Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

The lounge was quiet except for the faint hum of the magical screen displaying the fight. My gaze stayed fixed on the stage, watching as Valeria held her ground against Varen Drakov. She'd come far—much further than I'd expected. Each swing of her Zweihander carried more than strength; it carried resolve, purpose. Her movements had refined, her mana sharper, her determination unshakable even in the face of overwhelming force.

'She's really improved,' I thought, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. Seeing her now, fighting with such clarity, it was hard not to feel… proud. Not that I'd tell her, of course. That would only inflate her already unbearable sense of self-worth.

The fight reached its climax, Varen's fiery blade cleaving through her final technique. The golden aura of her Knight's Sanctuary shattered like glass, her Zweihander clattering to the ground. Yet, even then, she refused to fall. Her legs trembled, her breaths came ragged, but her eyes… those still burned with a fire that refused to die.

When the bell rang, signaling Varen's victory, I leaned back in my chair, arms draped lazily over the sides. My mind lingered on the match as the crowd erupted in cheers.

'She's come so far,' I thought again.

[She really got much stronger, but she's still not strong enough. Humph!]

Her voice echoed in my head, sharp and smug as always, even though I could sense the hint of pride beneath her words. I chuckled softly, shaking my head.

"She may not be strong enough yet," I murmured, leaning forward slightly, "but progress is progress. That much is undeniable." My lips quirked into a faint smile. It wasn't her victory, but it was her moment—a step forward, even if she didn't fully realize it yet.

[Varen defeated her, and yet you sit here looking smug,] Vitaliara's voice chimed into my mind, carrying her usual teasing lilt. [You're far too pleased with yourself for someone whose 'student'—if I can call her that—just lost.]

'Student, huh?' I thought with amusement. 'She'd kill you if she heard that.'

[Would she?] Vitaliara purred, the teasing edge fading as her tone turned serious. [But I wasn't talking about her just now, was I? I meant you, Lucavion. Are you sure about this next match?]

Her words hung in the air, unspoken yet heavy with meaning. I felt her gaze, keen and knowing, as if she could see more than what lay before us. She always did.

"What are you implying?" I said aloud, my tone light but curious, though I already knew where this was heading.

[The Cloud Heavens Sect,] she said, her voice sharp now, almost scolding. [They aren't even bothering to hide their intentions anymore. The drinks they serve, the meals, the snacks… even the air you're breathing right now is laced with poison. Subtle, slow-acting, but poison nonetheless.]

I closed my eyes for a moment, focusing on the faint, bitter undercurrent in the air, the subtle tingle on my skin that had been easy to ignore until now. She wasn't wrong. The very air in the lounge was tainted, though the toxicity wasn't enough to affect me. Yet.

[And there's more,] Vitaliara's voice cut in, her presence sharp in my mind. [There's a poison expert working behind the scenes, spreading it through the ventilation. You think you can just ignore this?]

"I know," I said simply, my tone calm. "But it doesn't matter."

[Doesn't matter?] Vitaliara's voice rose, incredulous. [What do you mean it doesn't matter? This is a direct attempt to—]

"To do exactly what they've been planning all along," I interrupted. "They're desperate. They think they're clever, trying to weaken me before the match. But here's the thing: poisons that affect the average Awakened don't affect me."

I leaned back in my chair, arms resting lazily over the sides as I let my mana circulate through my body. "My meridians aren't like theirs," I continued. "Even if I were affected, I can just circulate my mana and burn the poison out using the [Flame of Equinox]." The familiar flicker of my cultivated energy stirred within me, a steady heat that I could call upon at will.

[Arrogance or confidence?] Vitaliara asked, though her tone carried no real challenge.

"Neither," I replied with a smirk. "It's just the truth. Let them try. It won't change anything."

I let out a quiet breath, my eyes flickering back to the screen one last time. Valeria's fight had concluded, and now, it was my turn. My fight. The one I'd been waiting for since the moment I decided to step into this tournament.

The anticipation that simmered beneath my calm exterior sharpened into focus. This wasn't just about winning. This was about dealing with a certain group of parasites—those who fed off the efforts of the genuine, corrupting everything they touched. The Cloud Heavens Sect had long overstepped, spreading their poison both metaphorically and literally. They were a sickness, and I was here to remind them of what happens when you underestimate the wrong opponent.

