Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Chapter 323 A Mother’s Strength

Lucavion stood over the charred and broken remains of Vaelric, his estoc still faintly glowing with the remnants of black starlight. The air was thick with the acrid smell of ash and mana residue, a stark reminder of the battle that had just unfolded. His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the scene, the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

ʼNow, he is dead,ʼ Lucavion thought to himself, his tone devoid of satisfaction or regret. It was simply a fact, cold and unyielding.

[Yeah…] Vitaliaraʼs voice entered his mind, soft yet weighted. She perched on his shoulder, her ethereal presence both comforting and disquieting. Her golden eyes, usually so vibrant, now shimmered with an unspoken conflict.

Vaelricʼs body, or what remained of it, lay sprawled on the fractured obsidian floor. He was the architect of so much destruction—the one who had torn apart the Azure Blossom Sect and forced Vitaliara to flee into the shadows. And yet, even in death, his presence lingered like a ghost, heavy and inescapable.

Lucavionʼs gaze remained fixed on Vaelricʼs remains, his mind as calm as the still air around him. The faint hum of his [Flame of Equinox] echoed softly in his ears, the flickering black fire surrounding his estoc dying down slowly. He felt the pull of something lingering—an afterimage of power, a dark residue that clung to the ruins of Vaelricʼs form.

Vitalaira leapt gracefully from his shoulder to the ground, her golden eyes locked onto the crumpled remains. Her fur shimmered faintly, her celestial energy responding to the oppressive weight of death that filled the air.

She turned to him, her voice a whisper carried by the stillness. [Absorb him.]

Lucavionʼs lips curved into a slight smirk, a familiar edge of mischief in his dark eyes. ”Straight to the point, huh?” But there was no real jest in his tone. He understood her meaning entirely. The energy coursing through Vaelricʼs body was potent—raw, untapped, and born of years of cultivation. It would not go to waste.

Without hesitation, he raised his estoc, the blade reigniting with a ripple of black starlight. The [Flame of Equinox] coiled and writhed along its length, its dual nature—a balance of life and death—ready to consume the remnants of Vaelricʼs power.

The flame flickered before surging outward, stretching like a living tendril toward the remains. As it made contact, the mana residue erupted in a burst of crimson light, the final resistance of Vaelricʼs fading will.

The energy recoiled before succumbing, drawn inexorably into the hungry flames. Lucavion felt the surge of power the moment it entered him—a rush of vitality mingled with the essence of death, rich and potent. His breath hitched as his body absorbed it, the intensity of Vaelricʼs mid-4-star realm power overwhelming for a brief moment.

ʼThis energy...ʼ he thought, his smirk fading as his focus sharpened. It was intoxicating, almost alive, coursing through his veins and sinking deep into the very core of his being. It wasnʼt just raw power—it carried the weight of Vaelricʼs battles, his cruelty, his ambitions.

The rush was both a gift and a curse, a reminder of what it took to claim strength in a world so unforgiving.

Vitalairaʼs flames rose beside his, and a faint shimmer of ethereal light added to the scene. She observed the process with an unreadable expression, her voice entering his thoughts once more.

[You knew what he was. You knew the value of his death.]

Lucavion nodded faintly, his gaze not leaving the swirling flames. ʼOf course, I knew. A mid 4-star realm cultivator doesnʼt come around every day.ʼ His tone carried a quiet confidence, but beneath it was the sharp edge of calculation. ʼThatʼs why I brought the mercenaries. Without them dividing his forces, I wouldʼve faced a gauntlet just to get here. A risk worth taking... but one that couldʼve ended in my death.ʼ

He clenched his fist as the flames settled, their energy coalescing within him. His body pulsed with newfound strength, the essence of Vaelricʼs death now his to wield. The sensation was both satisfying and sobering—a reminder of the cost of power.

Vitaliaraʼs golden eyes flickered toward him, her tail curling slightly as she absorbed his thoughts. [Youʼre always calculating, arenʼt you? Even now.]

Lucavion allowed himself a small chuckle, lowering his estoc as the last remnants of Vaelricʼs energy faded into him. ”Calculating? I wouldnʼt say that. Practical? Absolutely. If I hadnʼt been, we wouldnʼt be standing here.”

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before shifting back to the smoldering remnants. [Itʼs fitting, in a way,] she said softly. [That the power he used to destroy so much is now the foundation of something greater.]

Lucavionʼs smirk returned, his confidence tempered with a rare note of reflection. ”Fitting or ironic... Iʼll take it either way.”

THUD!

Just then someone moved right at that moment.

