Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra - Chapter 572 - 572: Locked
Lucavion stepped into his room, shutting the door with an ease that made it seem like he hadn’t just thoroughly amused himself at Caius’s expense. He exhaled, rolling his shoulders slightly as he took in the space—minimalist, practical, devoid of any real personality. Exactly the kind of place he expected.
Not that it mattered.
His sharp gaze flicked upward toward the wooden beams supporting the ceiling. He hadn’t needed to look. He’d already known she was there.
A faint rustling, the sound of something shifting weightlessly against the wood, and then—
[You’re cruel,] Vitaliara murmured, her voice slipping into the air like a whisper of wind.
Lucavion smirked. “What, for putting him in his rightful place?”
A soft thump. Then another. In the dim light, a sleek shape moved, fluid and effortless, descending with the grace only a being like her could manage. The moment her paws touched the ground, she stretched lazily, tail flicking behind her in a way that seemed almost…judgmental.
[For locking him in,] she corrected. [You shut the door rather quickly, didn’t you?]
Lucavion shrugged, unbothered. “I didn’t lock it.”
Her sharp green eyes narrowed.
[You let it click loudly. Enough that he’d think you locked it.] She hopped onto the desk, curling her tail neatly around herself. [You’re playing games again.]
Lucavion chuckled, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves before rolling them up. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
[It is,] she muttered, resting her chin against her paws. [You toy with people too much.]
A smirk tugged at his lips. “And yet, you always watch.”
Vitaliara huffed. She had no response to that.
Lucavion sat on the edge of his bed, one arm resting on his knee as he studied her. “So,” he mused, “you couldn’t stand being in the inn?”
[The smell was horrid,] she admitted without hesitation. [That entire place reeked of old ale, sweat, and unwashed men. Why would I choose to be there when I can be here?]
A lazy tilt of his head. “Because you don’t trust me enough to be alone?”
She blinked once. Then—
[You don’t trust yourself to be alone.]
Lucavion’s smirk twitched, but he said nothing.
Silence settled between them, thick yet comfortable. Vitaliara didn’t need to pry. She had always been perceptive enough to know when to push—and when to let things lie.
After a moment, she spoke again, softer this time.
[You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?]
Lucavion exhaled through his nose, tilting his head back slightly. The wooden ceiling, the quiet hum of night outside—none of it was enough to distract from the weight pressing at the edges of his mind.
“Aldric Veltorin.”
Vitaliara’s ears flicked.
[That guy…..Draven knew him.]
Lucavion hummed in agreement. “Knew of him. Which is enough.”
He leaned back, resting one arm behind him. His voice was smooth, measured—but there was a sharpness underneath.
Vitaliara’s tail flicked once, a slow, thoughtful movement. Then—she sighed.
[This matter isn’t simple, Lucavion,] she murmured. [It goes beyond quite a lot.]
Lucavion raised a brow, waiting.
She met his gaze, green eyes dark with something contemplative. [You heard what Draven said. Every lead on Aldric was cut off before he could even act. That’s not just power—it’s deliberate. Systematic. The kind of clean-up only a very particular kind of force can manage.]
Lucavion exhaled through his nose, fingers drumming lightly against his knee. “The Royal Family.”
[Exactly,] Vitaliara confirmed. [And if they’re covering his past, that means there’s a high chance he’s still working for them.]
Lucavion chuckled, low and quiet. “Which means killing him here would be the same as slitting a noble’s throat in the middle of their own estate.” His smirk widened. “It’d make things… fun.”
Vitaliara did not look amused.
[Lucavion.] Her voice was sharper now. [This isn’t just another mercenary group or an arrogant noble playing power games. If Aldric really is connected to them, then going after him means directly antagonizing the Royal Family.]
Lucavion’s expression didn’t change. If anything, his smirk only deepened, his black eyes gleaming with something dangerously close to amusement.
“So what?” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “I’m here to kill a certain someone from my past. The number of people who want me dead is already long enough to fill a graveyard. A few more names on the list won’t make a difference.”
