Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

As the arena hummed with anticipation, Varen Drakov stepped forward, his fiery presence casting a subtle heat into the already charged air. His eyes locked onto Lucavion, who stood with a posture so relaxed it bordered on insolent. The unaffiliated swordsman tilted his head slightly, his smirk curling into something sharper, almost mocking.

"Ready?" Lucavion asked, his voice light and playful, as though the match was a trivial amusement. He raised his blade slightly, the light glinting off its edge. "Should I go easy on you?"

Varen's eyes narrowed, his grip on his greatsword tightening. His voice cut through the tense atmosphere, cold and commanding. "Cease your words. We shall speak with our blades."

For a moment, Lucavion's smirk faltered, replaced by a flicker of something deeper—interest, perhaps even amusement. Then, it widened into a grin that was far more unhinged, a flash of teeth that carried a hint of madness. His aura shifted, growing darker, sharper, as though he had been waiting for this exact moment.

"Talking with swords…" Lucavion murmured, his voice low and almost reverent. His head tilted further, his expression teetering on the edge of something feral. "Who would have thought I'd hear that from someone else?"

With a deliberate slowness, Lucavion drew his blade, its steel gleaming with an almost ethereal sheen. The air around it seemed to distort faintly, a whisper of something otherworldly emanating from the edge. He twirled the blade once, the motion casual yet precise, and then pointed it toward Varen.

"If this is what you want," he said, his voice laced with mockery and excitement, "then I must comply, mustn't I?"

Varen's fiery aura surged in response, his stance firm as he raised his greatsword, its blade igniting with a silvery-red glow. The clash of their auras sent a ripple through the arena, the protective enchantments shimmering as they strained to contain the sheer force of the two warriors.

Lucavion's grin remained, his eyes alight with something dangerous. "Come, heir of the Silver Flame. Let's see if your flames can scorch the demon."

Varen didn't respond, his fiery mana flaring as he surged forward, his greatsword cleaving through the air with deadly intent. Lucavion stepped to meet him, his blade rising to intercept with a speed that defied logic.

The clash of their blades echoed like a thunderclap, the arena trembling under the weight of their first exchange. Sparks flew, fire and shadow intertwining in a deadly dance as the crowd erupted into a frenzy.

The battle had begun, and neither warrior intended to hold anything back.

*******

The clash began with a thunderous roar, Varen's greatsword cleaving downward in a diagonal arc. The silvery-red blade gleamed with fiery mana, cutting through the air with the force of a falling meteor. Lucavion leaned back just enough to avoid the edge, his body shifting with a fluid grace that spoke of instinct honed to perfection.

SWOOSH!

Lucavion's estoc darted forward, a quick thrust aimed at Varen's exposed shoulder. But Varen twisted his body, using the momentum of his missed swing to rotate his greatsword upward in a seamless arc, deflecting Lucavion's blade with a sharp clang.

The force of the parry sent Lucavion sliding back a step, but his smirk remained. "Good weight control," he remarked, spinning his estoc in his hand as he reset his stance.

Varen didn't respond, his fiery aura flaring as he stepped forward, his greatsword carving through the air in a horizontal slash. Lucavion ducked under the blade, the heat from the mana-infused strike grazing the top of his hair. He countered with a quick thrust at Varen's midsection, but Varen stepped to the side, using the weight of his greatsword to sweep it back in a brutal, low strike aimed at Lucavion's legs.

CLANG!

Lucavion's estoc met the greatsword in a downward block, the force of the collision vibrating through his arms. He slid his blade along the edge of Varen's sword, diverting the massive weapon's momentum upward, and then darted to the side, circling around his opponent.

The two fighters moved with stark contrasts. Varen's strikes were heavy and deliberate, each swing of his greatsword carrying the weight of his entire body behind it. He used his shoulders and hips to guide the blade, his movements calculated to make the most of the weapon's momentum. His stance was grounded, each step measured to maintain balance even as he unleashed devastating attacks.

Lucavion, on the other hand, was a blur of motion. He moved with an almost unnatural speed, his estoc flicking out in rapid, precise thrusts that forced Varen to stay on the defensive. His footwork was light, almost playful, his body twisting and turning as he weaved through Varen's strikes like a shadow dancing around a flame.

WHOOSH! SLAM!

Varen brought his greatsword down in a crushing overhead strike, the blade cutting through the air with a fiery glow. Lucavion sidestepped, the massive blade slamming into the ground with enough force to send shards of stone flying. Without missing a beat, Lucavion pivoted on his heel, his estoc darting toward Varen's side.

Varen shifted his grip, using the flat of his greatsword to block the thrust. The impact sent sparks flying as he twisted his weapon to trap Lucavion's blade against his own, attempting to disarm him. But Lucavion reacted instantly, twisting his estoc free with a flick of his wrist and darting backward to avoid the counterstrike.

