Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

In the quiet confines of the inn where the Cloud Heavens Sect was staying, a tense, simmering anger filled the air. The disciples gathered, each one silent but visibly brimming with frustration, their expressions dark as they recounted the events with Lucavion. His mocking refusal and open disdain had been nothing short of a slap in the face—not just to Zerah, but to the sect as a whole.

And the way how he had humiliated one of their disciples like that in the fight where everyone was watching? That was basically a challenge!

Several disciples exchanged glances, their hands clenched into fists, while a few paced the room, muttering bitterly under their breaths. Each of them wanted nothing more than to teach that arrogant rogue a lesson he wouldn't forget. To have their revered sect insulted so openly was an unforgivable offense, a challenge that demanded retribution.

"He thinks he's untouchable," one disciple growled, his fists trembling. "Just because he has some skill doesn't mean he's invincible. A lesson needs to be taught."

Another disciple nodded, her voice low but laced with anger. "And to humiliate our Senior Disciple like that... the arrogance of it. He should be shown what real power looks like."

Zerah sat at the head of the room, her gaze steely as she listened, each word from her disciples feeding the smoldering resentment within her. Lucavion's mocking face, his scornful words, replayed in her mind like a wound that refused to heal. She was determined to make him pay, to restore the honor he had tainted. But her face betrayed none of this; she remained composed, if only outwardly.

One disciple leaned forward, voice filled with simmering frustration. "Sister Zerah. Why are we not acting…. No one will even know it was us—"

But before he could finish, a cough from the doorway cut through the tension, silencing the room. Elder Xue, a woman of imposing calm and wisdom, entered, her presence enough to command respect and quiet the disciples. She met each of their gazes in turn, her eyes sharp, missing nothing of the lingering resentment.

"Enough," she said, her voice soft but unyielding. "The Cloud Heavens Sect does not act rashly, not even in matters of pride." Her gaze settled on Zerah, who straightened under the weight of her elder's scrutiny. "You are disciples of our sect, each of you is held to the highest standard. Do not allow this rogue's arrogance to drag you down to his level."

The disciples exchanged frustrated glances, but Elder Xue's authority was absolute. None dared to contradict her.

"But Elder Xue," one of the disciples ventured cautiously, "he has disrespected us in front of the entire tournament. How can we let him walk away without consequence?"

Elder Xue's faint smile held a touch of cold amusement as she continued, her voice smooth and composed. "That arrogant animal is already facing his consequences, don't worry," she murmured, her words laced with satisfaction. "By now, he'll be spending tonight on the cold earth, right where he belongs."

At this, several disciples exchanged knowing glances, smirking as they understood the Elder's meaning. This tactic was an old one, a subtle punishment they often employed to remind those who dared cross the Cloud Heavens Sect of their place. Humiliating Lucavion with discomfort was a small start, though hardly satisfying for the bitterness simmering in their chests.

But as if reading their thoughts, Elder Xue's expression turned more serious, her gaze steely. "Of course, this is only the beginning," she continued, her voice soft yet laced with the promise of retribution. "Our esteemed guest will be facing much more than an uncomfortable night as we progress. I have my ways, and they will leave an impression."

Hearing this, the disciples' morale surged, their anger subsiding as anticipation replaced it. The Elder was always as precise as she was formidable, and her words carried the weight of their collective honor. The small grin that tugged at the corners of Zerah's mouth echoed the sentiment of her fellow disciples, each of them seeming to breathe a little easier at the prospect of Lucavion receiving the punishment they felt he so richly deserved.

Elder Xue's gaze swept the room, her eyes narrowing as she took in their responses. "Now, enough of this distraction. I expect each of you to focus fully on the tournament ahead. No further mistakes or oversights like we saw today will be tolerated," she continued, her voice unyielding. "And as for your evenings..."

She paused, her gaze hardening into a glare that seemed to slice through the disciples. "There will be no outings until the tournament concludes. I want each of you here, and if I catch even one of you outside these walls, I will personally break every bone in your body. Is that understood?"