Vitaliara’s tail lashed behind her, her irritation plain.
[You absolute idiot,] she snapped. [This time, they’ll have a direct reason to deal with you.]
Lucavion let out a soft, breathy laugh. “And?” He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping into something smoother, quieter. Deadlier. “Let them.”
Vitaliara’s fur bristled. [Lucavion.]
He leaned back again, utterly unbothered. “You’ve been alive for so long, yet sometimes, you’re really stupid.” He smirked. “Especially when it comes to politics.”
Vitaliara visibly stiffened.
Then—
[You!]
Lucavion chuckled, letting the word hang between them, his amusement clear.
Lucavion’s smirk didn’t waver as he watched her, the faint glow of the lantern casting flickering shadows across the room.
“You’re wrong about one thing,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly.
Vitaliara’s ears twitched, still bristling from his previous words, but she didn’t interrupt.
Lucavion’s voice remained smooth, measured. “The Royal Family won’t have a direct reason to deal with me.”
She narrowed her eyes. [You think they’ll just ignore you after this?]
“I think they won’t be able to act openly,” he corrected, his smirk deepening. “They’re not here formally. If they were, this wouldn’t be some hidden game of erasing records and burying trails. They may be supporting Aldric, but they’re doing it underhandedly.”
Vitaliara stilled, considering his words.
Lucavion leaned forward slightly, resting his elbow against his knee. “If the Royal Family openly moved to protect him, the other noble houses would also step in. And if that happens…” He chuckled, voice laced with amusement. “Then we get a much bigger game—a political war between the strongest factions in the empire. Do you think they’d risk that over one knight?”
Vitaliara didn’t answer immediately.
She knew he had a point. The balance between the noble houses, the rivalries that simmered beneath the surface—it was always about control. If one family made too bold a move, the others would pounce like starved wolves.
Lucavion leaned back again, lazily stretching. “So when I kill Aldric, I’m not slaying a ‘loyal knight of the empire.’ I’m just cutting down an unruly bastard who deserted the army.” His black eyes gleamed. “No different from any other rogue mercenary.”
Vitaliara exhaled sharply, her tail flicking once, her frustration simmering beneath the surface.
[It’s still a risk,] she muttered.
Lucavion shrugged. “Everything is.”
[And you’re still reckless.]
He smirked. “I’m effective.”
Vitaliara scoffed, but there was a reluctant acknowledgment in her expression. She didn’t like it. She didn’t want to admit it.
But she knew.
He was right.
*****
Three days passed.
Three days of quiet maneuvering. Of whispered deals and carefully placed messages.
Draven wasn’t the type to rush—timing was everything. He knew that better than anyone.
So he spent those three days arranging the board.
The Crimson Dogs were eager—too eager. The Black Veil had cut into their work, and they were already sharpening their blades, waiting for an excuse to strike. He fed them just enough information to make sure they stayed hungry, but not enough to make them reckless.
The Dusk Fang Syndicate, as expected, played neutral. They wanted to see who would come out on top before taking a side. Typical.
And as for the Republic’s men?
They were watching. Waiting. They hadn’t moved yet, but Draven knew their type—they always backed the strongest player. If this plan worked, they’d be lining up to make deals with him soon enough.
Now, everything was set.
And it was time to bring in the wildcard.
Lucavion.
Draven exhaled through his nose as he leaned back in his chair, rolling his shoulders.
This guy…
Even after three days, Draven wasn’t sure what to make of him. Caius had been reporting back—reluctantly, of course—and every single report made Lucavion sound more like a ghost than a man.
No unnecessary movement. No wasted time.
He barely spoke to anyone. Didn’t cause any trouble—but at the same time, felt like trouble itself.
And most importantly—he was waiting.
Draven smirked.
Well. Let’s not keep him waiting any longer.
He raised a hand, signaling to one of his men standing by the door. “Go get him.” His voice was calm, measured. “Tell our sword demon that it’s time for his show.”
The man nodded and left, leaving Draven alone in the quiet.
Draven exhaled, rubbing his temple.
“Let’s see what we do….”
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