Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

The weight of leadership was a heavy thing, and tonight, Corvina could feel it pressing against her shoulders more than ever.

Sitting behind her desk in the guild's administrative chambers, she leaned back slightly, rubbing her temple as she studied the financial breakdown before her. The Duchy's compensation had arrived—an undeniably hefty sum, as expected—but gold alone wasn't enough to soothe the tempers of those who had lost comrades.

'A calculated move, as always.'

The Dukedom had been quick to send the funds, ensuring that, at least on paper, their obligations were met. They wanted to control the damage before it spiraled further. But no amount of gold could erase the bitter taste of failure that lingered in the hearts of the adventurers.

And, of course, they wouldn't bring their demands to the Duke himself.

No.

That task fell squarely on her.

The guild was the formal representative of the adventurers, the one organization with the authority to speak on their behalf. And so, the anger that should have been directed toward the Duchy had instead found a home here, inside the walls of her guild.

Corvina exhaled slowly, her fingers tapping against the edge of her desk.

'Annoying, but predictable.'

She had already drafted responses to the Duchy, reinforcing the need for additional compensations—not just for the families of the fallen, but for future expedition incentives, hazard pay, and resource recovery. The gold they had sent was substantial, yes, but it would not be enough to fix this. The Duke needed to understand that.

And if he didn't?

Well.

She would make him understand.

Just as she was considering the next move in this increasingly delicate political dance, a familiar sound drifted through the hallways.

Raised voices.

Not unusual in times like these, but something about the tone made Corvina pause.

She didn't rise—not yet.

Instead, she tilted her head, listening.

Through the heavy oak doors of her office, she could hear the murmurs of the guild's reception area. The anger wasn't directed at her—at least, not directly. Instead, her receptionists were bearing the brunt of it.

A storm was brewing.

And she had no intention of stepping into it just yet.

Instead, she remained seated, allowing herself a brief moment to listen.

"…This is unacceptable!" a voice barked, rough with frustration.

"We risked everything, and what do we get? Some measly compensation?" another spat.

"This was the Duchy's operation! They should be the ones standing here, answering for what happened!"

"And yet, where are they? Safe behind their damn walls while we're the ones burying our own!"

Corvina's lips pressed into a thin line. 'Of course. This was inevitable.'

The expedition had failed, and people wanted someone to blame.

She knew better than anyone that actual accountability in matters like this was a rare thing. The Duchy would never admit fault—not openly. That was why they had sent her gold instead of an apology.

Gold was easy.

Responsibility? That was a different matter entirely.

Her receptionists, however, had no such luxury.

"Please, sir," one of the clerks said, her voice trying to remain level despite the pressure. "I understand your frustrations, but the guild—"

"The guild should be doing more!" the man interrupted. "You're the ones who speak for us, aren't you? Or are we just expendable to you, same as we are to the damn nobility?"

Another voice, slightly calmer but no less bitter, cut in. "You knew, didn't you?"

A heavy pause followed.

Corvina's eyes sharpened. 'Knew what, exactly?'

One of the receptionists hesitated—an instant of silence, but it was enough.

"You did." The first adventurer's voice lowered into something almost dangerous. "You knew something was wrong. You knew this wasn't just a normal expedition."

Corvina exhaled slowly, the weight of the conversation pressing against her like an invisible force. She tapped a single finger against the desk in thought.

This wasn't true.

No one had known about the Kraken. Not the guild. Not the Duchy. Not even the adventurers who had ventured into those cursed waters. The expedition had been routine—predictable. Until, suddenly, it wasn't. Until the impossible happened, and a nightmare from the depths tore everything apart.

But the truth hardly mattered now, did it?

People weren't looking for facts. They were looking for someone to blame.

She couldn't control what rumors they whispered in the dark corners of the guild, nor could she undo the paranoia that had begun to spread like rot through Stormhaven. What she could do, however, was keep this from spiraling out of control.

'Let them rage. Let them shout. It changes nothing.'

Her mind drifted to another matter—one that had been gnawing at the back of her mind for days.

The Duke's daughter.

Why had she even been there?

It was an absurd decision—reckless, unfathomable. Corvina had pored over the reports, searching for some justification, but there was nothing that made sense.

