Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Chapter 1181: A Permanent Place

By Tuesday morning, the Academy had begun moving its freshmen again.

Enchanted carriers rolled through the residential avenues on brass limbs, balancing trunks and weapon cases while the projection maps above each intersection rearranged their routes. Attendants redirected students around restricted passages, minor disputes formed wherever luggage received contradictory instructions, and the grounds gradually absorbed every temporary examination group into the sectors assigned by permanent placement.

Some students travelled behind enough possessions to furnish another residence.

Lucavion carried one case.

The special-admission residence stood behind him with its wards still active, although the rooms that had held the five commoner entrants were already being cleared. It had never belonged to an ordinary freshman Block. Housing the commoners together had made them easier to protect, supervise and manage while their presence remained politically sensitive.

That arrangement ended with the examinations.

Their Academy cards supplied different routes now. Elayne followed an eastern marker, Mireilla departed north, and Toven disappeared among the students moving toward another residential sector. No one restated their intention to remain in contact. The increasing distance between their assigned paths communicated the change well enough.

Caeden remained beside Lucavion for the western part of the journey. He carried more than Lucavion, though not enough to require one of the enchanted porters currently staggering beneath a noble student’s collection of lacquered chests.

He took the relocation more seriously than Lucavion did, comparing their projected routes and questioning whether Block placement alone determined the assignment. Lucavion admitted that he knew the broad residential principle but not its exact application; when Caeden asked where he had learned even that much, Lucavion redirected his attention toward a route marker that had just changed.

Caeden gave him a look. ”Convenient.”

”Usually.”

That was all the answer he received.

The permanent residential hierarchy had appeared in Shattered Innocence, though only where it mattered to the original story. The novel had cared about Elara’s placement among the mages, the students surrounding her and the pressure created by those relationships. It had possessed considerably less interest in the exact room assigned to the fifth-ranked freshman of the Martial Arts Block.

Lucavion knew that standing influenced location, privilege and facility access.

The details remained his to discover.

The western grounds began changing before any gate formally announced the Martial sector. Decorative paths widened into reinforced stone roads, corners opened to accommodate polearms and armoured bodies, while slender ornamentation gave way to thick walls crossed by impact-resistant formations. Students carried swords, spears and bows through the avenues without earning a second glance.

The residences had not been separated from training life. Practice yards occupied the spaces between courts, recovery chambers and cultivation rooms filled the lower floors of adjoining buildings, and even the benches stood far enough from the walls for armed students to sit without removing their weapons.

A heavy impact sounded beyond one courtyard, followed by the scrape of boots against reinforced stone. Inside, two upper-year students traded strikes beneath a monitoring formation while several others waited near the boundary.

Caeden slowed to examine the ground more closely.

”You approve,” Lucavion observed.

”The reinforcement reaches beneath the surrounding walls. They expect people to use the yard properly.”

Lucavion glanced at the waiting students, one of whom carried a poleaxe large enough to make that preparation seem reasonable. ”A stirring compliment to the architecture.”

Caeden ignored him and continued until their route markers separated at the next junction. His card directed him toward a residence beyond the southern training grounds, while Lucavion’s path led deeper into the western court.

Their farewell required little discussion. Caeden adjusted the strap across his shoulder and suggested they test the nearest yard the following morning; Lucavion agreed, provided the newly arrived residents had not destroyed it before then.

Caeden left by the southern path.

Lucavion continued along the western path alone, following the pale marker projected above his Academy card as it led him between two adjoining practice courts.

The road narrowed there, descending beneath an elevated passage before opening into another residential square. Morning light fell across the reinforced walls in broad, angled bands, catching upon weapon racks, polished buckles and the metalwork of students still carrying the greater part of their lives toward unfamiliar rooms.

Amid all that movement, one figure stood remarkably still.

