Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Chapter 1086: Something useful

”Whatever the attribute is, his control over it is genuine.”

Tamara’s conclusion lingered over the observation alcove while the three black-ashen manifestations continued moving around Lucavion.

The chamber had already begun running out of meaningful ways to pressure him. Its currents still changed direction, density continued shifting around the platform, and the requested output remained considerably higher than where the external-control section had begun, yet the difference in Lucavion’s response had become difficult to ignore. Earlier, every disturbance had returned to him as another problem his core and meridians needed to answer directly. Now the crude framework he had established carried part of that burden for him, allowing each manifestation to yield within the limits he had given it before recovering toward its assigned state.

Elir watched another sequence complete, compared the results against the previous several cycles, and finally lowered his hand toward the control panel.

”That is sufficient.”

Lucavion turned his head.

His breathing had returned to something close to normal, although the dried trace of blood near the corner of his mouth and the stiffness still hidden beneath his shoulders made the earlier struggle difficult to forget.

”Already?”

Marcus’s expression tightened.

Selenne almost sighed.

’Of course.’

The boy had spent several minutes looking as though the chamber intended to pull his cultivation apart from the inside, yet apparently surviving meant he could immediately return to being irritating.

Elir appeared to reach much the same conclusion.

”Maintain your manifestations while I lower the environmental pressure. The chamber needs to return to baseline gradually.”

The currents weakened in stages.

Lucavion’s three spheres steadied as the surrounding mana settled, their black flames drawing closer to the surface until the strange chill that had reached the observation alcove began fading with them. When Elir reduced the requested output, Lucavion followed without difficulty, thinning the flames first before allowing the spheres themselves to shrink.

By the time the final manifestation dispersed, the chamber felt ordinary again.

Almost.

Selenne remained aware of the absence left behind by that unsettling quality in his flame, just as someone might notice the silence after a low vibration finally stopped.

Elir deactivated the formation.

The six crystals surrounding Lucavion dimmed one after another, while the silver channels beneath his boots lost their glow and returned to dull metal set into the stone.

Lucavion remained in place for several breaths.

He flexed his fingers.

Then he rolled one shoulder, shifted his neck, and seemed to quietly check whether his body had forgiven him for what he had just done.

Selenne watched the movement.

’That cost you.’

How much remained difficult to say.

Lucavion stepped down from the platform.

”Well?”

Elir remained focused upon the recording slate.

Lucavion waited perhaps three seconds.

”Professor?”

”I heard you.”

”You looked busy.”

”I am evaluating you.”

”That sounds important.”

”It usually is.”

Lucavion smiled.

Elir finally lifted his gaze.

”Your reinforcement control was excellent. Your weapon coating showed comparable precision, particularly when the requested area and density changed. During the external-control section, your stability deteriorated considerably once the interference intensified.”

Lucavion nodded.

There was surprisingly little defensiveness in the movement.

”And afterward?”

Elir glanced toward the final readings.

”Afterward, you changed your method.”

”I noticed.”

”So did everyone else.”

”That is unfortunate.”

Elir ignored him.

”Your recovery was exceptional. The final measurements place your external control well above the expected first-year standard for your rank, although the instability during the middle phase remains part of the evaluation.”

Marcus stepped closer.

”At least we agree on that.”

Selenne glanced toward him.

He had regained much of his usual composure now that the examination had ended, though the frustration beneath it had hardly disappeared. Whatever he had expected from Chamber 3C, Lucavion recovering strongly enough to turn the final portion into evidence of talent had clearly been absent from the preferred outcomes.

Still, Marcus possessed enough sense to avoid arguing against numbers while Tamara stood beside him.

Selenne rested one hand against the back of a chair.

”Record the instability.”

Marcus looked toward her.

For a moment, he appeared suspicious of the lack of resistance.

She continued.

”And record the recovery, the change in execution, and the final variance.”

Elir nodded. ”Naturally.”

