Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Korvan charged, flames spiraling wildly around him, his body consumed by the reckless power of his Berserk Flame. The ground trembled beneath his feet, the heat searing the air as the inferno closed in. Yet, as I stood there, calm and steady, watching the man before me, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of finality.

Normally, anyone in my position would have tried to escape, to avoid the suicidal charge of someone who had broken through the threshold of a 4-star warrior. The sheer force Korvan was releasing was nothing short of monstrous—he was a man who had pushed himself beyond his limits. But I didn't flinch, didn't waver.

I saw him for what he truly was.

"How sad," I murmured, my voice barely audible beneath the roar of flames. I watched him rush toward me, a storm of rage and destruction, but all I saw was pathetic.

Korvan, a man who had lived his life as an outlaw. He had broken countless laws, slaughtered the innocent, taken what wasn't his, and destroyed lives without a second thought. A man who had reveled in the misery of others, who had taken pride in his brutality. He wasn't just a bandit—he was a blight on the world. Someone who had brought nothing but suffering to those around him.

And yet, at this moment, as his body was consumed by flames of his own making, he was nothing more than a broken creature. A man too desperate to admit defeat. Too far gone to realize he had already lost.

But still… he had served his purpose.

It was through this battle, through his relentless, savage nature, that I had come to understand the meaning behind Harlan's and my master's words. The importance of balance. The mastery of the beast within. Korvan, this man who had killed and destroyed, had unknowingly become my teacher. He had forced me to find the harmony between power and control, between life and death.

He had pushed me to the edge, and because of that, I had grown.

He was nothing but a stepping stone.

I tightened my grip on my estoc, feeling the weight of the blade settle comfortably in my hand. The black flames of the Flame of Equinox swirled around me, cold and controlled, as I faced Korvan's fiery charge. His power was immense, his flames scorching, but they no longer frightened me.

He had chosen a path of destruction, one that could only lead to his own undoing. I, on the other hand, had chosen a path of balance, of mastery.

Korvan's face was twisted with fury, his eyes wide with madness, as he closed in on me. But to me, he was already defeated. His fate was sealed the moment he chose to forsake control, to let his power consume him.

"You don't deserve sympathy," I whispered to myself, my voice steady. "But you've served your purpose."

Korvan's berserk form rushed at me with terrifying speed, his spear aimed right for my right abdomen. The flames around his weapon burned intensely, wild and untamed, but I could see through his movements now. His rage had clouded his judgment, and in his desperation, his attacks had become predictable.

The first strike came fast, but I was faster. My estoc moved with precision, deflecting his spear just as it was about to pierce my side. I twisted my blade, redirecting the force of his attack downward, driving the tip of his spear into the ground.

His face twisted in fury, but before he could pull his weapon free, I felt the heat of his flames surge again. From behind him, several javelins of fire materialized, each one blazing with dangerous intent as they shot toward me.

I didn't flinch. The black flames of the Flame of Equinox swirled around me, absorbing the incoming fire like a black hole devouring light. The javelins fizzled out, their heat no match for the cold balance of my flames.

But Korvan, lost in his berserk state, wasn't finished. With a snarl, he ripped his spear from the ground and swung it in a wide, diagonal arc, flames dancing wildly along the weapon. His eyes were filled with nothing but rage now, his mind fully consumed by the destructive power he had unleashed.

He appeared before me in an instant, his spear raised for another strike. But I could see it all—the way his muscles tensed, the angle of his body, the wild energy that flared around him. In that split second, my mind simulated his next three moves with perfect clarity.

'First strike, aimed high. Second, sweeping low. Third, a stab to my center.'

It was like playing a game of chess, every move laid out before me, and I adjusted my stance accordingly.

The first strike came down, fast and deadly, but I was already in motion. My estoc met his spear with a sharp clang, deflecting the blow with ease. Before he could recover, I shifted my weight, stepping to the side just as his second sweep cut through the air, missing me entirely.

Then came the third strike—a brutal, direct thrust aimed at my center. I twisted my body, my estoc sliding along the length of his spear, guiding it away from its target.

Korvan let out a frustrated roar, his berserk flames flaring wildly, but I was already moving. With a quick surge of mana to my leg, I struck.

–THUD!

My foot connected with his chest, the force of the blow sending him staggering backward. His grip on his spear faltered for just a moment, but that was all the opening I needed.

