Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Chapter 516: Meeting Corvina

Aeliana sat in silence for a few moments, watching the cityscape shift outside the window. The streets of Stormhaven were beginning to transition from the bustle of day to the quieter hum of the evening, the golden light casting long shadows against the cobblestone roads.

Then, without turning to face him, she finally spoke.

"What exactly are you planning to do in the city center?"

Lucavion, who had been idly stroking Vitaliara's fur, glanced up with a small smirk. "Oh? Curious, are we?"

Aeliana's amber eyes flicked toward him, unimpressed. "You dragged me into this trip. I have every right to know where we're going."

"Wow….how shameless to say that I was the one dragged you, when you basically barged in."

"Well, I learned from someone quite talented."

"….."

"So?" Aeliana gave him a flat look before repeating, "What are you planning to do?"

Lucavion exhaled through his nose, resting an elbow against the window frame. "Meeting someone. Business matters."

Aeliana's eyes narrowed slightly. "Who?"

Lucavion's smirk didn't waver. "You'll see."

Silence stretched between them.

Aeliana's fingers curled slightly against the fabric of her dress. She hated vague answers.

Her glare sharpened, but Lucavion remained entirely unbothered, turning his attention toward the passing scenery instead. His gaze followed the swaying branches of the trees lining the road, the evening light filtering through the leaves in shifting patches of gold.

Then—quietly, almost absentmindedly—he murmured to himself,

"…It's been a while since I've taken a carriage."

It was barely above a whisper, a thought spoken more to himself than anyone else.

But Aeliana caught it.

She turned her head slightly, studying him.

Lucavion's usual amusement had dimmed just slightly, his expression unreadable as he gazed out the window. It wasn't nostalgia in his voice—it was something more difficult to place.

Something distant.

Something lost.

Aeliana didn't comment on it.

Instead, she simply watched, waiting to see if he would say anything more.

But he didn't.

The moment passed, and Lucavion's smirk soon returned, his attention flicking lazily back to her as if nothing had happened.

"Well?" he mused. "Should I take that silence as a sign that you're actually being patient for once?"

Aeliana's glare sharpened, her lips pressing into a thin line. "You're the one who can't stand silence."

Lucavion raised a brow, his smirk still in place.

"Even in that cave," she continued, her voice edged with pointed accusation, "you were the one who spoke the most."

Before Lucavion could respond, a flicker of movement caught his attention.

Vitaliara, still lying curled up beside him, turned her head, golden eyes flicking toward him.

Lucavion sighed, as if the weight of the world had been placed upon his shoulders. He stretched slightly, then gave a small shrug.

"Well," he mused, "someone needed to lift the spirits of a certain sick lady."

Aeliana scoffed. "Spirits?"

"Yes, spirits. Morale. Mood. Whatever you want to call it." Lucavion tilted his head slightly, his gaze unwavering. "And it worked, did it not?"

Aeliana's fingers twitched slightly in her lap. "It worked," she admitted. Then—her voice quieter, colder— "Until you decided to take it away."

Lucavion's smirk faltered. Just slightly.

The golden light outside the carriage had deepened, the sun sinking lower, bathing the streets in a subdued glow. The gentle sway of the carriage seemed to stretch the silence between them.

Lucavion let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair before leaning back against the seat.

"Yeah…" he murmured, voice softer now. "I'm sorry for that."

Aeliana blinked.

Then she exhaled slowly, her fingers pressing lightly against the fabric of her dress.

She should still be mad.

She wanted to be mad.

But the truth was—she wasn't. Not anymore.

Not after everything.

Not when she knew the truth.

And, to be frank… seeing him like this—leaning back against the seat, his usual arrogance tempered by something quieter, something more real—it made her want to…

Aeliana tensed.

No.

No, absolutely not.

But the thought had already formed.

Some ridiculous, absurd part of her wanted to pounce on him. To grab his head, pull him against her, wrap her arms around him, and—

What are you thinking?!

Aeliana's spine stiffened, her hands curling into tight fists against her lap.

Her mind reeled, scrambling for some sort of rationality, something to drag her back from that dangerous train of thought—

And then—

A memory surfaced.

A certain moment, so vividly clear, like a drop of ink spreading through water.

Lucavion. Sleeping.

His head resting on her lap.

His breath slow, steady, his usual smirk absent, leaving behind nothing but quiet, unguarded exhaustion.

Like a child who had finally stopped fighting sleep.

Like someone who had let himself rest, if only for a moment.

Aeliana's breath caught.

She couldn't remember this.

She shouldn't remember this.

Because if she did—

If she let herself remember—

She wasn't sure she'd be able to hold back.

Her hands tightened further, her nails pressing into her palms as she forced herself to look away, to shove the memory aside before it could sink any deeper.

No.

Not now.

Not ever.

Lucavion, unaware of the war raging inside her mind, let out a quiet hum, still gazing out the window. His smirk had returned—lighter this time, absent of its usual teasing edge.

"Something on your mind, Little Ember?"

Aeliana turned her head toward him, schooling her expression into one of perfect indifference.

"Hmph." She crossed her arms. "Nothing of importance."

Lucavion chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "If you say so."

Aeliana exhaled slowly, steadying herself.

The memory was gone.

For now.

But the feeling it left behind still lingered.

******

The guild hall was in absolute chaos. The moment Corvina stepped out of the private transaction chamber and back into the main hall, she was met with a wall of noise—raised voices, desperate bargaining, and the heavy scent of blood and sweat lingering in the air.

It had been like this since the moment the expedition had failed.

Since the moment that monster had appeared.

She still could remember that day, when the first wave of adventurers returned from the expedition.

Adventurers crowded every available space—some leaning against the walls, others hunched over tables, drinking away the remnants of their terror. Healers rushed between them, tending to fresh wounds, their magic casting brief glows across exhausted faces. The scribes at the registry desk were overwhelmed, scribbling down reports while guild officials shouted over one another, trying to bring order to the chaos. And in the middle of it all, adventurers bickered and accused, their fear twisting into anger.

Corvina's fingers pressed against her temple for a brief moment before she straightened, her sharp gaze sweeping the room. 'Stormhaven hasn't seen this level of unrest in years. And all because of… that thing.'

She knew what it was.

The higher-ups knew what it was.

But no one else could.

A Kraken. A monster of legend, one that should have remained deep beneath the ocean, far from the shores of Stormhaven. And yet, it had emerged.

Why?

She had no answer for that yet.

The expedition had been meant to push back the sea beasts that had grown too bold near the eastern trade routes, a routine operation carried out every few years. The plan had been solid, the teams well-prepared. But none of them—none—had expected the abyss to birth such a nightmare.

And now, dozens of adventurers were dead.

The rest? They were shaken, their faith in the guild—and their own strength—teetering on the edge.

Corvina knew the weight of this moment. One wrong move, one poorly handled decision, and the guild's reputation could crumble.

A breath.

A sharp, measured inhale.

And then she moved.

"Guildmaster!" One of her aides, a younger scribe, rushed toward her, a pile of reports clutched in his trembling hands. "We've got the final list of missing and confirmed dead from the expedition. The official numbers…" He hesitated, looking pale.

She snatched the papers from him and skimmed the contents quickly. 'Thirty-two confirmed dead. Seventeen still missing. Twelve critically injured.' Her grip tightened around the parchment.

Too many.

She folded the report with precision and tucked it under her arm. "Make sure the families of the fallen are contacted immediately," she instructed. "And the missing—continue searching. We don't stop until we know."

"Yes, Guildmaster."

-------------A/N------------

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