Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

"Father."

The duke's breath caught in his throat.

In front of him stood a girl.

Her back pressed against the cold stone, her delicate frame resting against the cavern floor. Her long, flowing black hair cascaded down like silken strands of midnight, pooling beneath her like ink.

And her eyes.

Bright amber orbs—sharp, piercing, alive.

Eyes that should have been dulled by sickness, dimmed by weakness.

But they weren't.

They burned.

They shone.

And her skin.

It was glowing.

A soft, radiant luminescence, like polished ivory reflecting the light of the moon. The sickly pallor, the faint scars, the blemishes that had plagued her body were gone.

The marks.

The curse.

Everything.

The cavern felt silent, save for the steady drip of water echoing through its depths. The glow of the bioluminescent crystals painted shifting shadows across the walls, their soft hues illuminating the two figures standing at its heart.

Duke Thaddeus stood motionless, his breath heavy, his heartbeat pounding against his ribs. His mind struggled to comprehend what he was seeing, but his body moved before thought could take hold.

"…Aeliana…"

The name left his lips like a breath, raw and disbelieving.

And then, without hesitation, he rushed forward.

His cloak billowed behind him as his boots scraped against the cavern floor. His normally measured steps, precise and composed, were urgent, reckless even. The moment he reached her, his hands grasped her shoulders, pulling her toward him as if she might disappear again if he let go.

"You are safe…"

The words came out as a hushed whisper, barely audible, yet filled with an emotion he had not allowed himself to feel in years.

And then—he held her.

Duke Thaddeus, the man known for his unwavering discipline, for the weight of his authority, for his fearsome presence that could silence a battlefield—hugged his daughter.

Not as a ruler. Not as the Duke of the East. But as a father.

His arms wrapped around her smaller frame, holding her tightly against him. He could feel her warmth, her heartbeat against his chest, the undeniable proof that she was here. That after a week of despair, of scouring the abyss for even the smallest trace, after nearly losing himself to grief and rage—he had found her.

Aeliana stiffened.

She had not expected this.

She had expected anger—reprimands, lectures, an interrogation. She had expected to be dragged back, forced to answer for her recklessness.

But this—this was different.

Her father, a man she had always known to be cold, distant, controlled—was holding onto her like he had nearly lost everything.

Because he had.

Slowly, the tension in her body eased, her own arms lifting hesitantly. She had never embraced her father before—not like this, not in a way that felt real. But something about this moment—**this overwhelming relief, this warmth—**made her forget her usual resentment.

"…Father," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

But Duke Thaddeus did not let go.

Not yet.

Because for the first time in a very, very long time—nothing else mattered.

Not the fact that she was cured.

Not the mystery of the vortex.

Not even the strange presence lingering deeper within the cavern.

None of it mattered.

Because after all the searching, after all the failures and hopeless nights, his daughter was in his arms again.

The cavern remained still, wrapped in the quiet warmth of an embrace neither of them had expected.

Aeliana felt the steady rise and fall of her father's breath, the weight of his arms around her, unmoving.

She didn't know how long they stood there.

Seconds.

Minutes.

Time blurred into something insignificant.

For the first time in years, Duke Thaddeus did not think about his title. His duty. The empire.

He did not think about strategy or power or the future.

He simply held his daughter.

The daughter he had thought he lost.

The daughter who had returned, alive.

Whole.

But—

Slowly, the Duke's sharp senses returned.

Something else was here.

Someone.

Duke Thaddeus' grip on Aeliana loosened. The warmth of relief, of reunion, was rapidly cooling as something else—someone else—finally registered in his senses.

His gaze snapped to the side.

Leaning against the cavern wall, arms folded, standing with the casual arrogance of someone who had all the time in the world, was a young man.

His slightly wavy hair, dark like the abyss itself, framed a face that held neither fear nor reverence. His black eyes, deep and unreadable, met the Duke's piercing gaze without hesitation. There was no bow, no sign of respect—only amusement.

