Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

"AARGHK-!"

Pain shot through Lucavion's body as the energy coursed through him. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, a searing, primal force that burned through his veins and threatened to tear him apart. Sweat poured from his neck, drenching his clothes as he struggled to keep his focus.

[Stay with it, Lucavion,] Vitaliara's voice echoed in his mind, her tone firm but supportive. [This is the essence of life, raw and untamed. It's not meant to be controlled by force but harnessed through understanding and respect. Feel it, and let it guide you.]

Gritting his teeth, Lucavion focused inward, his mind locking onto the wild energy within him. He could feel the Fire of Life battling with the abyssal energy, each force powerful in its own right yet fundamentally opposed.

But as he concentrated, he began to sense a pattern within the chaos, a rhythm that mirrored the pulse of life itself.

Vitaliara continued to guide him, her voice steadying him through the storm of energy. [You've already figured out how to circulate the fire energy before. Now, feel the fire within you—this is the true fire, the spark of life. Use it to gather the energy from outside, just as you would with the abyssal energy.]

Lucavion took a deep breath, despite the pain wracking his body, and focused on the fire within him. Slowly, he began to draw in more of the Fire of Life, harnessing it with the same methodical approach he had used with the death mana.

As he did, he felt the two energies begin to interact, their colors—white for life, black for death—swirling together within his core.

The moment the energies began to mix, the pain intensified. It was as if his core was being torn apart from the inside, the conflicting energies clashing violently as they sought equilibrium.

Lucavion's vision blurred as the pain threatened to overwhelm him, his consciousness slipping away as the power within him ran rampant.

But just as he teetered on the edge of losing control, Vitaliara's voice cut through the haze. [Stay awake, Lucavion! You're doing well! Don't let go now!]

Lucavion's grip tightened, both on his consciousness and on the energies within him. He forced himself to stay present, to endure the agony as the Fire of Life and the abyssal energy struggled to merge. The forces raged within him, but he refused to let them consume him.

[Focus on the balance,] Vitaliara urged. [You've already established a connection. Now, let them find harmony. They're not enemies—they're two sides of the same coin. Life and death, creation and destruction. Let them coexist within you.]

While she was saying that, even she was not expecting what was happening there. She was also doing this thing for the first time in her hundreds of years of life.

'Can he really do it?'

She was also questioning herself. The kid….He was walking on a thin rope; with any sort of mistake, he would fall down.

On the other hand, with every ounce of willpower he had, Lucavion focused on the core within him, on the merging energies that were now slowly beginning to stabilize.

'I see…..So this is how it goes….'

Lucavion thought. Even if he was in pain, he was feeling a familiar feeling. It was like when he held the sword for the first time.

When he felt like the sword himself was guiding him.

It was the same as that one just now, as well.

'Mend the Fire of Life and crush the Frost of Death.'

The wild chaos of the Fire of Life started to blend with the cold, controlled abyssal energy. The pain began to ease, just slightly, as the energies settled into a fragile harmony.

The swirling colors within his core—white and black—began to coalesce, forming a new, unified energy. It was still wild, still dangerous, but it was no longer tearing him apart. Instead, it felt… balanced.

Lucavion's breathing steadied as the pain subsided to a manageable level. He could feel the power within him, immense and untamed, yet under his control.

The Fire of Life and the abyssal energy had merged into something new, something stronger than either on its own.

It was unlike anything he had ever experienced—a fire that was black as night, yet its heat was intertwined with an icy coldness. This fire wasn't just an amalgamation of two forces; it was a fusion that transcended them, creating something entirely new.

The black fire swirled within his core, its essence both raw and refined. It was a flame that burned with the intensity of life yet carried the chilling stillness of death.

It was the embodiment of duality—a fire that was both hot and cold, a frost that was both rigid and flowing.

Lucavion's eyes slowly turned black, mirroring the color of the new energy that now resided within him.

His vision darkened, not with blindness, but with a profound clarity that came from deep within. He felt his consciousness slipping into a state of enlightenment, the world around him fading as he was drawn inward into the depths of his own being.

A thick, pitch-black smoke began to rise from his body, swirling around him like a shroud.

It wasn't just energy—it was an extension of the power he had forged, a manifestation of the balance between life and death that now defined him.

The smoke pulsed with an otherworldly energy as if it were alive, responding to his every thought and movement.

As the smoke swirled around him, Lucavion whispered to himself the name of the technique that had emerged from this fusion of energies.

"Flame of Equinox."

He mumbled.

The name came to him as naturally as breathing, as if it had always been there, waiting for him to discover it.

But that was not the end.

In his closed eyes, inside his mind, Lucavion saw the same dream.

The same dream where a lone star stood, pitch black.

Before, it was just dead and dry….. It was not active.

But now…..It was burning….With a pitch black flame that was similar to the one that he felt inside his core….

Lucavion felt the energies intertwine with his own essence, and for a moment, he was filled with a sense of profound accomplishment. The power was immense, and it was his to command. But before he could take another breath, his vision darkened, and the world around him began to blur.

THUD!

His body gave out, and he collapsed to the ground.

Vitaliara's eyes widened in alarm as she watched him fall. She rushed to his side, her heart pounding in panic. [Lucavion!] she called out, her voice tinged with fear.

As she reached him, she scanned his body for injuries, fearing the worst. But as she examined him more closely, she realized he wasn't harmed. His breathing was steady, his pulse strong. It was just that his body and mind had reached their limits.

[You're just exhausted,] Vitaliara murmured, relief flooding through her as she understood what had happened. The process of merging the energies, the strain of the technique, had taken everything out of him. He had pushed himself to the brink and beyond.

With a gentle smile, Vitaliara leaned down and licked his face, a gesture of both affection and reassurance. [You've been working hard,] she whispered, her voice soft. [Rest now. You've earned it.]

*******

The general sat at his desk, the dim light of the oil lamp casting long shadows across the room. The silence of the night was broken only by the occasional distant shout of a soldier or the rustle of leaves in the wind.

A sudden knock on the door shattered the stillness, pulling the general from his thoughts. He straightened in his chair, "Enter," he called, his voice calm but tinged with an undercurrent of unease.

The door creaked open, and an officer stepped inside, his face pale and drawn. The general's sharp eyes immediately picked up on the tension in the man's posture, the nervous flicker in his gaze.

"Sir," the officer began, his voice shaky, "we've received feedback from the pursuit team. They're… they're gone, sir. The entire unit has been wiped out."

The general's expression darkened. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes closing for a moment as a deep sigh escaped him. "I knew something like this would happen," he muttered, more to himself than to the officer.

His fists clenched tightly, the leather of his gloves creaking under the pressure.

Before the general could utter another word, there was another knock on the door, this one softer, more measured.

He glanced at the officer, who took a step back, unsure of what to do.

"Come in," the general called, his voice steady.

The door opened once more, and this time, a figure dressed in a pristine black suit entered, his movements smooth and practiced.

It was the butler of the Count, a man known for his impeccable manners and the aura of quiet authority he carried with him.

"General…."

It was the general's time to account for what happened…..

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