Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Lira's knuckles tightened around the hilt of her blade, her calm demeanor stretched thin as she faced the man standing across from her. Lucavion. Of all the opponents she could have drawn, he was the one she despised most. A worm who had somehow crawled his way to the semifinals—a feat she could scarcely believe, considering he had no sect, no lineage, no legacy to stand on.

'How does someone like him even make it this far?' she thought with a flicker of disdain. 'A nobody who dares challenge the Cloud Heavens Sect. He's a fool playing at heroics, blind to the fact that his fate was sealed the moment he chose to go against us.'

Her lips curled into a faint sneer as she regarded him, her blade resting lightly at her side. It wasn't worth her time, not really. Lucavion was a blip, a minor inconvenience that would be erased by the end of this match. She could feel the weight of the crowd's eyes, their cheers mixed with the murmurs his earlier accusations had stirred. He was loud, persistent, but ultimately irrelevant.

'A resilient worm, I'll give him that,' she admitted to herself grudgingly as she watched him take his stance. He didn't falter, didn't shrink under the weight of her gaze. No, he came forward with that maddening smirk of his, his estoc gleaming faintly as mana flickered along its edge. He looked almost amused, like this fight was something he'd been waiting for, something he relished.

It only fueled her anger further.

"Still standing, are you?" she said, her voice calm but laced with venom. "I'll admit, you're persistent. But persistence won't save you."

Lucavion tilted his head slightly, his smirk deepening. "Persistence is a good start. It's better than resting on stolen laurels."

Her jaw clenched. She didn't want to engage, didn't want to validate his nonsense with a response. He wasn't worth it. And yet, his words sank under her skin, needling at her composure.

"You talk a lot for someone who has nothing to back it up," she snapped, raising her blade and stepping forward with precision. "Do you think your words will win you this match? Or are you just trying to distract me from the inevitable?"

Lucavion didn't step back. If anything, he closed the gap further, his estoc ready, his posture casual but perfectly balanced. "Oh, the match is inevitable," he said lightly, his voice carrying just enough mockery to send her blood boiling. "But you might not like how it ends."

Lira's gaze hardened as she stared at Lucavion, her grip tightening on her blade. The smirk on his face was insufferable, as though he believed himself her equal. It was laughable, really. In any other circumstance, he wouldn't even be worth her time. He was a worm, the type of man destined to crawl through the dirt until he found himself thrown onto a battlefield to die anonymously. Someone like him? His purpose was clear: to serve, to obey, and ultimately, to be discarded when no longer useful.

'Someone like him should be licking my boots,' she thought with a sneer. 'If I were in a good mood, perhaps I'd indulge him—play with him a little, let him think he mattered. And then I'd toss him aside where he belongs.'

But she wasn't in a good mood. Far from it. This was a waste of her time, a blemish on her day. Lucavion's insolence only worsened her already sour disposition. Who did he think he was? Strong? Capable? The very thought made her want to laugh out loud.

'Just a man,' she thought, her contempt palpable. 'Nothing more, nothing less. His kind exists for one purpose—to serve me and others like me. And here he stands, pretending he's more than that. Pathetic.'

Her blade gleamed in the sunlight as she raised it, her movements sharp and deliberate. If Lucavion thought he could toy with her, he would soon learn otherwise. She shifted her stance, her mana flowing steadily into the weapon. The air around her seemed to hum faintly, charged with the power she channeled. This match didn't deserve the elegance of her finest techniques, but it did deserve an efficient end. She would remind him—and everyone else watching—of her rightful place.

"I've had enough of your arrogance," she said, her voice cold, devoid of the earlier veneer of composure. "Let me show you why worms like you should stay in the dirt."

Lucavion tilted his head slightly, his expression maddeningly calm, as though he were daring her to make the first move. "Oh, please do," he said, his tone light, mocking. "I'm dying to see what the great Silent Thunder can do."

SWOOSH!

Her blood boiled. Without another word, she surged forward, her blade cutting through the air with deadly precision. The strike was swift, aimed directly at his center. He wouldn't have the speed or the strength to block it—not someone like him.

CLANK!

