Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

The faintest hints of dawn had yet to touch the sky when Lucavion stirred in his bed. The quiet of the inn surrounded him, the soft creak of wood and the occasional whisper of the wind the only sounds breaking the stillness. It was a routine he had built over the years--waking before the sun before the world came alive. It kept him sharp and focused.

He dressed quickly, pulling on his well-worn training gear, and quietly slipped out of his room. The hallway was empty, the inn still cloaked in the deep silence of night. As he descended the stairs, he didn't bother with a light. His steps were sure, his body already accustomed to the darkness.

Outside, the cool pre-dawn air greeted him. The chill bit at his skin, but it was familiar, invigorating. Without a word, Lucavion began his morning run. His breath came out in steady, controlled puffs as he moved through the empty streets, his body falling into the rhythm he knew so well.

He ran swiftly, his steps light as he passed through the town's outskirts and beyond the walls. His familiar opening lay ahead, a secluded clearing just outside the city, a place he had claimed for himself. As he reached it, Lucavion slowed, his chest rising and falling steadily from the exertion.

Without pause, he drew his estoc. The blade gleamed faintly in the dim light, but there was no time for admiration. His training was about precision, focus, and pushing the limits of his physical and magical abilities.

He moved through his forms, each strike, thrust, and parry deliberate, practiced. The weight of the estoc in his hand was comforting, and its balance was perfect for his style. As the sword danced in his grip, he felt the familiar hum of mana rising within him, his cultivation beginning.

The energy flowed through his body, coiling and gathering at his core. This was more than just physical training--it was the path he had chosen to strengthen his connection to both vitality and death.

Lucavion paused for a moment after sheathing his estoc, taking a deep breath as the first light of dawn spilled across the clearing. His muscles ached a familiar soreness that signaled he had pushed himself enough. Today's training had gone well. The precision of his strikes, the balance between his physical prowess and the flow of mana--it all felt right.

He allowed himself a rare moment of satisfaction, feeling the energy still coiled within him, ready to be called upon when needed.

'Not bad,' he thought to himself, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. He had made progress today, both physically and in his cultivation.

As he stood there, soaking in the morning air, a familiar voice broke the silence.

[Have you finished already?] Vitaliara's voice echoed in his mind, thick with the grogginess of someone who had just woken up. A yawn followed her words, and Lucavion couldn't help but chuckle softly.

"Good morning to you, too," he replied, his tone light. "I've been at it for hours."

[Hours? Hmm...] Vitaliara's voice trailed off as she shifted lazily, still not fully awake. [You know, I could help you train if you ever asked, but you seem to enjoy all the hard work.] She purred softly, almost teasing.

Lucavion shook his head with a small smile. "You know me well enough by now. I prefer to push myself."

[Of course, you do.] She yawned again, her presence warm and comforting as always. [So, what's next? Bath time? You humans and your need for cleanliness...] There was a playful edge to her tone.

Lucavion rolled his shoulders, feeling the tension ease from his muscles. "Yes, bath time. After that, breakfast."

[Enjoy,] she purred, her voice trailing off as she settled back into her usual state of lazy contentment. Vitaliara rarely joined him in his rigorous morning routines, preferring to sleep or lounge nearby while he worked. As a mythical beast, her nature was wild and untamed, and she enjoyed her leisure.

With Vitaliara drifting back into her rest, Lucavion made his way toward the river, the crisp morning air refreshing against his skin. Reaching the edge of the water, he stripped off his training gear, the cold breeze biting at his skin for a moment before he stepped into the river.

The chill of the water was sharp at first, but it invigorated him, washing away the fatigue from his muscles and the sweat from his body. Lucavion let the cold water rush over him, cleansing away the remnants of his morning training. The river was quiet, the soft trickle of water the only sound breaking the dawn.

'I will pretend that I did not see this.'

Well, at the same time, a pair of eyes were looking at him underneath the white fur.

'You act like you don't care, but you always do that?'

He could only sigh at her antics. Though, he did not much care. After all, being his contracted familiar, they were together most of the time, and Vitaliara was a mythical beast.