Marcus gave a restrained exhale.

Tamara had already lowered her quill to the Tower record.

”My report will state that Student Lucavion displayed significant strain during the advanced interference sequence, followed by a marked alteration in his control method and substantial improvement in stability.”

She paused, reread something on the recording slate, then added another line.

”His final performance exceeded the normal first-year standard. His manifested attribute remained self-sustained throughout the final section, with no external support detected.”

Marcus said nothing.

There was very little left to say.

Lucavion, however, seemed determined to use the remaining opportunity.

He turned toward him.

”Professor Marcus.”

Marcus’s eyes narrowed immediately.

”Yes?”

”I wanted to thank you.”

”For what?”

”For attending.”

A pause settled between them.

Lucavion inclined his head with just enough sincerity to become suspicious.

”Knowing that someone with your responsibilities would wake at such an unreasonable hour merely to watch my examination was deeply encouraging.”

Selenne pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek.

Marcus stared at him.

”I attended because additional oversight was required.”

”Of course.”

”You understand that?”

”Completely.”

The answer was smooth enough that Marcus wisely decided against giving him anything further.

He gathered his folio.

”Then there is nothing else to discuss.”

Lucavion smiled.

”Have a pleasant morning, Professor.”

”I intend to.”

Marcus offered the required farewells to the others and left.

The heavy stone door closed behind him.

Only then did Selenne realize Tamara had yet to move.

The Tower mage had gathered her papers beneath one arm, but her leather case remained open upon the table. More importantly, she was looking at Lucavion.

Closely.

Her pale gaze travelled from his face down toward his shoulders, continued along his arms, paused at his bare wrists, then moved across his uniform and stance before slowly returning upward.

Selenne frowned.

The earlier artifact inspection had been clinical.

This was appraisal.

Lucavion eventually looked down at himself.

”Did something change?”

Tamara’s eyes returned to his face.

”No.”

”You seemed concerned.”

”I was considering something.”

”That expression becomes less comforting when pointed at me.”

Tamara ignored the remark.

”How much do you know about your ancestry?”

The smile on Lucavion’s face remained, though Selenne saw the boundary appear beneath it almost immediately.

”Very little that would be useful to you.”

Tamara caught the wording.

”Your family had no recognized magical lineage?”

”I have no useful record to offer you.”

”That is a different answer.”

”It is.”

Tamara studied him for several seconds.

Selenne found herself watching the exchange more carefully than she intended.

The Tower had spent centuries cataloguing magical inheritance, bloodline traits, affinity tendencies and the appearance of rare talents across family trees. Whatever politics surrounded those records, the scholarship itself remained immense. Someone like Lucavion naturally invited interest precisely because so little about him fit where the Tower expected exceptional ability to come from.

Tamara adjusted the papers beneath her arm.

”Your affinity cannot currently be classified. Your manifested attribute matches no familiar category we have identified, your control is unusually refined, and your martial development appears to have almost no traceable origin.”

Lucavion listened.

”You understand why the Tower would want a clearer picture.”

”I understand why you are curious.”

”Would you submit to a deeper examination?”

Selenne’s attention sharpened.

Lucavion tilted his head.

”What would you examine?”

”Your core response, mana circulation, the interaction between your manifested attribute and the rest of your cultivation. Depending upon the initial findings, perhaps more.”

Lucavion looked at her for a moment.

”How invasive?”

Tamara hesitated.

The delay was small.

Selenne noticed it.

So did Lucavion.

His smile became quieter.

”I think I will keep the inside of my body private for now.”

Tamara’s expression cooled slightly.

”I was proposing an arcane examination.”

”I know.”

”And you are refusing?”

”For now.”

The answer contained neither hostility nor apology.

Tamara held his gaze.

”The Tower may be capable of answering questions the Academy cannot.”

”I believe you.”

”Yet you are uninterested?”

Lucavion considered that wording.

