Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Captain Edran took a steadying breath, his fingers flexing as if trying to shake off the ghostly touch of the past. His words had been measured, but the weight of them filled the chamber like an oppressive fog. The surviving knights and adventurers stood in solemn silence, their faces drawn, their bodies stiff with the remnants of battle.

Edran exhaled, his gaze darkening. "It happened all at once."

The Duke leaned forward slightly, his expression unreadable, though his eyes remained sharp. "Explain."

Edran nodded grimly. "The Iron Drake was the first to go. One moment, it was ahead of us, holding formation, its crew fighting the lesser sea beasts as planned. Then—" he snapped his fingers, the sound cutting through the tense silence like a blade, "—gone."

A chill ran through the room. No embellishment. No hesitation. Just the sheer, brutal truth.

"The ship didn't sink," Eryndor added, his voice quiet but firm. "It was taken."

The Duke's fingers curled against the desk. "Taken?"

Edran nodded. "A tentacle rose from the depths, as wide as the ship itself. It moved faster than anything that size should, faster than any of us could react. The Iron Drake was lifted, its hull groaning under the pressure—"

A pause. A tremor in his voice.

"—and then it was dragged under."

The mercenary captain standing nearby let out a shaky breath, his knuckles white against the hilt of his sword. The other knights, hardened men who had survived countless battles, remained silent, their faces pale with the memory.

Edran's voice hardened. "No wreckage, no bodies. Just… gone."

Silence stretched in the chamber, heavy and suffocating.@@novelbin@@

"And that was only the beginning," Eryndor murmured. His hands clenched into fists, his knuckles turning bone-white. "Once it struck, the rest of the fleet fell apart. The sea turned against us—the currents shifted violently, waves capsized ships that hadn't even been touched. The winds screamed as if the storm itself was alive. And the Kraken… it moved through it all like it commanded the ocean itself."

The Duke's jaw tightened. He had known. He had felt it. And yet, hearing it confirmed did not ease the weight in his chest.

Edran forced himself to continue. "We fought, of course. Tried to hold formation, to push back. Some of the adventurers managed to land blows on its tentacles—enchanted arrows, fire magic, even lightning spells. But none of it mattered. The wounds sealed as if they had never been there. It didn't fight like a beast."

His voice dropped, a whisper of disbelief. "It fought like a god."

Another silence. This time, one of understanding. The Duke exhaled through his nose, his thoughts moving rapidly. He had fought against overwhelming odds before. He had seen monsters, creatures of nightmare and legend. But even so—

Eryndor shifted, stepping forward. His posture was rigid, formal, but there was something else beneath it—hesitation. A thought he was struggling to voice.

"Your Grace," he said carefully, seeking permission.

Thaddeus inclined his head. "Speak."

Eryndor took a slow breath, steadying himself. "That Kraken… it wasn't normal."

The Duke's gaze snapped to him, his expression sharpening. "Not normal?" His voice was even, but the weight behind it was unmistakable. "How many Krakens have you seen?"

A small murmur rippled through the survivors. Eryndor met the Duke's gaze head-on, undeterred. "None, Your Grace," he admitted. "Not before this."

Thaddeus' fingers tapped against his desk, his narrowed eyes demanding an explanation.

Eryndor continued, his voice steady. "But there was someone who had seen something—who knew something. An adventurer. He was the one who saved many of us, who led a counterattack even when everything was falling apart."

The Duke frowned. "Who?"

Eryndor straightened. "Luca, Your Grace. The swordsman."

At that name, a shift went through the room. Some of the knights looked up in recognition, others exchanged glances. The Duke, however, remained still, waiting.

Eryndor took that as his cue to continue. "Luca was the first to call it what it was. The moment he saw it, he knew."

His voice dropped slightly, as if recalling the moment.

"He said: We are against a Kraken."

The Duke's eyes flickered with something unreadable. He remained silent, waiting.