As I rose from my chair, the soft hum of the ventilation system above caught my attention again. The faint tang of poison lingered in the air, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it. I rolled my shoulders, letting the [Flame of Equinox] stir within me once more, burning away any trace of the toxin that dared to linger in my system.

'Pathetic,' I thought. 'This is the best they can do?'

With that, I began to make my way toward the preparation room. The hallways were quiet, save for the soft echo of my boots on the polished stone floor. As I moved, I couldn't help but notice the increased presence of guards stationed at every corner. Their armor gleamed under the torches, and their eyes scanned the area with a practiced vigilance.

It seemed the Marquis wasn't taking any chances.

'He's focusing on safety quite well,' I mused. 'Though whether it's to protect the tournament's reputation or something else entirely, I can't say.'

One of the guards gave me a brief nod as I passed, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. I returned it with a slight inclination of my head, my pace never faltering. Despite the apparent protection, I knew better than to place my trust in it. These were just measures to maintain appearances; the true threats weren't the ones marching through the front door.

The preparation room came into view, its heavy wooden door slightly ajar. I pushed it open, stepping inside. The space was stark and simple, with a single bench and a rack for weapons lining the far wall. The hum of anticipation was almost tangible here, the air charged with the weight of what was to come.

I set my estoc on the bench and began adjusting my gloves, the familiar sensation grounding me as I prepared for the match ahead. This wasn't just another fight—it was the culmination of careful planning, patience, and a willingness to act when others wouldn't.

The parasites had thrived long enough. It was time to remind them that not all prey remains docile.

******

The roar of the crowd washed over me as I stepped onto the arena floor, their voices mingling in a cacophony of cheers, jeers, and whispered speculation. The sun hung high in the sky, casting long shadows across the sandy stage. Above me, banners bearing the Ventor family crest fluttered in the breeze, adding a touch of regality to the charged atmosphere.

"Phantom Sword!"

"Sword Demon!"

The cries from the crowd reached my ears, some voices filled with awe, others tinged with fear or disdain. I couldn't help the faint smirk that tugged at my lips. Sword Demon, huh? It had a certain ring to it, I had to admit. It felt cool, fitting in some twisted way, though I had no idea how the title had stuck so quickly during this tournament.

Still, I wasn't here to entertain the whims of the spectators. My eyes scanned the crowd briefly, taking in the faces of the cheering masses before settling on the opposite end of the arena, where Lira Vaelan would soon make her entrance. This wasn't just about defeating an opponent; this was about what she represented—the rot festering within the Cloud Heavens Sect.

I let out a quiet breath, my thoughts slipping into focus as I stood in the center of the arena, the noise around me fading into the background. My gaze swept the stage, but my mind was elsewhere, reflecting on why this moment mattered.

'There are many types of people I despise in this world,' I thought, the faint hum of my mana swirling within me. 'But the worst are the ones who trample on others' efforts while pretending to stand for something greater. Hypocrisy cloaked in virtue—that's what disgusts me most.'

The Cloud Heavens Sect was once something to admire. Founded by a visionary woman Awakened, it had been born from the idea of breaking the chains of inequality. A noble purpose, one that deserved respect and admiration. But like so many things in this world, time had twisted it into something else entirely.

'The sect lost its way,' I mused, my fingers brushing the hilt of my estoc as the crowd's cheers swirled around me. 'Instead of embracing temperance and self-improvement, they took shortcuts. Underhanded means became their creed, and rapid advancements replaced genuine effort. They traded the values they were built on for power, and in doing so, they became slaves to their own desires.'

Freedom. That was the word they liked to throw around, the banner under which they justified their actions. But what they called freedom was nothing more than indulgence—a descent into carnal desires they couldn't control, masked as liberation.

'And they think the world owes them something for it.'

The Cloud Heavens Sect wasn't just a group of opportunists. They were parasites, feeding off the genuine efforts of others while dragging the sect's once-noble name through the mud. It wasn't just disrespectful; it was insulting. Insulting to everyone who had ever struggled to rise on their own merit. Insulting to the ideals their founder had fought for.

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

One chapter only today, I have an exam tomorrow.