Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

The tension on the deck was broken by the heavy creak of armored boots against the wooden planks. Heads turned as a tall, imposing man stepped into view, his mere presence commanding silence. His armor bore the insignia of the Thaddeus Family—a golden trident crossed with a sword—emblazoned prominently on the breastplate. It gleamed with a practiced shine, though faint scars etched into the metal hinted at battles past. His face, much like his armor, carried the marks of experience—stern, cold, and lined with faint reminders of the dangers he had faced.

"Attention," the man called out, his voice cutting through the murmurs like a blade. It wasn't loud, but it carried a weight that left no room for disobedience.

The crew and gathered adventurers straightened instinctively. Even the seasoned mercenaries paused in their conversations, their gazes snapping toward the new arrival.

"I am Captain Eryndor Vale," he began, his tone measured but firm. "I will be leading the fourth station's forces for this operation. Our mission is simple but not without peril. The monsters infesting the sea trading routes threaten the Duchy's commerce and stability. It is our duty to eradicate this threat and defend the city from the coming waves."

He paused, his eyes scanning the crowd. Lucavion caught the subtle flicker of appraisal in those cold eyes as they swept over the assembled warriors. It wasn't unlike the way Lucavion himself had assessed the crowd earlier—a search for weakness, strength, and potential.

Eryndor continued, his voice steady. "As you have been briefed, our mages will construct stable platforms on the water's surface. These platforms will serve as our battlegrounds. They will allow us to engage the monsters on equal footing while minimizing the risk of capsizing our vessels. The city's defense will rely heavily on your coordination and discipline."

A murmur rippled through the crowd, though none dared interrupt outright. The captain's demeanor left little room for frivolity.

One adventurer, younger than most and clearly new to this level of danger, raised his hand hesitantly. "Captain… how are we supposed to make the monsters come to us? Aren't they just… out there in the sea? Won't they avoid us if we're standing on these platforms?"

Captain Eryndor's cold gaze fixed on the man, and for a moment, silence stretched unbearably. Then, with a faint, humorless smirk, he replied.

"You misunderstand your role here," he said, his tone cutting. "The monsters will come to you because you are their bait. That is what it means to be an adventurer, a soldier, or a mercenary in the service of the Duchy. You signed on for this. You knew the risks."

The bluntness of his words sent a ripple of unease through the adventurers, though none could argue with the truth of them. The young man who had spoken seemed to shrink slightly, his question dissipating under the weight of the captain's answer.

Eryndor's gaze swept the deck once more, his voice rising slightly to recapture the room. "Every one of you was chosen for this mission because of your skill, your experience, and your willingness to face the unknown. This is not a simple hunt—it is a battle for survival and prosperity. If any among you doubts your resolve, I suggest you leave now."

No one moved.

Satisfied, the captain nodded sharply. "Good. We will set sail in one hour. Let's first talk about our formation."

Captain Eryndor's gaze lingered on the silent crowd for a moment longer before he continued. "Since this is a quickly assembled team, it would be foolish to expect you to function as a fully trained unit. That said, I will provide a basic overview of the formation. Coordination is optional—survival is not."

He gestured to a map pinned to a board near the center of the deck. The crude diagram depicted the positions of the platforms that would be created by the mages and the ships that would act as bases for support and resupply.

"There are three mages assigned to this station. Given their limited number, they will be evenly distributed across the formation to ensure stability. Each platform will serve as a focal point for battle, and the fighters will be responsible for holding the monsters at bay while the mages maintain the constructs. Do not let the platforms collapse. If they do, you will be swimming in a sea filled with creatures eager to drag you under."

The adventurers and mercenaries exchanged uneasy glances but remained silent.

"Fighters will be assigned to positions based on their apparent capabilities and preferences. Those who wish to work together as a unit, speak up now." His sharp eyes scanned the group, waiting.

A handful of mercenary groups stepped forward, their leaders quietly discussing arrangements with the captain. Eryndor nodded as he made swift decisions, assigning these groups to positions where their cohesion would prove most effective. His efficiency left no room for argument.

"For the rest of you," he said, turning his attention back to the crowd, "your roles will be assigned based on observed skill and ranking. Once the platforms are deployed, follow the guidelines provided, but ultimately, fight to survive."