She had positioned herself before a projected map near the opposite entrance, where several layers of blue light displayed the facilities surrounding the residential court. A long rose-pink braid descended over one shoulder, its color softened beneath the morning sun until it seemed almost pale against the darker fabric of her uniform. The substitute sword at her waist had been secured precisely enough that neither the sheath nor its suspension straps shifted as she moved between the map’s layers.

Even from behind, her posture carried the severe balance of someone who would consider leaning an unnecessary surrender to gravity.

Lucavion’s steps slowed.

For an instant, the Academy around her appeared strangely misplaced.

He had seen that braid beneath rain, dust and blood. He had watched its owner glare across an inn as though insolence were a crime for which she had personally volunteered to deliver the sentence. Somewhere between that morning and this one, the image had changed without asking his permission. The knight who once demanded proof before believing anything about him now stood within the same residential court, close enough that chance encounters would no longer require conspiracies, emergencies or particularly determined monsters.

The girl raised one hand and rotated the projection. Training halls replaced the residential map, followed by reservation periods, recovery facilities and equipment restrictions. She examined each with the grave concentration another student might have reserved for a military campaign.

There could be little doubt now.

Valeria Olarion had arrived before most of the court and immediately begun determining which parts of it were useful.

That, at least, had not changed.

What had changed was where she stood.

In Shattered Innocence, Valeria had belonged elsewhere at this point. Her Academy life should have begun near Elara’s, their paths drawn together through shared acquaintances, repeated encounters and the smaller frictions from which their eventual friendship had formed.

The present arrangement had preserved almost none of that.

Elara had not entered the Academy as the commoner heroine Valeria was supposed to meet. She had entered as Elowyn Caerlin, carrying a noble identity, a different residence and relationships that had begun long before the Academy could arrange them properly. The moments that should have placed the two women beside one another had either changed or vanished entirely.

And Valeria, rather than standing somewhere near Elara’s story, was here.

Alone in a Martial residential court.

Near him.

Lucavion watched her dismiss the recovery-room schedule and open the reservation conditions for the nearest training hall. She read halfway down the list, selected another panel, then compared both against the route leading from the residences.

The realization settled with such tidy absurdity that a scoff escaped him.

”Heh...”

Valeria’s hand stopped against the projection.

Her head turned first, followed by the rest of her with the measured readiness of someone who had already identified the direction of the sound. Violet eyes found Lucavion across the court, sharpening briefly before recognition eased something small within them.

Her head turned first, followed by the rest of her with the measured readiness of someone who had already identified the direction of the sound. Violet eyes found Lucavion across the court, sharpening briefly before recognition eased something small within them.

For a single second, they shone.

The change was slight enough that another person might have mistaken it for sunlight passing through the projection between them. Lucavion had seen the same light in Andelheim, however, appearing whenever Valeria found someone she had worried about standing where he was supposed to be. It never survived for long. Discipline descended over it almost at once, restoring the composed features of Lady Olarion before the warmth could become an admission.

Lucavion shook his head.

Some things changed considerably. Others learned to hide faster.

He approached with his case hanging from one hand, letting his gaze travel from the facility map to the reservation panels she had already opened. ”Yo. Pink knight.”

Valeria turned her head away.

Lucavion slowed beside her. ”What?”

Her attention remained upon the projected layout as she shifted from the recovery facilities to the nearest practice halls. ”...Humph.”

The sound carried enough dissatisfaction to make Lucavion tilt his head. He studied the side of her face, then followed her gaze toward a list of training-room restrictions that could not possibly have offended her this personally.

”What is it now?”

”I don’t like that look.” Valeria closed one panel with a precise movement of her fingers, though the next appeared before she could pretend to be occupied with anything else.

Lucavion touched the corner of one eye. ”This one?”

”The one you had when you saw me.”

”That is rather specific. I have looked at you several times already.”

”Humph. That does not make it better.”

Her answer arrived without heat, shaped by the weary certainty of someone citing an established fact rather than beginning an argument. Valeria finally faced him again, her gaze lingering upon the amusement he had made no effort to conceal.

Apparently, finding him nearby had pleased her.

Being caught in the act had not.