Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra - Chapter 542

Chapter 542: Sigh….
Thaddeus exhaled, letting the silence of the room settle after Lysander’s departure.

But it did not last long.

Edran shifted slightly, his arms crossing over his broad chest. His sharp blue eyes flickered with something uncertain before he finally spoke.

“My lord… is this really okay?” His tone was careful, but his hesitation was clear. “That old man is a bit…”

He trailed off, searching for the right word.

Thaddeus gave him a dry look. “Difficult?”

Edran exhaled sharply. “That’s putting it lightly.”

Doran was an oddball among knights, to put it mildly. A man who spoke in riddles when he wasn’t outright ignoring people. A veteran whose reputation was equal parts brilliance and pure eccentricity.

Doran’s eccentricity was not just a matter of personality—it was a consequence of something far graver.

Once, he had been revered, a knight among knights, a strategist whose mind worked three steps ahead of anyone else on the battlefield. His brilliance was undeniable. That was, until the day he pushed himself too far.

The battle had been dire. Outnumbered, cornered, no chance for reinforcements. Victory had demanded something beyond the ordinary. And so, he had done the unthinkable—he forced himself into [Overdrive].

A technique only whispered about, its consequences too severe for any rational mage to attempt. The process was simple in theory but lethal in execution: draw out every last ounce of mana from the core, push past natural limits, force the body into a state where it functioned at a heightened capacity beyond what it was ever meant to sustain.

But mana was not an endless well. It had structure, a core that stabilized its flow within the body. Crack that core, and it would be like breaking the foundation of a dam—what was once controlled would flood, uncontrolled, unrestrained.

And that was exactly what happened to Doran.

His mana core cracked. Not shattered, but fractured enough that every breath of mana that passed through him brought agony beyond words. He had survived, barely, but from that day forward, his power was a double-edged sword. He could still wield mana, but each use felt like driving shards of glass through his veins.

He had retired soon after. Officially, it was framed as an honorable withdrawal, the exit of a veteran who had done his duty. But those who knew better understood the truth—Doran had been forced out, deemed unstable, unpredictable. A warrior who could no longer wield his full strength was a liability in the eyes of those who only valued results.

Thaddeus knew this. And yet, he also knew that if there was anyone in this world who could teach Aeliana to wield overwhelming power, it was him.

Edran exhaled through his nose, crossing his arms as he shook his head. “You’re throwing Lady Aeliana to that old man?” His tone was cautious, but not outright rejecting the idea. “Doran’s not exactly… conventional.”

Thaddeus turned his golden gaze toward Edran, his expression unreadable. A heavy silence settled between them before the Duke finally spoke.

“Are you questioning my authority, Edran?” His voice was quiet, measured—but there was weight behind it. A warning.

Edran held his ground but bowed his head respectfully. “Never, my lord.” His voice remained steady, unwavering. “But if I may speak freely—Sir Doran is not the man he once was. You know this better than anyone.”

Thaddeus leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping once against the desk before steepling together. His sharp eyes never left Edran. “And that is exactly why he is the only one suited for this.”

Edran exhaled through his nose, a silent acknowledgment that the Duke’s mind had already been made. Still, he had to try. “That old man doesn’t teach. He tests. Pushes until he finds the breaking point, just to see what’s on the other side.”

Thaddeus allowed himself a dry chuckle. “And you think my father would be any kinder?”

At that, Edran’s jaw tightened. He had no response for that—because they both knew the answer.

The Duke exhaled, rubbing his temple. “I know Doran best. He may be grumpy. He may be eccentric. But he will temper Aeliana into something greater. He is better than my father.”

There was nothing more to say.

Edran gave a short nod, accepting the decision.

Just then, a knock at the door.

Thaddeus flicked his gaze toward it. “Enter.”

The door swung open, revealing Lysander, the ever-composed head butler of the household. But this time, he was not alone. Beside him stood a young maid, her posture stiff, her hands clenched together in front of her apron.

Thaddeus raised an eyebrow. “Lysander.” His voice was expectant. “What is the meaning of this?”

The butler bowed his head slightly before speaking. “My lord… Lady Aeliana.” He paused, as if carefully selecting his next words. “She is not in the mansion.”

Thaddeus’ gaze sharpened. “What?”

Lysander remained impassive. “It appears she left with Mister Lucavion. The two of them were seen getting into a carriage.”

For a brief moment, the room was silent.

Then Thaddeus narrowed his eyes. “She left with Lucavion?”

The young maid beside Lysander stiffened. The butler gave her a slight nudge forward.

The girl swallowed hard before hesitantly stepping forward, bowing deeply. “M-my l-lord…” Her voice wavered, but she forced herself to continue. “I—I am the one attending to Mister Lucavion during his stay… and I—I saw Lady Aeliana leave with him.”

The Duke’s expression remained unreadable, but his golden eyes darkened.

“Lucavion…” he murmured, his fingers once again tapping against the desk.

Edran, who had remained silent, finally exhaled. “Shall I send knights after them?”

Thaddeus didn’t answer immediately. He sat there, weighing something unseen.

Then, at last, he spoke.

“No. Not yet.”

A slow, knowing smile curled at the edge of Thaddeus’ lips.

Perhaps this wasn’t entirely a mistake.

His daughter… she had always been resourceful, even when she was younger. Reckless, yes, but never thoughtless. If she had left with Lucavion, it meant she had her own reasons. Perhaps she intended to test something. Or to gain something.

‘If nothing else… this will show me just how much she’s grown.’

He leaned back in his chair, his golden eyes gleaming under the dim candlelight. “As long as they return before midnight,” he said, his voice calm, measured, “send no one after them.”

The tension in the room shifted. Edran, who had been ready to move at a moment’s notice, exhaled through his nose. He wasn’t surprised—he knew Thaddeus well enough to expect this response.

And he also knew Lucavion.

The boy was trouble. But not incompetent. If anyone could keep Aeliana from harm, it would be him.

“I see,” Edran muttered, crossing his arms. “Then I won’t waste men chasing after them.”

Thaddeus gave a curt nod.

But his smile faded.

His fingers curled into a fist against the desk.

Aeliana hadn’t informed him. Not even a single word.

Neither had Lucavion.

That damned reckless boy.

“Sigh…”

His jaw tightened slightly. It wasn’t the leaving that angered him—it was the audacity of leaving without a word. Without permission. Without a single consideration for the fact that their actions would reach him eventually.

Lucavion he could expect this from. The boy had always been… independent to a fault.

But Aeliana?

She should have known better.

His fingers tapped against the desk once more, slower this time.

“You need a bit of a scolding it seems, my daughter.”