Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Valeria stepped into the command tent, the air inside noticeably warmer than the crisp night air outside. The scent of parchment, wax-sealed letters, and faint traces of old magic clung to the space—remnants of the preparations made for this very moment.

At the center of the tent, resting atop a reinforced wooden table, was the communication sphere.

A polished gem of deep blue, large enough to fit in both hands, resting within an intricately designed metal stand. Thin veins of silver magic pulsed along its surface, barely visible in the dim lighting.

Valeria looked at it with a faint sense of wariness.

She had heard the explanations before—how the artifact connected over long distances, how it linked to its twin within the Marquis' possession through arcane resonance. One of the mages under her command had gone into detail about its functions once, explaining the precise theories behind the spellwork involved.

It had all gone straight over her head.

She was not a mage. She understood swords, strategy, the weight of a blade in her hand—but magic?

She simply knew that if she activated the sphere correctly, it would work.

Taking a breath, she placed her palm against the cool surface of the gem.

The energy beneath her fingertips stirred, and with a pulse of light, the connection was made.

The air inside the tent shifted, magic thickening around her like an unseen weight. The sphere shimmered, then—

A figure formed.

The outline sharpened, and within moments, standing before her in translucent projection, was Marquis Vendor.

Tall, composed, and ever unreadable. He wore a dark embroidered coat with the sigil of his house pinned at the collar. His silver-threaded cloak draped over one shoulder, and despite the distance between them, there was no mistaking the cold intelligence in his eyes.

Valeria straightened.

"My lord," she greeted.

At her greeting, the Marquis' sharp gaze shifted slightly. Then, to her mild surprise, a smile spread across his face—a rare expression from a man as calculating as Vendor.

"Didn't I tell you to not be so strict?"

His voice was lighter than usual, carrying something almost teasing, though the weight of his authority never fully disappeared.

Marquis Vendor had become immensely powerful over the past year. With the fall of the Cloud Heavens Sect and the slow, methodical consumption of their assets, his influence had grown unyielding. His military strength rivaled those of older noble houses, and his word was slowly creeping its way into the Imperial Court.

But despite all of that, he had always been rather fond of Valeria.

He was one of the few who did not regard her simply as a sword to wield. He had seen her determination, her unwavering discipline, and rather than shape her to his will, he had let her remain as she was.

But Valeria remained a knight first.

She inclined her head slightly, unwavering in her posture. "Formality is necessary, my lord. I am still under your command."

Vendor exhaled with amusement, shaking his head slightly. "And yet you never allow yourself even a moment's ease."

Valeria said nothing.

Valeria remained silent, her expression steady and composed.

Marquis Vendor chuckled, the deep sound carrying through the projection. "Truly, you are relentless, Valeria. I wonder if you ever let yourself rest."

She simply held his gaze.

He let out a small sigh, as if resigned, before waving a hand dismissively. "Very well, let's not waste time. Your report?"

Valeria gave a sharp nod. "The castle has been occupied. Baron Godfrey is in our custody, his forces have surrendered without prolonged resistance. We will be escorting him to Vel Strael."

Vendor raised an eyebrow. "Vel Strael? Hm. The old garrison city?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "It is fortified, and more importantly, neutral ground under the Empire's jurisdiction. The Council stationed there will see that he does not escape before his trial."

The Marquis exhaled slightly, nodding. "A wise choice. I will take things from here. Once he is secured, I will arrange for his formal sentencing."

Valeria inclined her head. "Understood, my lord."

Vendor studied her for a moment, his sharp gaze scanning her face as if searching for something unspoken. Then, after a pause, his expression shifted once more, amusement flickering in his eyes.

"With this, your duty for now is over," he said, his voice carrying a note of finality. "You have done well."

There was no mistaking the rare note of satisfaction in his tone. He leaned back slightly, his sharp gaze softening just enough to reveal the depth of his approval. "House Olarion's cooperation in this campaign has been invaluable," he continued, his voice measured yet warm. "I am truly pleased."

