Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra-Chapter 569: Deal

Draven rubbed his temple, shaking off the lingering weight of Lucavion's bloodlust. But even as the tension in the room eased, his mind was already working. Calculating.

Can he really kill Aldric?

That question lodged itself in Draven's mind, unwilling to leave.

And he knew why.

He had read Lucavion's file before.

The Cloud Heavens Sect had shoved it into his hands when they first approached him for the assassination request. At the time, he had barely skimmed through it—thinking it was just another grudge they wanted settled. Some rogue swordsman who had pissed off the wrong people.

But now? Now the details resurfaced in his mind clearly.

Draven narrowed his eyes slightly, fingers tapping against the table. "Tell me something, Lucavion."

Lucavion raised a brow, waiting.

Draven leaned forward slightly. "Can you really kill him?"

Lucavion's smirk didn't fade, but there was something more amused in his expression now. "You sound doubtful."

Draven exhaled through his nose. "I remember your name." His gray eyes sharpened. "And I remember what I read about you."

Lucavion tilted his head, saying nothing.

Draven continued. "At the time, Cloud Heavens Sect came to me with a request. And in that request was a file." His voice lowered slightly. "One that described you."

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Lucavion chuckled, resting his chin against his knuckles. "Oh? I didn't know I was so famous."

Draven ignored the remark. His voice was measured. "It said you bested Varen Drakov."

Finally, Lucavion blinked.

A small flicker of something passed through his expression—too fast to catch, but Draven saw it.

"So you read that," Lucavion mused, his voice still smooth.

Draven smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Of course I did. Varen Drakov. The rising prodigy of the Silver Flame Sect." He exhaled sharply. "One of the so-called 'Rising Dragons.' And in the Vendor Martial Tournament finals, you beat him."

Lucavion's smirk twitched slightly, but he said nothing.

Draven tapped the table once. "It said you won convincingly."

Silence stretched for a moment before Lucavion finally sighed, tilting his head. "Well… it wasn't that convincing."

Draven scoffed, shaking his head. "And it wasn't just Varen Drakov." He tilted his head slightly, watching Lucavion's reaction. "Everyone knew how you humiliated your opponents in that tournament. Lira Vaelan didn't escape that fate either."

Lucavion's smirk twitched, just slightly.

Draven exhaled sharply. "You made her disappear. Last I heard, Lira doesn't even show her face in public anymore. Word is, she went into seclusion after that match." He tilted his glass slightly. "Rumor has it, she's too ashamed to step into the arena again."

Lucavion let out a quiet chuckle. "Ah… Lira." He rolled the name over his tongue like an old memory, his smirk turning faintly amused.

Draven narrowed his eyes. "What, you proud of that?"

Lucavion exhaled, resting his chin against his knuckles. "I did what I could."

Draven clicked his tongue. "Hmph. I'm not here to condone you. Nor am I in any position to." He leaned back, crossing his arms. "But that doesn't mean I won't ask the question that matters."

Lucavion tilted his head slightly, waiting.

Draven's gaze sharpened.

"You were a 4-star Awakened, not even a year ago." His voice was low, controlled, but there was something weighty behind it. "And now, you're claiming you can kill a 6-star?"

He let the silence stretch for a moment, letting the words sink in.

Lucavion's smirk didn't waver. If anything, it grew sharper, his black eyes gleaming with something undisturbed.

"It doesn't look convincing?" he mused, tilting his head slightly, as if genuinely curious.

Draven exhaled through his nose, rubbing his jaw. "No," he admitted bluntly. "It doesn't."

Lucavion chuckled, resting one elbow against the table. "Then, tell me, Draven—what rank do you think I am right now?"

Draven narrowed his eyes.

He studied Lucavion carefully, this time with full intent.

At first glance, the man didn't feel overwhelmingly powerful. He wasn't radiating an oppressive aura, wasn't letting his mana spill out carelessly like some arrogant noble trying to flaunt his strength. If anything, he seemed controlled, contained.

