Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Chapter 125: Alric

[If you stare into the abyss long enough, the abyss stares back.]

Vitaliara said quietly, her tone more solemn now. [The more one delves into acts of destruction and harm, the stronger the abyss clings to them. It's not just about power—it's about the nature of that power. Those who accumulate bad karma, those who revel in the suffering of others, tend to carry the imprint of the abyss within them.]

The concept hit me hard. Korvan hadn't just been strong—he had been consumed by the very darkness he embraced. And now, I was absorbing that darkness.

Vitaliara's gaze softened slightly as she continued. [I can sense it in people, you know. Those who have accumulated too much bad karma… there's something about their aura. It's tainted. The world remembers their actions, and it imprints on them like a shadow that never fades.]

"You can see it?" I asked, my voice tinged with surprise. Vitaliara had never mentioned this before. The idea that she could sense something so profound, so invisible to most, caught me off guard.

She didn't answer immediately, but when she did, it was with a knowing smirk, her tail flicking in amusement. [I wouldn't say I can 'see' it in the literal sense,] she replied, her tone light but firm. [I'm a mythical beast of life, after all. What I can sense is far more… nuanced. I can't discern evil from good the way you might think, but I can feel the energy associated with the abyss.

Those who have steeped themselves in it, who've let it seep into their souls—they carry its imprint.]

I stared at her, absorbing what she said. "So, you can sense anyone linked to the abyss?"

[In a way, yes,] she said, her smirk softening into something more thoughtful. [It's not as simple as good and evil, though. Life and death are intertwined, and it's about balance. Those who embrace the abyss tilt that balance, and their energy becomes… different. I can feel that shift.]

Her words stirred something within me. If Vitaliara, as a being tied to life, could sense those who were touched by the abyss, then what about me? I had a unique condition—a bond with both life and death through my Flame of Equinox. If I could harness it more fully and refine my control over both death energy and vitality, couldn't I do the same?

The thought rolled through my mind, a quiet whisper of possibility. "If that's the case… wouldn't I be able to sense it too?" I mumbled, almost to myself, my thoughts taking shape as I spoke. "With enough control over my Flame of Equinox, over the balance of death and life energy, I should be able to detect the abyss' imprint as well."

Vitaliara's ears perked up at my words, her gaze sharpening with curiosity. [Hmm… It's not out of the realm of possibility,] she mused. [Your connection to both death and life makes you different. If you master that balance, it's very possible you could develop that ability. But you'll have to be careful. Not everything that you see will be helpful for you.]

I nodded slowly, the idea settling deeper in my mind. "I'll need to push my control further."

But for the time being, there was one thing else that I needed to do.

"Though there is one thing left."

One of the lieutenants of the Korvan was now trying to run away.

I rose slowly from my position, feeling the lingering death mana settle into my core as I steadied myself. The faint warmth of the healing potion still coursed through my veins, numbing some of the worst of the pain, but I wasn't fully healed yet. That didn't matter. There was one last thing that needed to be done.

My eyes narrowed as I sent a small pulse of mana into the wind, letting it carry out across the battlefield. It wasn't long before I felt it respond, like a ripple returning to its source, guiding me. A faint silhouette appeared in my mind—a person moving swiftly, too fast for a normal human. I didn't need to guess who it was.

"Alric," I muttered, a grim smile tugging at the corners of my lips. The vice-captain of Korvan's bandits was trying to flee, but he wouldn't get far.

The wind whispered his direction to me, confirming what I already knew. Alric had always been quick, always one step ahead of his enemies, but now he was the prey. And I was the hunter.

Vitaliara's eyes flicked toward me, sensing the shift in my demeanor. [He's running, isn't he?] she asked, her voice calm but expectant.

"He is," I replied, my gaze locking onto the distant horizon. "But he won't escape."

With a deep breath, I felt the mana gather at my feet.

A footwork technique that Master had left behind for me. A Qinggong movement technique.

?Devourer of Stars. Astral Step.?

