Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

The battlefield trembled under the weight of the storm gathering around Lucavion. Captain Eryndor, perched atop a raised platform overseeing the chaos, squinted into the distance, his sharp eyes narrowing as he took in the swirling vortex of mana. The air crackled with energy, carrying with it a sense of inevitability, of something monumental unfolding before them.

His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, though he remained calm. "He's breaking through," Eryndor muttered, his voice barely above a whisper but laden with awe.

Beside him, a younger knight, clad in polished armor, looked on with equal parts curiosity and unease. "Captain… What's happening to that man?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Who is he? Where did he come from?"

Eryndor's gaze didn't waver from Lucavion, even as the young knight's question lingered in the air. "Oddballs," he said simply, his tone carrying a strange mix of respect and resignation. "There are always oddballs in this world. We just happen to be witnessing one right now."

The knight's brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. "Oddballs…?"

Eryndor glanced briefly at the younger man, the faintest trace of a smile playing on his lips. "Men and women who defy expectations, who rise above even the loftiest of norms. People like him—Luca, was it?—they're rare. The kind who don't just survive the battlefield. They shape it."

The knight nodded slowly, though his expression betrayed more than mere curiosity. His jaw tightened, and his hand clenched around the pommel of his blade. In his eyes, faint but unmistakable, was a flicker of envy and greed.

Eryndor noticed. Of course, he did. He had seen that same look countless times before, in the eyes of men who aspired to greatness but lacked the patience, the will, or the fortune to achieve it. 'Right?' he thought, his expression neutral as he turned back to the scene below. 'How can one not feel envy at such a sight?'

For all his years as a knight—years spent honing his craft, rising through the ranks, and witnessing talent after talent—Eryndor couldn't deny the sting of envy even in his own chest. This wasn't just skill or power. This was something extraordinary. A man breaking through his limits, ascending to a higher realm of strength, right there on the battlefield.

"Sir," the knight ventured, his voice quieter now. "Should we—?"

Eryndor raised a hand, silencing him. "When the time comes, and he needs to fall back, ensure no one interferes. Let him have his time."

"But—"

"That's an order," Eryndor said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. His eyes remained on Lucavion, watching as the swirling black aura grew denser, the stars within it blazing brighter. "We're witnessing something that goes beyond the ordinary. Beyond even the exceptional. And if we interrupt, we risk ruining it. Understand?"

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The knight swallowed hard and nodded, though the envy in his eyes lingered, unspoken but palpable. He couldn't look away from the figure at the center of the storm, the young man whose very presence seemed to warp the battlefield around him.

Eryndor's thoughts turned inward as he watched the phenomenon unfold. 'I've seen prodigies, veterans, masters of their craft. But this… this is something else entirely. Even after all these years, it's hard not to feel a pang of jealousy.' His hand relaxed slightly on his sword. 'But envy or not, I know when I'm standing in the presence of something remarkable.'

The storm around Lucavion reached a crescendo, the vortex of mana roaring as if the heavens themselves acknowledged the young man's breakthrough. Monsters shrank back, their primal instincts screaming of the danger emanating from him. And yet, even in the chaos, Lucavion's movements remained deliberate, his strikes calculated, as if he were the calm eye at the center of the storm.

"Let him finish," Eryndor said quietly, almost to himself, as the battlefield seemed to hold its collective breath. "Let him show us what he's capable of."

The battlefield roared as waves of monsters surged forward, their guttural cries blending with the clash of steel and the hum of magic. Yet, amidst the chaos, Lucavion remained steadfast, his blade carving through the onslaught with unerring precision. His movements were fluid, each step and strike imbued with a confidence that seemed almost otherworldly.

Captain Eryndor watched intently from his vantage point, his gaze locked onto Lucavion. The swirling vortex of mana that had surrounded the young man moments ago had begun to dissipate, leaving behind a faint, almost imperceptible shimmer around him. Yet, what was more striking was how Lucavion hadn't faltered—not once.

He hadn't taken a single step back to focus on his breakthrough. His blade continued to weave through the chaos, cutting down monsters with a rhythm that was as methodical as it was lethal.