Eryndor pressed on. "But that wasn't the part that stood out, Your Grace." He hesitated, then took a breath. "He also said… This thing—whatever it is—doesn't just feel out of place. It feels wrong."

That word hung in the air like a specter.

Wrong.

The Duke's expression darkened. "Explain."

Eryndor swallowed. "He said that its movements, its presence—it didn't belong. It wasn't just a creature of the sea. It was something else."

The room's temperature seemed to drop.

Thaddeus leaned forward, his voice lower now. "And do you believe him?"

Eryndor met his gaze without hesitation. "Yes, Your Grace."

Eryndor exhaled, steadying himself before continuing. "That kid… he wasn't normal."

The Duke's gaze remained sharp, watching him with quiet intensity.

"The way he fought," Eryndor went on, his voice measured but firm, "it wasn't just skill—it was something more. He threw himself into the fight as if his life meant nothing, yet every move was calculated. His talent… it was beyond what should be possible for an adventurer of his rank."

Thaddeus raised an eyebrow at that. "Are you certain?"

Eryndor nodded. "I watched him closely. From what I observed, his rank was only 4-star—nothing more, nothing less."

A slight pause.

"And yet, he achieved that rank in the middle of the battle."

A murmur rippled through the chamber. Some of the knights stiffened at the revelation, while the mercenary captain inhaled sharply. Even Edran, who had remained silent until now, furrowed his brow.

Thaddeus' fingers tightened slightly against the desk. His voice was quieter now, but it carried a heavy weight. "He broke through in the middle of the fighting?"

"That is correct," Eryndor confirmed without hesitation.

The Duke's gaze darkened in thought.

Breaking through a rank mid-battle was no ordinary feat. It was rare—exceptionally so. Most Awakened required preparation, a controlled environment, time to focus. To ascend in the midst of chaos, with one's life hanging by a thread… that was the mark of either a reckless fool or a true warrior forged in the crucible of death.

And something told him that this Luca was not a fool.

Eryndor wasn't finished. His voice lowered slightly, but the weight in his words increased.

"Even though he was a 4-star Awakened… it felt like he could go face to face against me."

Thaddeus' eyes sharpened. "Against you?"

A pause.

Eryndor nodded once, his expression grim. "A peak 5-star."

The chamber fell into complete silence.

The impact of his words settled over the room like a storm cloud.

Edran's jaw tightened slightly, his mind clearly working through the implications. The other knights and adventurers exchanged looks, some skeptical, others unnerved.

The Duke, however, did not react immediately. He studied Eryndor carefully, as if searching for any sign of exaggeration. He found none. Explore more at My Virtual Library Empire

Thaddeus finally leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly against the wooden surface. His voice, when he spoke, was softer than before—but laced with unmistakable intrigue.

"…That is not something I can ignore."

The flickering lamps cast shifting shadows across his face, accentuating the contemplative edge in his gaze.

A 4-star… holding his own against a peak 5-star?

That was not merely talent. That was an anomaly.

"Eryndor," Thaddeus said, his tone firm, "are you certain?"

The knight held his gaze. "I am, Your Grace."

Another beat of silence. Then the Duke exhaled through his nose, something unreadable flickering in his expression.

"If that is true," he murmured, "then this Luca is no ordinary adventurer. No one reaches that level alone." His gaze flickered toward the knights. "There is a high chance he is the disciple of a high-ranked Awakened."

Eryndor inclined his head. "That is my belief as well."

The Duke's fingers steepled, his thoughts racing. If this Luca truly had a master of that caliber, then whoever trained him was someone of significant power. Someone who had cultivated him in secret. And if he broke through mid-battle, against an opponent like the Kraken, it meant he had been on the edge of that threshold for some time—waiting for the right moment.

A disciple of a master. A swordsman with an unnatural presence. A fighter whose rank did not reflect his true strength.

Thaddeus' gaze drifted toward the window, where the distant sea stretched into the night.

"…Interesting."

For the first time since the disastrous expedition, a new thought took root in his mind.

Luca.

He would need to see this boy for himself.