After he was clean, he allowed himself a brief moment of stillness, watching the light shift across the surface of the water before stepping back onto the bank. He dressed quickly, the day ahead of him already weighing on his mind.

"Time for breakfast," he muttered to himself, casting one last glance at the clearing before making his way back to the inn. The day had only just begun.

Lucavion returned to the inn with the same quiet determination he always carried, the cool morning air still clinging to his skin. As he stepped inside, the familiar warmth of the hearth greeted him once again. The soft crackle of the fire and the low hum of conversation from a few early risers filled the air.

Greta, the innkeeper's daughter, was at the counter. As soon as she saw him, her expression changed--respectful, almost shy, but with that familiar hint of curiosity that she had shown ever since his role in the bandit subjugation became known.

"Good morning, Sir Lucavion," she greeted, her voice soft as she approached him. "Would you like your breakfast now?"

Lucavion gave a small nod, his eyes briefly meeting hers. "Yes, thank you."

Greta offered him a quick, almost bashful smile before hurrying off to prepare his meal. Lucavion took a seat at his usual spot near the hearth, allowing the warmth of the fire to settle into his bones as he waited.

It wasn't long before Greta returned with his breakfast--freshly baked bread, cured meat, and a warm bowl of porridge. She placed it carefully in front of him, her movements delicate. Though she was respectful, Lucavion noticed the way she kept glancing at him from the corner of her eye, quickly looking away whenever he looked back.

He didn't pay much mind to it and began eating, savoring the quiet moment. The food was simple but hearty, perfect for someone who had just finished a rigorous morning of training.

As he was halfway through his meal, the door to the inn suddenly swung open with a heavy creak. The sharp sound caused Greta, who had been cleaning nearby, to flinch. Lucavion looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly as he saw who had entered.

It was Ragna, the Awakened man from the town garrison.

The last time Lucavion had encountered Ragna, the man had been fierce, arrogant, and eager to assert his dominance over others. But now, as Ragna stood in the doorway, he looked different. His demeanor was far more subdued, his shoulders hunched slightly as if weighed down by something. His once fiery gaze had softened, and the air of arrogance he once carried was notably absent.

Ragna's eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on Lucavion, something like unease flickered across his face. He hesitated for a moment before stepping fully inside, his movements slower, more deliberate than before.

Greta quickly moved to the back, clearly not wanting to be near the man, but Lucavion stayed where he was, his gaze calm but watchful as Ragna approached.

"Sir....Lucavion," Ragna said quietly, stopping a few feet away from the table. His tone was much calmer than it had been during their last encounter. "I... I came to speak with you."

Lucavion raised an eyebrow but continued eating, giving Ragna a nod to continue. He could sense that whatever Ragna had to say wasn't the usual bluster he had been known for. This was something different.

"I need to apologize," Ragna said, his voice low but clear. "For how I acted before. I was... wrong to challenge you, to act the way I did."

Lucavion paused for a moment, setting his spoon down as he studied the man before him. "You've changed your tone," he said, his voice measured.

Ragna nodded slowly, a flash of humility crossing his features. "I've had time to think. What you did--helping the town, taking down those bandits--you're not someone to be trifled with. I see that now."

Lucavion leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable as he regarded the man. "What is it that you want, then?"

Ragna hesitated again before speaking. "I want to make amends. I acted foolishly before, and I know that."

Lucavion considered his words carefully, sensing the sincerity in Ragna's tone. This was no longer the same arrogant man he had faced before. Something had shifted.

Lucavion's gaze remained steady on Ragna, his expression calm but with a sharp edge beneath the surface. He wasn't one to let things slide easily, especially when it came to matters that went beyond mere arrogance. The memory of Ragna harassing Greta, abusing his authority over those weaker than him, was still fresh in his mind. An apology wasn't enough--not for that.

"You want to make amends," Lucavion repeated, his voice low and controlled. "But words alone won't change anything." He looked into Ragna, his eyes turning cold.

"You need to pay the price for your actions."

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