Valeria inclined her head in acknowledgment, her posture unwavering. "I am grateful for your words, my lord." And with that, she received the grace.

She had been working relentlessly—not just out of duty, but because this was the path set before her. It was the agreement made between her father and the Marquis, one that she had honored without question. Of course, she was not the only capable knight within their forces. There were plenty of skilled warriors under her command, including several five-star-ranked knights and even a formidable six-star among them.

Her role as an acting captain was not just a title but a challenge she had taken upon herself—to lead, to learn, to sharpen her own edge amidst battle. She had no illusions about her place; there were others stronger than her. But she would not let that deter her. This was her experience to gain, her battlefield to understand.

The tension in the tent eased slightly as Marquis Vendor exhaled, leaning back with a look of quiet satisfaction. His sharp eyes, so often calculating and reserved, held a rare trace of warmth as he regarded Valeria.

With a subtle shift in tone, he spoke again, his voice carrying a more casual air. "Ah, but enough of war councils and obligations," he mused, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I have heard an interesting piece of news about you, Valeria."

She met his gaze, waiting.

He chuckled softly, a rare sound from him. "I hear you are set to attend the Imperial Academy."

Valeria gave a slight nod. "That is correct, my lord," she confirmed, her voice composed as always. "The time has come for me to enroll."

"Of course," Vendor murmured, his eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "It is only natural, isn't it? House Olarion has been making steady strides to reclaim its former prestige. Attending the most esteemed academy in the Empire is a necessary step in that effort."

Valeria inclined her head slightly in agreement. The Olarion name had suffered over the years—its reputation once shining, now dulled by political missteps and diminished influence. Her father had spent years carefully positioning their house, aligning with the right factions, rebuilding old alliances. But prestige was not merely a matter of politics—it was also a matter of strength. And there was no better place to prove one's strength than the Imperial Academy.

"More than just necessity," Valeria added, "it is an opportunity."

Vendor gave an approving nod. "Indeed."

A pause stretched between them before the Marquis tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering in his gaze. "And from what I hear, you will not be the only 'prominent' figure gracing the Academy this year. It seems this particular generation is quite an interesting one."

Valeria remained silent for a moment, considering his words.

It was true. This year's Academy enrollment was said to be unusually competitive, drawing in figures from noble houses, renowned sects, and even those of common birth who had made names for themselves through sheer ability. She had caught murmurs of it before—the scions of major houses, young prodigies, ambitious warriors all converging upon the Academy like storm clouds gathering before a tempest.

"It does seem so," she admitted at last. "Several well-known names have surfaced. Heirs of major houses, sect disciples, and even some independent fighters."

Marquis Vendor exhaled softly, the amusement in his gaze lingering but now tempered with something more thoughtful. He regarded Valeria for a moment before leaning back slightly in his chair, his expression shifting to something more introspective.

"I do not know what your father is thinking," he mused, his voice carrying a rare note of casual reflection. "Nor do I claim to know what your family's intentions are regarding your time at the Academy. But—" he paused, his eyes sharp yet strangely warm, "—you should treasure it."

Valeria blinked, slightly caught off guard by the shift in tone.

Vendor smiled faintly, as if sensing her surprise. "You are young, Valeria, but not naïve. You understand duty, ambition, and discipline better than most. But the Academy… it is not just about sharpening one's strength or securing a position for the future." His gaze turned distant, as though recalling something long past. "It is a fleeting time, one that you will not experience again. And when you are older, you may find yourself looking back and realizing just how much of it was lost to responsibilities you never questioned."

Valeria remained silent, studying him carefully.

"Ah, speaking from experience, are we, my lord?" she asked at last, her voice neutral but lightly probing.

Vendor chuckled, shaking his head. "I suppose I am," he admitted, his smirk tinged with nostalgia. "When I was younger, I thought every moment had to be spent in pursuit of something—power, influence, proving myself to those who doubted me." His fingers tapped idly against the armrest of his chair. "I was not wrong. But I did not realize, until much later, that there were moments in between… moments worth keeping."

It was something Valeria couldn't easily figure out….