The familiar sensation of the technique surged through me. In an instant, I moved—swift and silent, the wind bending to my will as I closed the distance between myself and my prey.

*******

The moment Korvan received the news that the boy Ron had disappeared, he stormed through the corridors of his hideout, his fury building with every step. The moment he reached the room where Ron was supposed to be held, he saw the empty space; something inside him had snapped. The boy was gone. Their insurance—vanished. It was all too clear now: they'd been played.

"There's a traitor," Korvan muttered under his breath, his voice barely controlled. His eyes gleamed with murderous intent as he marched toward the heart of his base. "One of our own fouled everything."

As he approached the main chamber that overlooked the battlefield, Korvan's mind raced. It was a perfect setup, he realized. The boy's disappearance wasn't just an unfortunate event—it had been orchestrated. Someone within his own ranks had betrayed him, and now they were facing the consequences.

He burst into the room where his remaining lieutenant, Alric, was standing calmly by a large window overlooking the battle that was still raging below.

"Alric!" Korvan snarled, his voice echoing through the chamber. "The boy—he's gone. There's a traitor in our ranks!"

Korvan's fury was palpable, his eyes blazing as he barked orders to Alric. "Find the boy," he snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "Now. We need him as leverage. If we lose him, this entire game falls apart."

Alric nodded without a word, his calm demeanor never wavering. He understood the gravity of the situation better than anyone. Korvan's rage was a force of nature, but Alric had always been the one who thought three steps ahead. He could feel the weight of the noose tightening around their necks. This wasn't just a raid—this was a well-coordinated attack, a plan months in the making.

And they had walked right into it.

Korvan turned, his eyes gleaming ominously in the dim light of the chamber. "I'll handle those bastards myself," he growled, his voice filled with vengeful determination. "They'll know who they're messing with." Without waiting for a response, Korvan stormed out of the room, his heavy footsteps echoing through the stone halls as he made his way toward the battlefield.

Alric watched him go, his mind racing. As soon as Korvan disappeared from sight, Alric turned on his heel and slipped silently from the chamber, moving with the grace and precision of the assassin he once was. His task was clear, but his thoughts were already several steps ahead. He would find the boy, but not just for Korvan.

Moving swiftly through the shadows, Alric made his way out of the hideout and into the dense jungle that surrounded the base. The air was thick with tension, the sounds of battle ringing out in the distance. Alric crouched low, his senses sharpening as he began his hunt. His eyes flickered across the forest floor, searching for any sign of a trail.

Alric was not like the others; he was never the brute force that Korvan could throw at his enemies.

Alric was a strategist—a former assassin who had turned to Korvan's side after narrowly escaping his previous life. And now, as Korvan's right-hand man, Alric had become indispensable, not because of raw strength but because of his craftiness.

That is why, being a former assassin, Alric had honed his skills in tracking. He knew how to read the subtle signs—the disturbed leaves, the broken branches, the faint traces of movement in the underbrush. He followed the trail with precision, moving like a shadow through the jungle, his breath steady and controlled.

But as he tracked the boy, Alric's mind worked through the larger picture. The attack was too well-timed, too organized. Whoever was behind it had clearly planned every move, which meant they likely had a counter for Korvan as well. Alric knew Korvan's strength—he was a peak 3-star Awakened, nearly invincible in close combat. But even Korvan had his limits.

If they were attacking now, it was because they had something—or someone—who could deal with him.

Alric's lips curled into a grim smile. Korvan was walking into a trap, and he likely didn't even realize it. The realization hit Alric hard: Korvan would be defeated. Whether by Roderick's forces or someone stronger, the outcome was becoming clear. And if Korvan fell, everything would collapse. The bandits would scatter, and the power they had built would crumble.

For Alric, it meant only one thing: survival. He would not die for Korvan's arrogance.

His decision was made. He needed the boy, not just to help Korvan but to secure his own escape. With Ron in his hands, he had leverage. Leverage to barter for his freedom, to negotiate with whoever won this battle. Alric wasn't a fool—he knew how the game was played, and he always made sure to be on the winning side.