Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

The sharp bark of Captain Eryndor's command cut through the bustling docks. "Get ready! We are sailing." Experience tales with empire

The atmosphere shifted instantly, tension snapping taut like a drawn bowstring. The crew sprang into action, casting off lines and adjusting sails with practiced precision. The adventurers, mercenaries, and mages hurried to their positions, their earlier conversations replaced by grim silence. Everyone knew what was coming—the first step into danger.

Lucavion pushed off from the railing and moved toward his designated spot near the middle of the formation. Around him, the organized chaos of departure swirled, a symphony of shouts, creaking wood, and the steady crash of waves against the hull. He inhaled deeply, the salty tang of the sea air filling his lungs. Here we go, he thought, his smirk returning as he adjusted the collar of his coat.

[Excited?] Vitaliara asked, perched lightly on his shoulder, her glowing form shimmering faintly.

'I wouldn't call it excitement,' Lucavion replied inwardly. 'But there's something… invigorating about stepping into chaos.'

The ship lurched gently as it began to move, the sails catching the wind. The crewmembers moved with purpose, their actions fluid and synchronized. As the docks faded into the distance, the open sea stretched before them—vast, glittering, and deceptively serene.

The platforms were conjured as they neared the first area of infestation. The three mages, stationed at clock nine, twelve, and three as directed, channeled their mana into the water. Waves shimmered as glowing symbols etched themselves into the air, forming intricate magical constructs that hovered just above the surface. Slowly, the constructs solidified into stable platforms, their surfaces smooth and unyielding.

Lucavion stood near his assigned position, observing the process with mild interest. Impressive, he admitted inwardly. If nothing else, they've mastered the art of creating a battlefield where none should exist.

The adventurers and mercenaries stepped onto the platforms, their movements cautious at first. Weapons were drawn, shields raised, and spells prepared. The air was thick with anticipation, the tension mounting as the group waited for the inevitable.

A distant rumble echoed across the water, low and guttural. It vibrated through the air, sending ripples across the platforms and drawing every eye to the horizon.

"They're coming," someone muttered, their voice barely above a whisper.

The sea began to churn, waves rising unnaturally as if disturbed by an unseen force. Then, breaking through the water's surface, the first creature appeared—a hulking, grotesque form with scales glinting like tarnished metal. Its elongated body twisted unnaturally, and its maw opened to reveal rows of jagged teeth.

Behind it, more creatures emerged, their numbers growing rapidly until the horizon was dotted with monstrous shapes. The distant rumble became a cacophony of snarls, growls, and the wet slap of bodies surging through the water.

"Hold your positions!" Captain Eryndor's voice rang out, clear and commanding. "Do not break the line!"

Lucavion's smirk widened as he unsheathed his weapon, the blade gleaming faintly in the magical light. The Flame of Equinox flickered to life at its edge, the delicate balance of life and death coiling like a serpent.

[They're here,] Vitaliara murmured, her tone tinged with a mix of wariness and anticipation.

'Good,' Lucavion thought, his gaze fixed on the approaching horde. 'Let's see how much fun this chaos can offer.'

With the first clash imminent, Lucavion adjusted his stance, ready to meet the monsters head-on as the battle began.

********

A smaller ship drifted some distance from the Fourth Station, its sleek hull cutting through the gentle waves with quiet grace. Unlike the six larger vessels stationed at key positions for the expedition, this one was built for mobility rather than combat. Its sails were smaller, its deck more compact, and its crew limited to a select few tasked with ensuring the safety of its singular passenger.

Aeliana stood at the ship's railing, her veiled face turned toward the chaotic battle unfolding in the distance. The wind tugged at her heavy robes, the fabric billowing softly as she gripped the railing with gloved hands. Even from this distance, the clash was a spectacle of movement and sound—flashes of magic, the glint of steel, the guttural roars of the creatures, and the resounding shouts of the expedition teams.

Her heart pounded, the pulse of adrenaline foreign yet intoxicating. For the first time in years, she wasn't confined to the suffocating walls of her chamber or the carefully curated gardens of the estate. Here, on the open sea, with danger in the air and the horizon stretching endlessly before her, she felt something she hadn't in a long time—alive.