Lucavionʼs smirk disappeared, replaced by a sharp, calculated expression as the sound reverberated through the chamber. He turned toward the noise, his estoc steady in his hand. Vitaliara perched back onto his shoulder, her ethereal body tense, the glow in her golden eyes flickering with unease.

The source of the disturbance was clear now—a figure leaning heavily against a crumbled column at the far end of the chamber. Her silhouette was striking, despite the state she was in. Long black hair cascaded down her back in a tangled mess, her figure voluptuous yet marred by countless bruises and scars. Her hood partially obscured her face, but her grey eyes were unmistakable, dull and hollow, like windows to a shattered soul.

Lucavion approached her slowly, the echo of his boots the only sound. Vitaliaraʼs voice trembled in his mind, [Gabriela?] Her disbelief carried the weight of recognition and sorrow, yet it was laced with hesitation as if she couldnʼt bear to confirm what her eyes saw.

Lucavion stopped just short of the woman, his eyes narrowing. He could see the faint rise and fall of her chest, the labored breaths of someone who had endured far more than their share of suffering. She stirred slightly, her head tilting toward him with an effort that seemed to cost her what little strength she had left.

”Ah…..”

The woman named Gabrielaʼs lips parted, a faint sound escaping her as her eyes focused with growing clarity. Her gaze shifted past Lucavion and landed on Vitaliara, who stood at his side, her celestial fur glowing faintly as if responding to the womanʼs presence.

”Lady Vitaliara...” Gabrielaʼs voice cracked, hoarse and strained, each word seemingly pulled from the depths of her exhaustion. Despite her weakened state, there was a faint reverence in her tone, a whisper of who she once was.

Lucavionʼs brow furrowed as he glanced at Vitaliara, his mind already racing to connect the threads of this unexpected encounter. ”You know her?” he asked, his voice calm but laced with curiosity.

Vitaliaraʼs golden eyes shimmered, her tail curling tightly around her small frame. [I do,] she replied, her voice soft yet heavy with emotion. She stepped closer to Gabriela, her movements deliberate, as if she were approaching a sacred memory. [She is… or was… Gabriela Ailthane, Sect Master of the Azure Blossom Sect. My aide.]

Lucavion tilted his head slightly, studying Gabriela with a slight sense. ”That sect?” His tone was neutral, but his gaze sharpened as he considered the implications. A mid-4-star warrior reduced to this—it was both a testament to her strength and a grim reminder of the devastation wrought by Vaelric.

Gabrielaʼs breath hitched at the mention of Vaelric, her body trembling faintly. She clutched the edge of her tattered cloak, her fingers weak but determined. ”You… youʼve slain him?” she rasped, her grey eyes searching Lucavionʼs face as though seeking confirmation.

Lucavion nodded, his smirk returning, albeit tempered by gravity. ”Heʼs gone. Permanently. You have my word.”

A fleeting spark of relief flickered in Gabrielaʼs eyes, but it was quickly overshadowed by a wave of pain. She slumped further against the column, her strength waning.

Vitaliara leaped to her side, nuzzling Gabrielaʼs arm with a gentleness Lucavion rarely saw in her. [Rest, Gabriela. Youʼre safe now.]

Lucavionʼs sharp gaze held steady as he observed Gabriela, her trembling form slumped against the column. Despite Vitaliaraʼs attempt to offer comfort, the celestial creatureʼs efforts seemed to dissipate in the heavy silence. Gabrielaʼs grey eyes stared blankly past them both, devoid of light, of hope, of any tether to the world around her.

Lucavion took a step back, his expression hardening. ”I see...” he murmured, his voice low and measured. He studied her carefully, noting the utter hollowness in her gaze. Her body remained upright by sheer force of habit, but her spirit—her very essence—was gone.

Her eyes told him everything. They were the eyes of someone who had lost everything, someone who had been drained of the will to fight, to dream, to live. Lucavion knew those eyes all too well; he had seen them in countless souls broken by the weight of a cruel world.

”...You are gone,” he whispered, the words heavy with understanding and finality.

Gabriela didnʼt react. She didnʼt flinch, didnʼt acknowledge his presence. She remained a fragile shell, a ghost of who she once was. Her silence only solidified what Lucavion already knew.

His fingers tightened around the hilt of his estoc. Slowly, deliberately, he drew the blade from its sheath, its dark metal catching the dim light of the chamber. The [Flame of Equinox] flickered faintly along the edge, a soft hum of life and death coiling in harmony.

”Then,” Lucavion said, his voice steady but filled with an undercurrent of sorrow, ”let me grant you the end you long for.”