"Impressive," Lucavion said, his voice light but carrying a hint of respect. "You handle that greatsword like it's an extension of yourself."

"And you're as irritating as I've heard," Varen replied coldly, stepping forward with a feint—his greatsword starting high before swinging low in a deceptive arc.

Lucavion saw through it, sidestepping once more and letting the blade graze past him. But Varen used the missed strike to pivot his entire body, spinning with the greatsword in a horizontal slash that forced Lucavion to lean back at an impossible angle to dodge. The blade passed mere inches from his chest, the heat of the fiery mana licking at his skin.

As Varen finished his rotation, Lucavion stepped into the opening, his estoc flashing in a quick thrust toward Varen's unguarded shoulder. But Varen, using the momentum of his spin, brought the hilt of his greatsword up to deflect the thrust, the clash of steel ringing out across the arena.

The crowd erupted into cheers as the two fighters separated briefly, their stances resetting. Both were breathing harder now, their bodies glistening with sweat as they measured each other once more.

Varen's aura flared again, the flames around his greatsword intensifying. He adjusted his grip, his knuckles tightening as he prepared for another assault. Lucavion's smirk widened, his eyes alight with excitement as he raised his estoc, his body loose and ready.

They surged toward each other, their blades meeting in a series of rapid, intricate clashes. Varen's greatsword came from high, low, and sweeping arcs, each strike carrying 'intent' and the power to shatter lesser defenses. Lucavion danced around the blows, his estoc darting in and out with precision, targeting the gaps in Varen's guard.

CLANG! SWOOSH! THRUST!

The clash continued, each strike and parry building a rhythm that resonated across the arena. Varen's focus deepened as he observed Lucavion's movements more keenly. Watching from a distance hadn't been enough to truly understand the way Lucavion fought, but now, as their blades clashed and sparks flew, the intricacies of his opponent's style became clearer.

'He doesn't commit to his attacks,' Varen thought, his mind racing as he began piecing together Lucavion's approach. 'He waits, forces his opponent to overextend, and uses precision and speed to punish them. He's toying with me, keeping me on edge… But there's no such thing as a perfect fighter.'

Lucavion's estoc darted in again, aiming for a gap near Varen's ribs. Varen twisted his body, allowing the blade to glance off the flat of his greatsword as he countered with a wide arc aimed at Lucavion's retreat. As expected, Lucavion avoided it with ease, stepping back and resetting his stance.

But this time, Varen didn't press forward. Instead, he channeled his fiery mana inward, letting it flow through his body, coiling around him like a serpent preparing to strike. His aura flared brighter, drawing gasps from the crowd as flames licked at his skin.

Lucavion noticed the change immediately, his smirk faltering for a fraction of a second. "Ah, something new?" he said lightly, though his eyes narrowed.

Without warning, Varen's head snapped forward, flames erupting from his mouth in a searing torrent. The sudden attack caught Lucavion off guard—Varen hadn't shown this move in any of his previous matches, and the unorthodox maneuver forced him into an immediate retreat.

The flames surged toward him, their intensity leaving no room for hesitation. Lucavion twisted his body, leaping to the side with a burst of speed, but the sheer force of the flames drove him into a precarious position near the arena's edge. The heat licked at his cloak, and for the first time, Lucavion's movements seemed reactive rather than controlled.

Varen didn't waste the opening. Channeling his mana into his legs, he propelled himself forward in a fiery blast, closing the gap between them in an instant. The momentum of his charge was overwhelming, his greatsword blazing as he swung it downward with the intent to end the fight in one decisive blow.

Lucavion's footing was compromised, his body off-balance from evading the flames. To the crowd, it seemed as though he had no chance of recovering in time.

But Lucavion, as always, thrived on the edge of chaos.

In a single, fluid motion, he planted his back foot and pivoted sharply, his estoc rising to meet Varen's descending blade. Using the momentum of his own rotation, Lucavion leaned into the strike, his blade connecting with Varen's greatsword at an angle that redirected the overwhelming force.

CLANG!

The impact sent a shockwave through the arena, but Lucavion used the recoil to twist his body further, spinning low as Varen's blade glanced past him. His recovery was seamless, almost impossibly smooth, as he turned the defensive maneuver into an offensive one. His estoc flashed out in a quick thrust aimed at Varen's unguarded thigh.

STAB!

The blade bit into Varen's leg, forcing him to step back with a grimace. Lucavion straightened, his smirk returning as he twirled his estoc and reset his stance.

"Clever," Lucavion said, his voice calm despite the faint singe marks on his cloak. "But it'll take more than a fire trick to catch me off guard twice."

Varen's eyes burned with fury and focus, his grip tightening on his greatsword as he adjusted his stance. He could feel the sting of Lucavion's blade in his leg, but the pain only sharpened his resolve.

The fight wasn't over—not yet. And Varen knew that if he wanted to win, he'd have to push beyond his limits.