I took my stance, my right arm pulling back to my side. The Flame of Equinox pulsed through me, cold and deadly, as I settled into the Wing Stance. My body felt weightless, perfectly aligned with my weapon, as if the estoc was an extension of myself.

This would be the final strike.

The black flames around me flared, wrapping around my blade, and at that moment, I could feel everything—the balance between life and death, the harmony between power and precision. Korvan's wild flames were nothing compared to the control I had found.

「Annihilation Sword. Last Breath.」

With a single, fluid motion, I moved.

My estoc cut through the air like a phantom, swift and silent. The black flame surged forward, cold and unstoppable, as my blade found its mark. I saw the shock in Korvan's eyes as my estoc pierced through his chest, the black flames devouring the last remnants of his berserk power.

For a moment, the world seemed to freeze. Korvan stood there, his body trembling, his eyes wide with disbelief. The wild flames around him flickered, then faded entirely, snuffed out by the cold embrace of the Flame of Equinox.

"Kurghk-!"

His gaze slowly lifted, locking onto me. His eyes, filled with confusion and pain, searched for an answer—any answer.

"How…?" he rasped, his voice barely audible, strained. "How… could this happen?"

I stood over him, my estoc still glowing faintly with the black flames, the cold energy of life and death swirling quietly around me. For a moment, I didn't say anything. There was nothing to say. The battle was over, and Korvan was living his final moments. His berserk energy, the wild power he had unleashed, had consumed him, and yet it hadn't been enough.

Korvan's body shuddered as he tried to stand, his legs giving out beneath him. Blood poured freely from the hole in his chest, staining his hands and his armor. His eyes, wide and frantic, fixed on me again.

"How…?" he repeated, his voice growing weaker. "Even after… I used the Berserk Flame… Even after I… pushed my core… How can you defeat me? Even a 4-star warrior would struggle…"

His words trailed off, and I could see the disbelief etched into his face. He couldn't comprehend it. In his mind, his power, his rage, his destructive nature should have been enough to crush me, to break me. He had become something beyond human, or so he thought.

I remained silent for a moment longer, watching as the last remnants of his strength slipped away. His breathing was labored, each breath shallower than the last, as his body struggled to keep going. I could see it—the dawning realization in his eyes that his life was slipping away, and there was no power left to save him.

Finally, I spoke, my voice low and calm.

"Power that controls you is nothing but a weakness."

The words hung in the air, soft but firm, as I watched the life drain from Korvan's eyes. His once-imposing figure now lay crumpled before me, the wild flames that had raged around him now nothing more than flickering embers. His strength, his fury, his destructive nature—all of it had failed him in the end.

This was the truth I had come to understand.

The beast inside me—the raw, untamed power that I had felt from the moment I first touched the blade—was real. It was a force that had driven me forward in the darkest moments, when survival seemed impossible. It had pushed me to break through my limits, to fight when I had nothing left. It was the primal instinct that all warriors knew, the deep-seated hunger for battle, for victory.

But that power, as strong as it was, was also a double-edged sword. Left unchecked, it consumed. It turned even the mightiest into nothing more than tools of destruction, mindless forces of chaos. Korvan had given in to that beast, believing that raw power alone would bring him victory. But in the end, it had been his downfall.

What made the difference in this fight—what had allowed me to stand victorious—was the understanding that the beast, while powerful, could not be allowed to control me. I had to master it, not be consumed by it. That was the balance I had found in the midst of the battle. The harmony between power and control, between destruction and restraint.

Korvan had failed to see that. He had given everything to the fire of his berserk flame, hoping it would carry him through. But power without direction was nothing but chaos. He had unleashed everything he had, only to watch it slip through his fingers, unable to harness the very force he had relied on.

The realization settled over me like a quiet calm. The feeling of bloodlust, of reckless abandon—it was still there, but now I understood its place. I wouldn't deny it, nor would I let it rule me. It was a tool, just like my sword, and it was up to me to wield it with precision, not desperation.

Korvan's body lay still now, his face frozen in disbelief. He had never understood what true power meant. He had thought it was in raw strength, in overwhelming force. But power was more than that. It was the mastery of oneself, the ability to direct that strength with purpose and clarity.

That was it.

The difference between us wasn't just in skill or strength—it was in understanding. Korvan had fought as a man desperate to win at any cost, while I had fought as a swordsman who knew his limits, who had found the balance between power and precision.

In the end, it wasn't just about defeating him. It was about mastering the battle within myself.

THIS CHAPTER UPLOAD FIRST AT NOVELBIN.COM