”I am uninterested in being examined that thoroughly at present.”

Tamara’s eyes narrowed a fraction.

Another careful truth.

Eventually, she closed her case.

”The offer remains.”

”I will remember it.”

”We will likely speak again.”

Lucavion sighed softly.

”Everyone keeps saying that as though I should be worried.”

This time, Selenne saw the smallest movement near Tamara’s mouth.

Whether it had been irritation or amusement remained unclear.

The Tower mage offered them brief farewells and left.

Elir returned to his paperwork almost immediately.

Selenne watched Lucavion glance toward the chamber door.

”I’ll walk with you.”

He looked back.

”Magister?”

”Yes.”

”Should I prepare for another test?”

”No.”

Lucavion smiled. ”Then certainly.”

*******

The Academy outside remained caught between night and morning.

By the time they climbed from the cultivation district into the eastern gardens, darkness had softened into deep blue, while the horizon beyond the distant roofs carried a narrow line of silver-gray. Frost still covered the paths and low hedges, and the hovering lamps had begun dimming as the first suggestion of daylight reached the upper windows of the faculty towers.

Cold air touched Lucavion’s face.

He drew a long breath.

His shoulders lowered with it.

”You’re tired,” Selenne said.

Lucavion glanced sideways.

”After everything you observed, Magister, that conclusion feels disappointingly ordinary.”

”You nearly collapsed.”

”I bent.”

”You groaned.”

”Artistically.”

”You had blood in your mouth.”

He thought about that.

”That part could use improvement.”

They continued along the path.

Mist rose from one of the mana-warmed waterways beside them, sliding across the garden stones in thin white strands while the rest of the Academy gradually began showing signs of waking. Somewhere beyond the buildings, a door closed. Farther away, something metallic rattled inside one of the maintenance yards.

Selenne allowed several moments to pass before asking what she had wanted to ask since the flames first appeared.

”What is your flame?”

Lucavion looked toward her.

”What about it?”

She stopped walking.

He took another step before realizing she had remained behind.

When he turned, she was staring at him.

His lips twitched.

”The black one,” she said.

”Ah.”

”Yes. That one.”

”I suspected as much.”

”Lucavion.”

He laughed softly and returned to her side.

”What do you want to know?”

”What it is.”

”It is mine.”

Selenne closed her eyes briefly.

”You are exhausting.”

”That answer was accurate.”

”It was also useless.”

”Those qualities can coexist.”

She resumed walking.

”Is it dark mana?”

”No.”

The answer came immediately.

Selenne looked toward him.

His expression held none of the playful uncertainty he used when rearranging a conversation.

”Dark arts?”

Lucavion considered the term.

”I would not describe its origin that way.”

Another careful answer.

Selenne noticed.

”What does it actually do?”

”Several things.”

”Such as?”

”It burns.”

She stared at him.

Lucavion endured the look for several paces.

Eventually his smile softened.

”Calling it fire is convenient.”

That was more than he had given her before.

Selenne caught the phrasing.

”Convenient rather than accurate?”

Lucavion glanced toward the brightening horizon.

”I did not say inaccurate.”

Neither had he said accurate.

Selenne felt irritation rise, then let it go.

She had already learned enough about him to understand what was happening.

He would joke around the boundary.

He would redirect whatever approached it.

If she asked a question he could answer safely, he answered.

If the truth behind it belonged to something he intended to keep, Lucavion simply refused to surrender the necessary piece.

Selenne exhaled.

”Fine.”

He turned toward her.

”Fine?”

”Yes.”

”You’re giving up?”

”I am accepting that you do not intend to tell me.”

For once, the smile faded into something quieter.

”Thank you.”

The sincerity in those two words took some of the edge from her annoyance.

They reached the narrow bridge crossing one of the garden channels.

Selenne rested her hand briefly upon the frost-cold stone as they passed.

”What changed inside the chamber?”