But then, to her annoyance, he moved. His estoc flicked up to meet her blade, the clash of steel ringing out as he deflected her strike. The force of the impact rippled through her arms, and for a moment, she felt the resistance of someone who didn't plan to crumble so easily.

Her eyes narrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line. He was still standing, still smirking, and that infuriating confidence hadn't wavered.

'Fine,' she thought, her movements growing sharper, more aggressive as she launched another flurry of strikes. 'I'll break him piece by piece. Let's see how long that smirk lasts.'

Lira took a deep breath, steadying herself as she let her mana flow through her veins, saturating her blade with its power. The air around her grew heavier, charged with the energy she wielded. Her robes fluttered in the unseen current, and the faint scent of ozone hung in the air. She was ready to end this, and she would do it on her terms.

'Enough playing,' she thought, the disdain she held for Lucavion sharpening her focus. 'I don't need poison to beat a worm like him.'

She knew the poison coursing through his system would act soon—it was subtle, undetectable in the heat of battle, but she could sense the faint tremors in his movements, the slight tension in his muscles as his body began to falter. But she didn't want the victory tainted. No, she wanted to crush him outright, to prove her superiority without question.

Her stance shifted, her blade rising as she prepared to unleash one of the most renowned techniques of the Cloud Heavens Sect: Blossoming Tempest Steps. The technique was a whirlwind of power and precision, its strikes enhanced by the wind mana swirling around her, forming razor-sharp currents that could cut through even the most steadfast defenses.

With a single step, she vanished, her speed amplified by the wind mana coursing through her body. In an instant, she was upon him, her blade flashing toward his shoulder in the first of three calculated strikes. The crowd gasped, the air electrified by the sheer force of her movement.

But then, Lucavion moved.

His estoc flicked upward with startling precision, deflecting her strike with what seemed like effortless ease. The clang of steel meeting steel echoed through the arena, and her momentum was disrupted.

'What—?!'

She adjusted instantly, pivoting into her second strike—a low sweep aimed at his side, designed to follow the deflection and leave no room for recovery. Yet, once again, his blade intercepted hers, his movements smooth and calculated. The force of his parry sent her blade off course, and she felt the mana around her waver.

Her frustration mounted as she launched into the third strike, an overhead slash with all the power of her wind-infused blade behind it. This was the strike meant to overwhelm, to end. But as her blade descended, Lucavion stepped lightly to the side, his estoc tilting just enough to redirect her strike into empty air. The crowd gasped again, their cheers now mixed with disbelief.

'Impossible,' Lira thought, her heart pounding in her chest. 'He's deflecting them as if he knew each move in advance!'

But she wasn't done. The true brilliance of Blossoming Tempest Steps lay not in the visible strikes, but in the hidden one—a final blow formed by the wind mana lingering around her blade, unleashed as a sudden burst when the third strike landed or was deflected. It was an attack that struck from an unpredictable angle, a blow few could see coming, let alone counter.

The wind coalesced around her, the mana spiraling outward like an invisible blade aimed directly at Lucavion's exposed flank. Victory was a breath away.

And then, to her utter shock, the wind dissipated. The hidden strike dispersed before it could reach him, unraveling as if it had been snuffed out by an unseen force. Lucavion remained standing, untouched, his stance as calm as it had been at the start.

Lira's breath caught, her blade trembling slightly in her grasp. The crowd erupted into chaos, their voices a mixture of awe and confusion. How had he done it? How had this nobody, this unaffiliated worm, deflected her strikes and nullified her hidden technique?

Lucavion tilted his head, his smirk still firmly in place. "That was... dramatic," he said, his tone laced with mockery. "I hope that wasn't your best, Silent Thunder. Because if it was..." He raised his estoc slightly, the tip gleaming faintly with his own mana. "This is going to be disappointing."

Lira gritted her teeth, her grip tightening on her blade. Her frustration boiled beneath her skin, but she forced herself to remain composed. She wouldn't let him rattle her. She couldn't.

'Fine,' she thought, her resolve hardening. 'If the first strike doesn't work, I'll cut him down with the next.'

But deep within her, doubt began to creep, whispering questions she wasn't yet ready to face.