And then—he smiled.

A slow, knowing, almost too easy smile.

"Hello?"

His voice was smooth, his tone carrying an infuriating lightness, as if this moment—this long, desperate search, this agonizing ordeal—was nothing more than a simple event unfolding as expected.

"Dear Duke Thaddeus."

The cavern's silence stretched.

The Duke's glare sharpened, his body tensing as his instincts immediately shifted from relief to danger. He had been so focused on Aeliana, so overwhelmed by the sight of her—**whole, healed, alive—**that he had momentarily ignored the presence that had been there all along.

A mistake.

He should have noticed this man the moment he stepped foot inside.

And yet—

The young man tilted his head slightly, his smirk deepening. "Please, don't mind me," he continued, lifting a hand as if in mock reassurance. "I wouldn't dream of ruining such a heartfelt reunion."

A pause.

A mocking pause.

Both of them knew the truth.

The moment he spoke—the reunion was already ruined.

Duke Thaddeus let out a slow, measured breath. The air around him shifted—not with relief this time, but with something colder, sharper, more dangerous.

"….."

His grip on Aeliana fully released as he slowly, deliberately, turned to face the young man.

Aeliana, still caught between the lingering warmth of her father's embrace and the sudden tension that overtook him, hesitated. She knew that look on his face.

Her father was assessing.

Measuring.

Determining if this person standing before him was a threat.

And in Duke Thaddeus' world—almost everyone was.

The cavern remained silent, save for the distant sound of dripping water.

The young man simply smiled wider, watching him with that same unreadable amusement.

As if he had been waiting for this moment all along.

*******

Duke Thaddeus' head turned slightly, his sharp gaze locking onto the young man. His presence, subtle yet undeniable, was not weak.

If anything, for someone so young, his mana presence was exceptional.

'5-star.'

That was the first assessment that crossed the Duke's mind. The density, the weight of his mana—it was at the level of an elite knight, a seasoned warrior.

But something was off.

Duke Thaddeus was a man who could measure power with a single glance, who had spent decades standing before knights, mages, and warlords alike. He knew what a 5-star was supposed to feel like.

This young man… wasn't normal.

There was something else lurking beneath the surface. A presence that flickered, shifting just outside of his understanding. It was as if the mana surrounding him wasn't entirely stable, like something about his very existence was unnatural.

'Maybe it's because of the art he practices.'

That thought came quickly, logically. Many techniques, particularly ancient or forbidden ones, could distort the perception of mana.

But it didn't sit right.

His instincts—his instincts told him this man was something else entirely.

Still, that wasn't what caught his attention the most.

Black hair.

Black eyes.

Black hair was common. But black eyes?

Not just dark brown, not shadowed hazel—pitch black. Like the abyss itself.

And then there was the scar.

A faint mark running along the side of his neck, just barely visible beneath the collar of his worn coat.

Duke Thaddeus' thoughts sharpened.

Eryndor had mentioned this.

Among the survivors of the expedition, one name had been spoken.

A name attached to a swordsman who should not have survived.

A man who had fought at the heart of the battle, one of the last to stand against the Kraken—only to be swallowed by the vortex.

And yet, here he was.

Standing before him.
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Duke Thaddeus met his eyes.

And then, finally, he spoke.

"Are you Luca?"

A pause.

For the first time, the young man's smirk faltered.

Just for a second.

But Thaddeus caught it.

Luca's black eyes flickered, something unreadable flashing behind them before that same confident, amused expression returned.

He tilted his head slightly, as if considering the question.

Then—he smiled again.

"Ah, so you've heard of me."

His voice was light, but there was an underlying weight to it.

Not surprise.

Not caution.

Amusement.

-------------A/N--------------

It appears that quite a lot of you have been dissatisfied with the cliffhanger, so here with another one.

Anyway, I will have my course selection tomorrow and I need to get one course that is really important for my schedule. Wish me luck.