Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Chapter 557: Information (2)

”The real question is, Lucavion… What exactly do you plan to do with this information?”

Lucavionʼs fingers tapped once against the folder, a slow, measured movement that barely made a sound. His expression was unreadable—his usual smirk absent, his posture still. But his eyes—ah, his eyes—were sharp. Too sharp.

Corvina knew that glint well.

ʼSo, you do have history with him.ʼ

Still, she said nothing. Whatever tangled past existed between Lucavion and Aldric Veltorin, it wasnʼt her business. She had done her part. The rest? That was his burden to carry.

Lucavion finally looked up, locking eyes with her. And just like that—his usual demeanor slid back into place, as effortless as a mask being lowered. The ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips, his voice smooth, easy. ”Iʼll do what I want with this information.”

Corvina rolled her eyes. ”Obviously.”

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she let out a long-suffering sigh. ”You better use it, considering what I had to go through to get it. You have no idea how hard it was to pull these records.” She gestured at the folder. ”You think this was just lying around in some neatly organized archive? No, I had to pull favors. A lot of favors.”

Lucavionʼs smirk deepened, clearly entertained. ”Corvina, are you complaining?”

”Yes,” she snapped, drumming her fingers against the desk. ”Because I donʼt enjoy having to contact people who now think I owe them something.” She shot him a look. ”Do you know how many people I had to convince that I was just doing a favor for a certain arrogant bastard and not prying into restricted war records for my own gain?”

Lucavion hummed in amusement, resting his chin against his gloved hand. ”Ah, but you did it so well.”

She groaned. ”Unbelievable.”

Then, she straightened, her expression turning more serious. ”But you should know… someone didnʼt want these records found.”

Lucavion raised an eyebrow.

”The moment I started digging too deep, certain files suddenly became… difficult to access. I had to get creative.” Corvina narrowed her eyes slightly. ”Itʼs like someone deliberately scrubbed traces of him away.”

Lucavion didnʼt react immediately. He simply tilted his head, as if considering the weight of her words. Then, after a beat of silence, he asked, ”Where is he now?”

Corvina exhaled. ”Last known location? The border region between Arcanis and the independent territories. No official allegiance, but if the rumors are to be believed… heʼs been seen in Varenthia.”

Lucavionʼs smirk didnʼt waver, but there was something colder beneath it now. ”Varenthia.”

Corvina nodded.

Lucavion repeated the name again, rolling it over his tongue like a foreign taste. ”Varenthia.”

A beat of silence.

Then—he blinked. ”Where is that?”

Corvina let out a sharp exhale through her nose, pinching the bridge of it as if she were fighting off a headache. ʼRight. I almost forgot—this bastard is also a country bumpkin when it comes to geography.ʼ

She shook her head, muttering under her breath before fixing him with a flat stare. ”Varenthia is one of the independent city-states near the Arcanis border. Technically neutral, but only because itʼs run by mercenaries, exiles, and opportunists who refuse to pledge allegiance to any major power. Itʼs not lawless, but itʼs not exactly… stable either.”

Lucavion hummed, clearly unbothered. ”Sounds lively.”

Corvina ignored him. ”More importantly, the Royal Family was involved in whatever happened to Aldric. Are you sure you want to get involved in this?”

Lucavionʼs expression barely shifted. Then, in a dramatic display, he widened his eyes, placing a hand over his chest as if struck by a sudden realization. ”Oh no. The Royal Family? Me, offending them? Perish the thought.”

Corvina didnʼt even blink.

He tilted his head, lips curving into something utterly insincere. ”I am but a humble, law-abiding citizen. I wouldnʼt dream of stirring trouble.”

Corvina just sighed. ʼThis absolute liar.ʼ

She leaned back in her chair, waving a dismissive hand. ”Fine. Do whatever you want.”

Lucavionʼs smirk widened slightly. ”Thatʼs the plan.”

Corvina sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of her nose as she glared at Lucavion. ”You know,” she began, her tone dry, ”youʼve managed to create an entirely different kind of problem for me.”

Lucavion blinked at her, looking entirely too pleased with himself. ”Have I?”

”Yes.”

She exhaled, dragging a hand through her hair as she gestured vaguely at the stack of reports piled high on her desk. ”You know how, in normal guild operations, adventurers take quests, earn money, and we keep the economy flowing?”

Lucavion nodded, pretending to listen. ”Yes, Iʼve heard of such a thing.”

”Well, congratulations,” Corvina deadpanned. ”Youʼve effectively put my guild out of work.”

Lucavion paused, then tilted his head. ”Ah,” he said after a beat. ”That explains why the quest board was looking rather empty.”

Corvina just stared at him. ”Looking rather empty”?

She clenched her jaw, inhaling deeply through her nose before snapping at him, ”Lucavion, you wiped the quest board clean in three days.”

Lucavion let out a soft chuckle, looking far too unbothered for a man responsible for a total quest drought. ”Oh, well, that is impressive, isnʼt it?”

Corvina shot him a deadpan look. ”No. It is not impressive.”

”The guildʼs running fine, isnʼt it?” he mused, sipping at the tea she had already forgotten was there.

”Oh, sure,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. ”The guild is running great. Except for the part where adventurers have no jobs because some self-righteous lunatic has been clearing every dungeon, wilderness, and monster nest within a hundred-mile radius.”

Lucavion shrugged lazily. ”Well, they were there.”

”Thatʼs not an excuse.”

He hummed, his smirk deepening. ”What would you have me do, Guildmaster? Leave the poor monsters alone?”

Corvina rubbed her temples. Why did she even bother?

”The problem isnʼt just that you cleared a few dungeons,” she muttered, eyeing him with open frustration. ”The problem is that you cleared all the dungeons. And all the surrounding wildernesses. And every notable monster threat thatʼs supposed to be handled gradually by adventuring parties, not a single damn man.”

Lucavion sighed, shaking his head in faux disappointment. ”Youʼd think the Guildmaster would be more grateful for my contributions.”

Corvina glared daggers at him.

Then, slowly, she took a breath, leaning forward and pointing at him.

”Lucavion,” she said, dead serious, ”you cleared the quest board so thoroughly that I had adventurers arguing over a lost cat mission.”

Lucavion paused.

Then, in the most genuinely entertained tone she had heard from him in weeks—

”A lost cat mission?”

”Yes.” Corvina did not blink. ”A lost cat mission. Four adventuring parties fought over it.”

Lucavion leaned back, letting out a low whistle. ”Hah. Thatʼs unfortunate.”

”Unfortunate?”

”Yes.” He took another sip of tea, completely unfazed. ”I shouldʼve taken that one too.”

Corvina nearly threw something at him.

She inhaled deeply, exhaling through her nose, clenching her fists before forcing herself to speak in a measured tone.

”…You,” she muttered, her tone dangerously calm, ”are a menace.”

Lucavion chuckled. ”Iʼve heard that before.”

Corvina sighed sharply, rolling her shoulders. ”Alright, fine. Iʼll handle it. But I swear, Lucavion—” she narrowed her eyes at him ”—if you keep this up, Iʼll have to start charging you an environmental tax.”

Lucavion laughed at that, tilting his head slightly. ”Now thatʼs just cruel.”

”You,” she said, leaning back in her chair, dragging her fingers through her hair, ”have no idea.”

She needed more tea.

Or a drink.

Preferably both.