"Is everything to your satisfaction, my lady?" Madeleina's voice broke through her thoughts, calm yet laced with subtle concern. The attendant stood a respectful distance behind her, ever-watchful.

Aeliana didn't respond immediately. Her gaze remained fixed on the distant platforms, where Captain Eryndor's team was engaged in combat. The sight was both mesmerizing and unsettling. The monsters were hideous, their forms unnatural and grotesque as they surged toward the platforms. The adventurers and mercenaries moved with precision, their actions coordinated and deliberate, but the sheer number of creatures made it clear this fight would not be an easy one.

"...It's different," Aeliana said finally, her voice muffled by the veil but steady.

"Different, my lady?" Madeleina asked, tilting her head slightly.

"From how they described it," Aeliana replied. "The maids, the books—they always spoke of the sea as something beautiful, something untamed yet magnificent. But this…" She gestured faintly toward the battle. "This is chaos."

Madeleina approached cautiously, her gaze flicking briefly toward the distant clash. "The sea has always been both beautiful and dangerous, my lady. Perhaps this is simply the side you were never shown."

Aeliana's lips pressed into a thin line beneath the veil. She said nothing, her grip tightening on the railing as her eyes darted from one point of the battle to another. She watched as Captain Eryndor's commanding presence kept his team steady, even as waves of monsters crashed against the platforms. His voice carried over the water, sharp and authoritative, ensuring the line didn't falter.

From this distance, she could only observe. She couldn't hear the full weight of their shouts or feel the ground tremble beneath the force of the strikes. But even in this detached state, the raw energy of the battle seeped into her chest, filling the hollow ache that had lingered there for so long.

Madeleina stepped closer, her hands folded neatly in front of her. "The vantage point is secure, my lady," she said gently. "You'll remain safe here. The Duke was insistent."

Aeliana's jaw tightened at the mention of her father. "I know," she said curtly. "I can see that much."

Her gaze swept across the platforms, her focus lingering on the Fourth Station. Captain Eryndor's team was methodical, their formation holding strong despite the relentless onslaught. The monsters fell one after another, their grotesque bodies collapsing into the water in lifeless heaps.

But then, her eyes caught something—a flash of movement, too fast and too erratic to belong to the expedition team. A single figure moved with unnerving precision, their blade glinting in the light as they cut through the chaos with an almost unnatural ease.

'Hmm?'

She didn't know his name, but even from here, she could tell he was different. His movements were calculated yet fluid, his strikes deadly accurate. It was as if he thrived in the chaos, his presence an anomaly.

"Who is that?" she murmured, more to herself than to Madeleina.

Madeleina followed her gaze, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I'm not certain, my lady. Likely one of the mercenaries or adventurers hired for the expedition."

'Interesting.'

Aeliana's eyes narrowed behind the veil as she continued to watch the lone figure. The long blade he wielded flashed intermittently, catching the light—but it wasn't just ordinary light. The faint blackish glow that emanated from the weapon was unlike anything she'd seen before. It wasn't a dull sheen or a reflection of the sun. It was dark, almost shadowy, yet illuminated by subtle, twinkling sparks.

'What is that?' she thought, her brows furrowing. The light felt unnatural, otherworldly—a contradiction in itself. It was dark but radiant, as though it carried the essence of starlight within its depths. Her mind raced, struggling to make sense of it. 'A starlight?'

The term echoed in her thoughts, but even as she considered it, she felt uncertain. Was there even a mana accumulation technique that could produce something like this? She had studied magic in her earlier years, and while her knowledge was incomplete, she had never encountered anything remotely similar. It was as if the blade defied the very principles of mana she understood.

Her gaze shifted back to the young man. He moved with unnerving precision, cutting through the chaos as though it were a carefully choreographed dance. Each strike of his blade was deliberate, each movement calculated to exploit the monsters' weaknesses. Their grotesque forms crumbled beneath his onslaught, their snarls silenced before they could even reach him.

Aeliana found herself transfixed. The rest of the adventurers and mercenaries fought valiantly, their skills honed and their formations steady. Captain Eryndor's leadership ensured the Fourth Station held its ground. But even from her distant vantage point, it was clear that none of them shone like the young man.

'Well, at the very least, thank you for showing me a good show for my final moments.'

This was a saving grace, was it not?