Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra - Chapter 630

Chapter 630: Protagonist, and new identity

The rooftop remained hushed in Eveline’s absence, the frost she left behind slowly fading under the soft kiss of morning light. Elara took a step back from the edge, exhaling a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

The moment was still—until the shimmer of teleportation magic pulsed again behind her.

Cedric stepped through, his boots crunching softly on the frost-rimed stone. He looked different. The weeks apart had hardened something in his eyes, yet when he saw her, the familiar furrow of concern appeared all the same.

“Elara,” he said, his voice quiet but steady.

“Cedric.” She turned toward him with a slight nod, the steel in her posture unchanged. She expected words—maybe questions. But before either could speak further, another pulse of magic flickered between them.

And just like that, Eveline returned.

She appeared mid-step, her hat settling into place as if it had never moved. This time, she carried something in her hand: a small, intricately carved box of obsidian inlaid with thin bands of starlight silver. With a flick of her finger, the box clicked open.

Inside were two rings.

They shimmered with enchantments so dense that even Elara, whose senses were well-trained, could barely follow the web of spells within. One ring was a deep cobalt band engraved with a twisting ivy motif. The other, a sleek silver with a single frost-blue gem that pulsed like a heartbeat.

“Catch,” Eveline said lazily, tossing them with a flick of her wrist.

Cedric caught his with a soft grunt, while Elara snagged hers in silence.

“Put them on,” Eveline instructed, eyes glinting. “They’ll do more than look pretty.”

Elara eyed the ring warily, then slipped it onto her finger.

The change was immediate.

She felt it before she saw it—the soft ripple of illusion magic cascading over her skin like a second cloak. Her limbs elongated slightly. Her eyes, reflected faintly in a nearby frost-covered pane, were no longer their usual piercing gray-blue, but a rich hazel, flecked with gold. Her hair darkened into a shade of deep chestnut, cascading in softer waves than her usual strict braid. Even her voice, she noticed when she inhaled, had shifted—just subtly, enough to change pitch and tone.

Cedric muttered a quiet curse under his breath, startled by his own transformation. His hair had turned a muted ash brown, his features more angular, his usual knightly bearing replaced with something looser—a duelist’s ease, not a noble’s stiffness.

“I feel… weird,” he said, adjusting the collar of his tunic. “Like I’m not myself.”

“You’re not,” Eveline said crisply. “That’s the point.”

She clasped her hands behind her back, pacing a few steps as her tone shifted into something instructive. “You two will be attending the academy under new identities. The capital may have changed on the surface, but its memory runs deep. I don’t intend for either of you to be dragged into noble politics before you’re ready to bite back.”

Elara’s brows furrowed. “And who exactly are we supposed to be?”

Eveline turned on her heel, raising a hand with dramatic flair. “You, Elara, will be known as Elowyn Caerlin, the heir of a minor barony from the coastlands of the Caedrim Reach. Newly ennobled, recently returned from an extended arcane apprenticeship in isolation. Elegant. Distant. Dangerous.”

Elara’s eyes narrowed slightly. “So… me.”

Eveline smirked. “With better hair.”

Cedric cleared his throat. “And me?”

“You,” Eveline said, pointing a gloved finger at him, “will be Reilan Dorne—your father is supposedly a decorated war captain, retired to his vineyards. You’re his prodigious son, trained in both sword and strategy. Competitive, proud, prone to making poor decisions when your friends are threatened.”

Cedric blinked. “That’s… not much of a disguise.”

“It’s not meant to hide your personality,” Eveline replied dryly. “Just your blood.”

Elara looked down at her hands, now thinner, softer in appearance. “And how long will we be like this?”

“The illusion is anchored to the ring. As long as you wear it, the spell will remain stable. Remove it, and you’ll revert.” Eveline’s voice grew more serious. “The disguise is more than vanity. It will protect you. From recognition. From unwanted questions. From people who would rather see you fail before you’ve even begun.”

Elara nodded slowly. Cedric, too, adjusted his gloves with a resigned breath.

Eveline stepped toward them, her shadow long across the rooftop.

“This is your entry into their world,” she said. “But don’t let them pull you into their pace. Make them dance to yours.”

She held out the obsidian box one last time, then vanished it with a flick of her fingers.

“Arcania will try to break you,” Eveline murmured, almost to herself. “Just don’t let it convince you you’re already broken.”

Then she turned, the frost whispering beneath her steps as she moved toward the rooftop’s edge.

The sky above them cracked with golden light as the city stirred to life—its gears turning, its illusions spinning.

******

The soft rumble of the carriage wheels echoed faintly within the cabin, a rhythm steady as her heartbeat, though she wasn’t sure if it was calmness or unease pulsing through her chest.

Valeria sat with her back straight against the padded interior wall, her hands resting loosely over her knees. Not because she wished to, but because that was the posture expected. Her armor had been left behind—her sword, too—replaced by formal attire her family had deemed “appropriate” for the entrance of a student to the Imperial Arcanis Academy.

She had argued for a horse.

But knights did not argue with family. They obeyed.

Outside, the capital unfolded like a dream tempered by reason. Stone bled into crystal. Towers spiraled and twisted in defiance of logic. Magic pulsed in the veins of the city like lifeblood beneath translucent skin. She watched it pass from behind the carriage’s reinforced window, the enchanted glass flickering slightly each time a leyline pulsed near.

Her thoughts were quiet, but they were not still.

“…So this is the capital,” her attendant said from across the cabin, his voice low, cautious. He was older than her by nearly twenty years—once a knight himself, now something quieter. He wore simple clothes, plain traveling greys with a faded crest of the Olarion house etched into the hem.

Valeria didn’t respond at first.

Her eyes tracked a group of street performers floating midair, their instruments suspended by intricate gravity runes. Children ran beneath them, laughing, while automaton knights kept slow vigil at every junction.

It was beautiful.

But beauty often came with a price.

Finally, she spoke, her tone neutral but firm. “It’s excessive.”

The attendant didn’t look surprised. “Yes,” he murmured, “but excess is what they trade in here. Power must be seen, not just spoken.”

She gave a small nod, then returned her gaze to the window. In the distance, the Spiral Nexus loomed, coiling toward the heavens like the blade of a spear meant to pierce the sky itself.

Her fingers, bare of gauntlets for the first time in years, curled slightly. “It doesn’t feel real.”

“Few things here are,” her attendant replied.

For a while, they rode in silence.

The streets changed as they neared the academy. Gone were the worn cobbles of outer Arcania. Here, the roads shimmered with reactive glyphs. Carriages glided, never jolting. Banners of noble houses fluttered on high, each sigil brighter than the last. And hers—Olarion—flashed once as they passed a checkpoint, scanned and recorded without ceremony.

Valeria exhaled slowly.

“I should have ridden in,” she muttered, not hiding her distaste. “Like a soldier. Not… like this.”

“It would’ve made a statement,” her attendant agreed, “but not the one your father wanted.”

Her eyes flicked to him. “And what does he want?”

“To remind everyone,” the man said quietly, “that House Olarion is still as prestigious as ever.”

That made her huff once—dry amusement more than humor.

“Tell me, then,” she said, gaze returning to the swirling layers of the Nexus, “am I here to study… or to prove we still have standing?”

“Both,” he said. “And neither. You’re here because the Empire is watching.”

A beat.

Then, softer: “And because you earned it.”

That was something that she couldn’t say much to….