with, it seems to be hindering your healing process. However, the burns have not worsened either. I suggest we exercise patience for a couple of days and observe how your condition progresses," She responded, her voice calm and composed.

"Wait a couple of days?" Jira echoed, his gaze wandering to the shattered glass where his reflection flickered back at him. A surge of anger surged through his veins, fueling his resolve.

In an impulsive outburst, he blurted out, "I'll kill him... I swear I'll kill him".

The woman, unyielding in her focus, continued her ministrations, unperturbed by his words. 

She understood the depth of Jira's anguish, the thirst for vengeance burning within him. With a serene determination, she met his gaze, her voice laced with a compassionate firmness.

"Sire, revenge may be tempting, but we must first ensure your recovery. Only then can we confront the one who caused you such suffering," She advised, her words carrying the weight of wisdom and caution.

"What are you…"

Before Jira could utter a word in response to the physician's comments, the heavy wooden door to his chamber swung open, revealing Valamos, standing tall with a self-assured smirk playing upon his lips. His presence commanded attention, as if he relished the opportunity to witness Jira in such a vulnerable state.

"Well now, I certainly didn't anticipate finding the great Demon Lord Jira in such a sorry state," Valamos declared, his voice laced with a mix of amusement and mockery.

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