"Why would someone send their sick daughter to such a place? I really can't comprehend," she murmured to herself, resting her chin against her knuckles.

The official explanation from the Duchy had been vague at best. Something about "recreational travel" and "overseeing minor matters related to trade." A laughable excuse. Corvina knew how noble families functioned, and no one sent a fragile heir into a volatile region without reason.

'Unless, of course, they wanted her gone.'

She didn't like that thought. It was too conspiratorial, too grim. But the moment it had entered her mind, she couldn't shake it.

And yet, as incomprehensible as the situation was, the outcome was even stranger.

She had received the news just a few hours ago—privately, through secure channels.

The Duke's daughter had been rescued.

Alive.

That fact alone should have brought relief, but instead, it only unsettled her further.

Because no one else had come back.

None of the adventurers who had been swallowed by those vortexes had resurfaced. No bodies had been recovered. No messages, no survivors, no traces. It was as if the ocean itself had erased them.

The fact that the Duke's daughter had survived and returned meant something crucial—something that sent a shiver down Corvina's spine.

It meant the opportunity to escape had existed.

The others—the adventurers who had been caught in those abyssal vortexes—hadn't been outright erased. They had a chance to make it back.

And yet, none of them had.

Why?

Had they fought to the last moment, struggling against the pull of the sea, only to fail? Had they been separated, scattered across whatever lay beyond those swirling maws? Had some of them—had one of them—come close to escaping, only to fall just short?

Or—Corvina clenched her fingers into a fist—was there something else at play?

Was there a reason only the Duke's daughter had made it back?

A coincidence?

Or a choice?

The thought disturbed her. Even if this is just an assumption, the implications are unsettling.

She let out a slow breath, trying to untangle the knots in her mind. But instead of clarity, her thoughts led her somewhere else.

To someone else.

A certain young man.

Lucavion.

Or, as most in Stormhaven knew him, Luca.

Her fingers paused against the surface of the desk, and for the first time in days, uncertainty slipped through her carefully crafted mask of composure.

"…What happened to you?" she murmured, almost to herself.

She had not forgotten him.

After all, how could she?

Lucavion had carved his name into the adventurers' psyche with terrifying ease. The stories of his strength, his composure, his sharp tongue, and sharper blade had spread like wildfire in the short time he had been in the city.

He was no ordinary adventurer. That much had been obvious from the start.

And yet—

He, too, had been swallowed by the vortex.

She tapped her finger against the desk again, an uncharacteristic display of unease slipping through her usual control. 'It doesn't make sense.'

By all accounts, Lucavion had been one of the most capable fighters in the expedition. He had even fought the Kraken itself.

There had been rumors—adventurers whispering in hushed voices about how he had stood his ground when the behemoth had risen from the depths.

How he had cut into it.

A D-rank adventurer had done something not even the strongest among them had dared attempt.

And now?

Gone. Vanished.

No body, no message, nothing.

Just like the others.

And yet, the guild had been getting—pressure.

The Duchy had sent repeated, pointed inquiries about a certain adventurer.

About Luca.

Corvina exhaled slowly, her grip tightening.

She had deflected them as long as she could. Given vague answers. Stalled. But the pressure was mounting.

And she couldn't hide the truth forever.

Because the truth was this:

Luca did not exist.

Not truly. Not in the way the Duchy thought he did.

Lucavion was real. But Luca?

Luca was a name of convenience. A forged identity, woven together with just enough subtlety to pass through the guild's records without raising suspicion—until now.

They must have known something was amiss from the beginning, Corvina thought. But they're only pressing now because he's missing.

Why?

Who was he, to them?

Had someone recognized him? Had his actions drawn too much attention?

Corvina sighed and leaned back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling for a moment.

'You really are a troublesome one, Luca.'

The question lingered in the air, an itch in the back of her mind that refused to fade.

Where are you?

Corvina had barely settled into the thought, the question forming in the depths of her mind—Where are you?—when the air in the guild hall shifted.

A subtle ripple in the noise. A moment of tension that only someone as attuned to the atmosphere as she was would notice.

Then, a voice.

"I am here to meet with Guild Master Corvina."