Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Elara stood at the docks, the sea breeze tugging gently at her golden hair as she scanned the bustling scene around her. Despite the chatter of the crew, the steady rhythm of boots against wood, and the occasional barked orders from nearby officers, her focus drifted inward.

'This is it,' she thought, her grip tightening slightly around the staff in her hands. Her palms felt clammy despite the cool air. 'The first real battle. No controlled training grounds, no mentors watching from the sidelines. Just me, my magic, and…' She glanced around at the gathered adventurers and mercenaries, her gaze lingering on the hardened faces and weathered gear. 'These people.'

It was impossible not to notice how strong they looked. Every movement they made, from adjusting their weapons to the way they carried themselves, spoke of experience—battles fought and survived. They weren't just here for glory; they were here because they knew how to survive in places where others wouldn't.

Her eyes fell on a man clad in blackened armor, the heavy plates dark as storm clouds and marked with scars that told their own stories. He stood near the edge of the docks, his massive axe resting casually against his shoulder. Though he wasn't speaking, his presence seemed to fill the space around him, like a thunderhead ready to break.

'He's… powerful,' Elara thought, a faint shiver running through her. 'I can feel it, even from here. That kind of confidence doesn't come from bravado. He knows what he's capable of.' She quickly averted her gaze, not wanting to draw his attention. 'And I'm not sure I want to know what that is.'

Her attention shifted to a woman standing nearby, twin blades crossed at her back. Her movements were precise, and calculated, each step deliberate as she spoke in low tones to another mercenary. The sunlight glinted off her weapons, and the sharpness of her eyes, as they scanned the crowd, made Elara's stomach twist with unease.

'Her, too,' Elara mused, swallowing the lump in her throat. 'She's not just strong—she's focused. Dangerous. Like she's always one step ahead of everyone else.'

Of course, that was mostly her glazing, but for a mage trainee like her who was doing this for the first time, her perception of reality was quite different.

She let out a slow breath, steadying herself against the rising tide of nerves. The sheer strength of the adventurers and mercenaries around her was undeniable, but it was also undeniable that she had her own strengths.

'Nervous or not, I'm ready,' she thought, gripping her staff with firm resolve. 'I've trained for this, worked for this. I've studied spells until my hands shook from overuse and listened to every word my master said as if it were sacred.' She straightened her back, letting the weight of those lessons fill her with confidence. 'Master always told me to trust in my abilities, no matter how daunting the task. And I will.'

Her gaze flicked to Cedric, who was overseeing the loading of supplies nearby. The steady presence of her knight, a rock in every storm they had faced together, brought a faint smile to her lips. 'Cedric's been by my side through everything. If anyone can be trusted to hold the line, it's him.'

She glanced down at her staff, the polished wood cool against her fingers. It was more than a weapon—it was a symbol of her master's trust in her abilities. Her master's teachings were etched into her every movement, every spell she cast. 'I've faced difficulties before, and I've overcome them. This is just one more step forward. I can do this.'

A sense of calm began to settle over her, smoothing the jagged edges of her nerves. The weight of doubt lightened as she planted her feet more firmly on the docks.

And then her gaze shifted, almost involuntarily, drawn to a figure standing not too far away.

'Luca, was it?' she thought, the name coming unbidden to her mind. The young man stood with a casual confidence, his coat swaying lightly in the sea breeze. His posture was relaxed, his expression unreadable, but there was something about him that snagged her attention and refused to let go.

Her brow furrowed slightly as she studied him, trying to decipher the strange feeling stirring within her. There was nothing remarkable about his appearance. His face was… normal. Not particularly handsome, not unattractive—just ordinary. Even the scar running diagonally across his eye, while distinct, wasn't enough to stand out in a place like this, filled with battle-worn veterans and hardened warriors.

'Why does he feel so… familiar?' she wondered, tilting her head slightly. 'I've never met anyone with a scar like that, nor do I remember someone with those features. And yet…'

The sensation wasn't one of recognition exactly, but it was close—like trying to recall a dream that lingered just out of reach. The harder she tried to place him, the more elusive the feeling became. Her thoughts tangled, looping back on themselves with no clear answer.

'It doesn't make any sense,' she admitted to herself. 'He's just… normal. Not the kind of person I'd remember.'