The disciples stiffened at the severity of her tone, and a few of them exchanged uneasy glances, their earlier satisfaction fading into frustration. Elder Xue's restrictions hit hard; many of them were already accustomed to spending their nights out, indulging in the "fun" they had grown reliant on. A few of them huffed in irritation, clearly displeased by the sudden limitations.

But no one dared voice a complaint. Elder Xue's gaze left no room for disobedience. Instead, the disciples straightened, nodding in reluctant acceptance, the prospect of crossing her far more intimidating than any restriction.

In the end, they could only swallow their anger and hold back.

*********

The night was still, the dim glow of lanterns casting long shadows along the quiet halls of the Silver Flame Sect's quarters. Elder Kael sat on a stone bench just outside, his gaze turned upward to the night sky, lost in thought. Beside him, Varen leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, his expression serious as he mulled over the events of the day.

"He's skilled," Kael remarked, breaking the silence, his tone thoughtful. "That much is certain. A blade honed not just by talent, but by experience. It's not often we see someone who carries that kind of refinement at his age."

Varen nodded, though his jaw tightened. "Skill alone doesn't make a martial artist," he said, a note of distaste in his voice. "The way he carries himself… there's arrogance there. The type that doesn't suit someone who claims to be a warrior."

Kael glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Arrogance often accompanies talent. And Lucavion isn't just talented. His blade moves with purpose, tempered by something beyond training. He has seen real battles and faced real danger. I would call that earned confidence, not mere arrogance."

Varen frowned, shaking his head. "Confidence, yes, but he flaunts it. You saw the way he taunted that girl, made a spectacle of her weakness. It wasn't just skill—it was prideful and unnecessary." His eyes narrowed as he recalled the fight, the condescending smile that had played on Lucavion's lips as he toyed with Kara. "A martial artist should respect his opponent, not mock them."

Kael considered this, his gaze distant. "Perhaps. But there is a certain strength in his presence. Arrogance or not, he commands attention and makes people stop and watch. And if that confidence serves him well in battle, then it's an asset."

Varen's expression hardened, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. "An asset only until it turns into recklessness. He underestimates his opponents and uses them as a means to display his skill. That kind of arrogance—it'll be his downfall if he's not careful."

Kael let out a low chuckle. "Is that so? Or perhaps it's precisely that boldness that makes him dangerous. He doesn't hesitate, doesn't hold back. There is power in certainty, Varen. Sometimes, tempering that fire can dull its edge."

Varen's gaze remained unwavering, his tone resolute. "Even fire can consume itself if left unchecked. If he truly thinks he can fight with such arrogance, he'll find his limits soon enough. Skill alone isn't everything."
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Kael watched him, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "I see he's already left quite the impression on you, Varen."

Varen's eyes narrowed, his voice firm. "He's skilled, yes. More skilled than most here, even. But I believe a martial artist should strive for more than just victory. There's a discipline that he lacks. If he were to meet an opponent who didn't rise to his taunts, who remained unyielding… then he'd find his arrogance turned against him."

Kael leaned back, nodding slowly. "You may be right. But if he's as experienced as his blade suggests, then perhaps he'll recognize that limit when he reaches it." He glanced at Varen, his expression contemplative. "And who knows? Perhaps you'll be the one to show him that discipline, to temper that arrogance of his."

Varen's jaw tightened, his gaze distant as he considered the challenge that lay ahead. "If I get the chance," he said quietly, determination lacing his voice, "I'll make sure he learns that there's more to being a warrior than just skill. Strength should be accompanied by respect. Only then does it truly mean something."

Kael chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. "Then make it a lesson worth remembering, should your paths cross. But don't underestimate him. He's not one to be taken lightly."

"I will not."

"That is good. And whether you like his arrogance or not, in the end, he had also taught those…..them a lesson. Which makes him on our side…."

"While that is indeed true, it makes me wonder if he has a reason for doing all this? For me, my anger is justified, but for his way of acting, I don't understand."

"That….That is something that we will find sooner or later, don't worry."

"I understand, Elder."

The two fell into silence once more, each lost in thought as the quiet of the night settled around them. Lucavion had left his mark on both their minds, a presence that neither of them could dismiss. And as the tournament continued, both Kael and Varen knew that this rising star was bound to test not just his own limits, but theirs as well.