Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Today was the same, with a little change.

As the evening deepened into night, the familiar hum of activity filled Mariel Farlon's tavern. With the city's tournament drawing more people than usual, her inn was bustling with visitors—some honorable warriors, others less so.

It had been a busy day, with patrons coming and going, many of them boasting about their upcoming matches or drowning their nerves in drink.

Mariel moved through the inn like she always did, her sharp eyes missing nothing. She had seen it all over the years—adventurers, mercenaries, and even nobles trying to impress their companions.

But with the increase in foot traffic during the tournament, trouble always followed. And tonight had been no exception.

A burly man, his voice slurred and his movements sluggish, had decided that he'd had one drink too many. His booming laughter quickly turned into shouting, and soon enough, the situation escalated into a full-blown brawl when he swung a fist at another patron. The tables had been overturned, chairs knocked aside, and drinks spilled everywhere.

Mariel had stepped in, her presence commanding as always. Without hesitation, she had subdued the man with swift, efficient strikes that left no room for retaliation. Even in her retirement, her strength and skill were nothing to underestimate. The tavern had quieted after that, a few nervous glances exchanged among the remaining patrons, who wisely kept to their drinks.

Now, as the night stretched on, Mariel stood near the bar, wiping down a mug as she kept a watchful eye on the remaining crowd. The atmosphere had settled somewhat, though the rowdy energy of the tournament-goers lingered in the air. She knew that as long as the tournament was in full swing, her inn would be a hotspot for excitement—and for trouble.

She sighed softly to herself. "Never a dull moment," she muttered.

Just as she was about to return behind the counter, the door to the inn opened, and someone entered.

The door to the inn creaked open, and in walked the young man from earlier that day—Lucavion whose name she had heard when the girl was calling him.

His casual stride and carefree aura were the same as before, but there was a certain deliberateness in the way he moved as if he had come here with a purpose.

He wore the same worn clothes, his straw hat tilted low over his face, giving him an air of mystery that hadn't gone unnoticed throughout the day.

He glanced around briefly, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on Mariel. Their gazes met, and in that brief moment, Mariel knew why he was there. He had come alone, and the look he gave her confirmed it—he was here to talk.

Lucavion made his way to the bar counter, the casual confidence in his movements never faltering. He sat down, leaning slightly against the counter as if he had done it a hundred times before. His presence, while relaxed, still carried a quiet power that seemed to ripple subtly through the air.

Jorkin, one of Mariel's trusted staff members, approached Lucavion with a nod, ready to take his order. The young man exchanged a few words with him, his tone as light as ever before Jorkin disappeared to fetch whatever Lucavion had requested.

But Mariel's attention didn't waver. She continued wiping down the mug in her hand, though her focus remained on Lucavion. He had come for more than just a drink. The slight glance he had thrown her earlier had been enough of a signal.

'He's come to talk,'

Mariel thought, setting the mug aside. She wasn't sure what the conversation would entail, but she had an inkling that it would lead back to the starlight mana—the very thing that had stirred something deep within her that morning.

Mariel's expression remained as stern as ever as she approached Lucavion, her sharp gaze never wavering. She moved with the same commanding presence she always carried, her demeanor projecting the authority she was known for. To anyone watching, it would seem like a typical encounter between the inn's formidable owner and a patron who had caught her attention.

There were eyes on her, as there often were, given her reputation and the notable presence of this young man. But Mariel's experience told her that Lucavion wasn't the type to seek attention—at least, not the kind that came with being associated with her. She chose her approach carefully, both to test him and to maintain the illusion that this was just a regular interaction.

She stopped in front of him, her hands resting on her hips. For a moment, the inn seemed to quiet ever so slightly, the eyes of a few patrons subtly flicking toward them. Mariel's voice was low and even as she spoke.

"Is there something you need?" she asked, her tone neutral, giving no indication of their earlier recognition.

Lucavion, leaning back against the counter, let a small, amused smile cross his lips. His eyes gleamed with that familiar, playful light, and after a brief pause, he tilted his head up toward her.

"There's no need to act," he said softly, his smile widening just enough to carry a hint of mischief. "I don't mind the attention."

The words hung in the air for a moment, and Mariel raised an eyebrow slightly. He had seen right through her, and what's more, he didn't care. His statement was clear: he wasn't concerned if people thought there was a connection between them if it meant drawing some attention. He didn't mind at all.

It was a bold response and one that made Mariel reevaluate her initial caution. This young man wasn't like most people who crossed paths with her. His confidence, his ability to read a situation, and his complete lack of concern for appearances spoke volumes.

'Interesting. Should I just call it youth?'

Mariel's stern expression couldn't help but soften just slightly, though her eyes remained focused and sharp. "Is that so?" she asked, a hint of curiosity creeping into her voice.

Lucavion gave her a knowing look as if he already understood far more than he was letting on. "After all," he continued, his voice casual but steady, "it's not often you get to talk to someone like you."

For the first time in a long while, Mariel found herself intrigued. Lucavion wasn't trying to hide, nor was he afraid of standing out. There was no pretense with him, and that made her wonder just how much he truly knew.

"Well then," Mariel replied, her voice now carrying a subtle warmth beneath the surface, "I suppose we have something to talk about after all."

"Indeed, we do have. Miss Little Bear."

The moment Lucavion spoke those words—

Miss Little Bear

—Mariel's eyes widened in surprise, her stern composure cracking for the first time in years. That name, the one she hadn't heard in decades, hit her like a wave of memory crashing down all at once. It was a name that only one person had ever called her, and hearing it now, from this young man, sent a chill down her spine.

Her mind raced back to a time when she had been just a young, reckless fighter—a mere mortal trying to survive in a world full of dangers far beyond her understanding. She had been on the brink of disaster, overwhelmed by an enemy that she had no chance of defeating when

he

had appeared. The figure of starlight, the being who had saved her life and set her on the path she would later follow. It was

he

who had called her by that name, with a smile on his face, teasing her for her stubborn courage in the face of overwhelming odds.

And now, this young man before her—Lucavion—was calling her the same name.

Her heart raced as the pieces fell into place. The purple light in his eyes, the starlight mana, the way he seemed to know more than he let on. This wasn't a coincidence.

Lucavion was connected to that figure

, the one who had shaped her life so profoundly all those years ago.

For a brief moment, Mariel was at a loss for words, the weight of the realization settling over her like a heavy blanket. When she finally spoke, her voice was softer, almost reverent. "You… you know him."

Lucavion's smile widened slightly, his eyes twinkling with that same enigmatic glow. "It seems you remember," he said, his tone light but carrying a deeper meaning.

Mariel took a breath, steadying herself. "How do you…?" she began, but she already knew the answer. There was no need to ask the obvious. This young man, with his starlight mana and his knowledge of her past, was undeniably connected to the being who had once saved her.

A mix of emotions surged through her—gratitude, curiosity, and a strange sense of pride. If Lucavion truly was a disciple of that figure, then the fact that he had been sent here, or had come here, meant something. And the idea that

she

had been remembered by such a remarkable person filled her with an unexpected warmth.

"Well…..Master had spoken of you."

Mariel's heart swelled with both pride and a strange sense of honor. The fact that she had left such an impression on that mysterious figure—enough to be spoken of to his disciple—was something she hadn't expected. For a moment, she felt like that young adventurer again, standing in awe of the being who had saved her.

"I see," Mariel finally said, her voice steadier now, though the weight of the revelation still lingered. "It's been a long time."

Lucavion nodded, his smile never fading. "Indeed it has."