Yet, her gaze lingered, her curiosity refusing to dissipate. There was something undeniably odd about the pull she felt toward him, as though her instincts were trying to tell her something her mind couldn't grasp.

She wasn't one to question her instincts lightly—after all, they had been her guiding star more than once. Whether in sparring matches, navigating difficult decisions, or surviving challenges she'd thought beyond her ability, her instincts had never led her astray.

'They've brought me this far,' she thought, her fingers brushing the smooth surface of her staff. 'And if they're telling me to pay attention to him, there must be a reason.'

Still, the reason eluded her. Luca didn't carry himself like the other adventurers and mercenaries. His confidence wasn't loud or ostentatious; it was quiet, understated, the kind that seemed to hum just beneath the surface. He wasn't the type to draw attention, and yet, here she was—unable to look away for long.

'I wonder how strong he is,' she mused, the thought forming almost unbidden. Her lips pressed together as she tried to weigh the possibility. 'Is he really exceptional, or am I making a mistake?'

The question lingered, unanswered but insistent. Her instincts didn't often misfire, and that made her all the more curious. She tilted her head slightly, studying him from a distance. His stance was relaxed, almost lazy, but there was a tension in the way he moved—a coiled readiness that belied his casual demeanor.

'There's something there,' she thought, her brows furrowing. 'I can feel it. He's hiding something. Strength, maybe? Or… something else?'

Her thoughts raced as she watched him. Luca's sharp eyes flicked over the crowd with a detached ease, as if he were cataloging the strengths and weaknesses of everyone around him. His movements were deliberate, yet unhurried, like someone who had no reason to rush—or worry.

'Just weird….'

He was just weird.

"Lady Elara?"

Hearing Cedric's voice, she came to herself.

"Are you listening?"

Seeing him looking at her like that, she just averted her gaze a little.

'Well, let's stop it Elara. This is not the time to be wondering about useless things.'

"I was distracted a little bit."

Cedric's gaze lingered on her for a moment, his expression unreadable. The steady hum of activity around them seemed to fade as he studied her, the weight of his silence pressing against her thoughts.

Finally, he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing slightly as they landed on the young man named Luca. There was no mistaking the faint flicker of suspicion in his expression as he took in Luca's casual posture and sharp, assessing gaze.

"Be careful about him," Cedric said quietly, his tone firm but low enough that only Elara could hear. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword, an instinctive gesture of readiness. "I don't have a good feeling about him."

Elara blinked, caught off guard by the comment. "Luca?" she asked, her voice soft but incredulous. "Why?"

Cedric's eyes shifted back to her, his expression darkening just enough to reveal his unease. "I don't know," he admitted, his jaw tightening slightly. "It's just… something about him feels off. The way he carries himself, the way he looks at everyone here. He doesn't feel like the others." His grip on the hilt of his sword tightened for a moment before he let out a measured breath, visibly steadying himself. "He's dangerous. I'm sure of it."

Elara's lips parted slightly in surprise.

"Really?"

Elara frowned slightly, her gaze shifting between Cedric and Luca. "Really?" she repeated, her tone soft but edged with doubt. "I mean… he hasn't done anything wrong. He doesn't seem like a bad person."

Cedric's expression didn't waver. If anything, his unease deepened. "That's exactly why you should be cautious," he said, his voice low and firm.

Elara let out a quiet sigh, her brows knitting together. "I don't know, Cedric. That man in the black armor with the axe? Or the woman with the twin swords? They feel more dangerous to me. At least their power is obvious."

Cedric shook his head, his grip tightening briefly on the hilt of his sword. "That's exactly the point. You can see what they are, clear as day. You can prepare for someone like that. But him?" He gestured subtly toward Luca without taking his eyes off Elara. "He's different. He's hiding something, and that makes him more dangerous."

Elara glanced back at Luca, watching as he adjusted his coat and shifted his weight, still relaxed and unconcerned.

"If you say so."

And then she nodded. Continue your adventure with empire

Just then the captain entered the docks.

"Get ready! We are sailing."

It was the time to fight.

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

Tomorrow I will have my first final exam of the semester.

Wish me luck, because I feel like I will need it.