But that was exactly the problem.

Draven himself was a 5-star Awakened. He had been for years, and he knew the way power worked. Normally, a 5-star could sense another's rank just by reading their mana signature—by the way it moved, by the density, the weight of it in the air.

But with Lucavion?

He couldn't see anything.

Not at the start of their meeting.

Not even now.

It was like looking at a void.

Draven's fingers drummed against the wood. This wasn't normal. Even if Lucavion had improved over the past year, it still wouldn't explain this absence.

And most importantly—

Draven clenched his jaw slightly as a memory flashed in his mind.

That moment earlier, when Lucavion had released his bloodlust.

For that single, terrifying instant, he had felt as if—

As if his own head was about to roll.

Draven had faced plenty of killers before. He had fought men stronger than himself, had clashed with monsters in human skin who enjoyed the thrill of slaughter. But none of them had made his breath hitch the way Lucavion did.

And now, this bastard was sitting here, asking him what rank he thought he was?

Draven exhaled slowly, fingers tightening around his glass.

"...Tch." His smirk returned, but it was laced with something tense. "You bastard."

Lucavion chuckled, resting his chin against his hand. "You can't tell, can you?"

Draven didn't answer.

But Lucavion already knew.

His smirk deepened. "Then, Draven—what does that tell you?"

Draven exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "This is absurd."

Lucavion chuckled, his smirk never faltering. "You're free to believe what you want." He tilted his head slightly, his black eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "But if I didn't have the capability…" He let the words hang in the air before finishing smoothly, "I wouldn't have come here."

Draven's fingers stilled against the wood.

For a long moment, he just looked at Lucavion.

Really looked.

And the more he studied him, the less sense this all made.

Lucavion wasn't normal—that much was clear. His control, his presence, the way he carried himself with such effortless confidence.

Draven had walked into this room knowing he was one of the strongest men in Varenthia. A 5-star Awakened. And just to remind himself—

A 5-star Awakened was not average.

It was more than just another step up in power.

It was a threshold.

The point where an individual stopped being just a strong warrior and became a force. The kind of fighter who could take on dozens, even hundreds of trained men alone. The kind who could tip the balance of a battlefield.

And Draven was one of them.

One of the strongest in this city.

And yet—

When he had stepped into the room earlier, expecting at least a reaction from Lucavion, the bastard hadn't even flinched.

Not even a twitch.

Most people, when they stood before someone of Draven's caliber, showed something. A flicker of unease, a second of hesitation. A small, instinctive shift that acknowledged, this man is dangerous.

Lucavion?

Nothing.

It wasn't arrogance. It wasn't overconfidence.

It was certainty.

Draven exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "Tch."

Lucavion chuckled. "Something wrong?"

Draven shot him a look. "You really expect me to just believe you jumped from a 4-star to a 6-star in under a year?"

Lucavion's smirk deepened. "You tell me, Draven." His black eyes gleamed. "What do you think?"

Draven exhaled heavily, shaking his head. "Whatever."

This guy…

From the way he carried himself, the way he spoke, the way he didn't even consider failure—it was clear.

Lucavion was crazy.

And yet—

That was exactly why Draven liked him.

"You're fucking crazy," Draven muttered, leaning back in his chair. "If you really think you can take all of them alone."

Lucavion chuckled, his smirk lazy, almost amused. "I'm not that crazy."

Draven raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Could've fooled me."

Lucavion met his gaze, his black eyes sharp and calculating. "But in the face of a common enemy…" He let the words hang, the weight of them settling between them.

"You do know what to do, don't you?"

Draven's smirk returned.

He had already been looking for a way to deal with the Black Veil.

And now?

Now, an opportunity had walked straight into his bar, sat across from him, and offered itself.

How could he possibly let it go to waste?

Draven leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, his smirk mirroring Lucavion's.

"Tch." He exhaled through his nose.

"You really are a bastard," he muttered. "But I like the way you think."