Eryndor's lips pressed into a thin line as he nodded to himself. "He's finished breaking through," he murmured, a note of awe creeping into his otherwise calm tone.

The younger knight beside him shot him a puzzled glance. "But… he didn't retreat. How could he have—?"

"Exactly," Eryndor interrupted, his sharp eyes never leaving Lucavion. "He broke through without pausing, without stepping back. Either he had the incredible fortune to experience an epiphany at the exact moment he needed it…"

The knight's confusion deepened. "Or?"

Eryndor's expression darkened, his voice lowering. "Or it's his talent—an innate ability so profound that even while breaking through, his body continued to move as though it was second nature."

The knight's eyes widened as he turned back to Lucavion, now carving through another wave of monsters with unyielding precision. The weight of Eryndor's words hung heavily in the air.

"If it's the former," Eryndor continued, his voice steady but laden with meaning, "then he possesses a luck so rare it's almost mythical. To break through mid-battle, at the perfect moment, without hesitation—that kind of fortune can shape legends."

"And if it's the latter?" the knight ventured hesitantly.

Eryndor's gaze hardened, his jaw tightening as he delivered his assessment. "If it's the latter, then we're looking at a killing machine of a talent. Someone who can adapt and ascend under the most extreme pressure, all while maintaining perfect control. Such a person doesn't just survive battle. They dominate it."

The knight swallowed hard, his gaze returning to Lucavion. The young man's blade flashed again, its strange, starlit aura leaving a faint trail of black light as it tore through a monstrous creature twice his size. There was no hesitation in his movements, no wasted energy. Every step, every strike was deliberate, efficient, and devastatingly effective.

The battlefield crackled with tension, the energy in the air thick and charged. Captain Eryndor's gaze remained fixed on Lucavion, his thoughts turning darker as the implications of the breakthrough settled in. This wasn't just an awe-inspiring display of talent or fortune; it was a dangerous phenomenon, one that could tip the balance of the battle.

"Sir," the knight beside him ventured hesitantly, his voice barely above the din of combat. "The sky… it's still rumbling. The monsters…"

Eryndor's expression remained impassive, though his eyes sharpened. "I know."

The breakthrough—an Awakened's moment of ascension—was a rare and powerful event. It wasn't just a personal milestone; it was a beacon. The convergence of mana, the swirling energy, the trembling sky—it all served as a siren call to the other 'beings' in the vicinity, monsters included. And here, in the heart of a monster wave, the consequences were clear.

Already, the creatures seemed to react. The weaker ones hesitated, their primal instincts warning them of the danger radiating from Lucavion. But the stronger ones, those more attuned to mana and power, grew frenzied. Their guttural cries turned into roars, their movements more aggressive as they surged toward the epicenter of the disturbance.

The knight's hand gripped his sword tightly. "Should we pull back? If this continues—"

"No," Eryndor said firmly, cutting him off. "This operation isn't designed for retreat. We're here to clear the waves, not run from them."

"But with his breakthrough acting as a beacon—"

"—It's a strain we'll manage," Eryndor finished, his tone brooking no argument. His gaze flicked back to Lucavion, who continued to fight with unyielding precision. The young man hadn't faltered, his movements as calculated and deliberate as they had been before the breakthrough began. "Besides," Eryndor added, almost to himself, "I want to see what he can do."

The knight hesitated but eventually nodded, though his unease was evident. The monsters' roars grew louder, their numbers swelling as if summoned by the mana storm that had centered around Lucavion. What had been an already challenging battle was now veering dangerously close to a full-blown onslaught.

Eryndor's thoughts turned inward as he assessed the situation. The mana storm would eventually subside, but until then, the adventurers and mercenaries would face the brunt of its consequences. Normally, in such cases, retreating and regrouping would be the best course of action. But this wasn't a normal mission. This was an extermination effort—a deliberate, focused strike to clear the sea routes of these beasts.

'And you,' Eryndor thought, his gaze narrowing on Lucavion, 'you've just made this more complicated. But also… far more interesting.'

'Adventurer Luca.'n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om