He gestured to one of his aides, who handed him a list. Eryndor began calling names and assigning positions, his voice carrying clearly over the deck.

Finally, he reached Lucavion. "Luca," he said, his tone neutral as he read the name from the list. "You're D-rank, so I'll place you toward the center of the formation. You'll have support from both flanks, and you'll be close enough to the ship to resupply if needed." Read new chapters at empire

Lucavion inclined his head, his smirk faint as he responded. "Understood, Captain."

Eryndor's gaze lingered on him briefly, as if weighing his response, before he moved on to the next name.

[Middle of the formation?] Vitaliara remarked with a soft hum. [That's quite strategic. They want you close enough to pull your weight but not so far out that you'll be overwhelmed.]

'Or perhaps they just don't trust the "D-rank adventurer" to handle anything more critical,' Lucavion replied inwardly, his smirk deepening.

[Maybe.] Vitaliara's voice carried a note of amusement. [But we both know ranks don't tell the whole story, do they?]

'Exactly.' Lucavion's gaze shifted to the others assigned near him, noting their equipment, stances, and auras. Each one seemed competent, though none stood out as particularly exceptional. Good enough to hold their own, but not enough to cause problems.

Captain Eryndor's eyes shifted toward the trio of mages standing slightly apart from the rest of the group. Their presence was subdued but vital, the faint hum of mana surrounding them like an invisible veil. He studied them briefly, his sharp gaze lingering on each in turn before he began assigning their positions.

"Mage Tarian," he said, addressing a stocky man with a dark cloak draped over his shoulders. The man looked up, his expression calm but focused. "You'll be stationed at clock nine. Hold the western flank steady."

Tarian gave a firm nod, adjusting the intricate staff he carried. "Understood, Captain."

"Mage Caldris," Eryndor continued, turning to the next figure. This one was a thin, wiry man with sharp features and robes adorned with faintly glowing runes. "You'll take the middle—clock twelve."

Caldris inclined his head, his expression betraying no emotion. "I'll see it done."

Finally, Eryndor's gaze settled on the blonde woman who had drawn Lucavion's attention earlier. Her blue eyes met the captain's, a flicker of nervousness visible despite her composed demeanor.

"Mage Elara," Eryndor said, his tone softening slightly but still firm. "You'll take the eastern flank—clock three. Since you and Warrior Cedric seem to be acquaintances, I've placed him beside you for additional support."

The woman—Elara—nodded, her golden hair catching the light as she dipped her head in acknowledgment. "Thank you, Captain. I won't let the formation falter."

Beside her, the man identified as Cedric—tall, broad-shouldered, and the one who had glared at Lucavion earlier—straightened slightly at the mention of his name. His expression was stoic, but there was a subtle air of protectiveness about him as he glanced toward Elara.

[Elara,] Vitaliara murmured in Lucavion's mind. [So, she has a name. And a friend, it seems.]

A friend….It appears that someone is looking for being more than a friend.

He thought inwardly.

'A friend with an intense glare.'

[Jealousy, perhaps?] Vitaliara teased, her tone carrying a mischievous lilt.

'Perhaps,' Lucavion replied inwardly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. 'But that's his problem, not mine.'

Elara seemed unaware of the silent exchange between Lucavion and Cedric. Her focus remained on Captain Eryndor, her hands clasped in front of her staff as she steadied herself. Despite the faint nervousness in her demeanor, there was a quiet determination in her eyes—one that spoke of resolve beneath her polished exterior.

"Good," Eryndor said after a brief pause, his tone final. "All of you, remember your positions. Once the platforms are active, communication between stations will be limited. Mages, prioritize stability above all else. Warriors, ensure the mages can focus on their tasks without interruption. Now, prepare yourselves. We set sail shortly."

With his orders given, the captain turned and strode toward the helm, his movements brisk and efficient.

Lucavion leaned back against the railing, his dark eyes drifting toward Elara as she exchanged a few words with Cedric. The man's protective stance didn't escape Lucavion's notice, nor did the subtle way Elara's nervous energy seemed to ease in Cedric's presence.

[Quite the dynamic,] Vitaliara remarked with a playful hum. [Careful, Lucavion. You might end up in the middle of something far messier than this expedition.]

Well, well, well…..Isn't that why we are here?

He thought though he did not say that out loud.