Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra-Chapter 568: Intent

Lucavion raised an eyebrow, fingers idly tracing the rim of his glass. "What do you mean by that?" His voice was smooth, even, but there was a keen edge of curiosity behind it. "And how can you be this sure it's the man I'm looking for?"

Draven exhaled, shaking his head slightly before taking another slow sip of his drink. "Because I've seen what he can do," he muttered. "And I know exactly what kind of monster we're dealing with."

Lucavion said nothing, waiting.

Draven set his glass down, his fingers drumming once against the wood before he continued. "The organization's called The Black Veil. They weren't here a year ago. Hell, they weren't even a whisper. Then, suddenly? They started moving."

Lucavion tilted his head slightly. "Moving how?"

Draven's expression darkened. "Not the way normal factions do. They didn't negotiate, didn't bargain, didn't even try to play the game like everyone else. They just took."

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharp. "My men. The Syndicates' men. Hell, even Drazhkar-backed mercs. We've all been attacked. And not just beaten—wiped out. Trade routes that were untouchable for years? Gone. Smuggling operations that ran smooth for decades? Disappeared overnight. Customers, clients, killed."

Lucavion didn't react immediately, but his fingers tapped once against the wood. "You seem more concerned about your customers than your own men."

Draven scoffed. "Because reputation is everything in this city." He exhaled through his nose. "Men? I can replace. Fighters? I can buy. But customers? If they start believing Varenthia isn't safe to do business, then everything collapses. That's why this is dangerous. It's not just about power—it's about control."

Lucavion studied him for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. "And you've clashed with them?"

Draven nodded, his expression tight. "More than once. And I've seen it firsthand. The wind. The spear." His jaw tensed slightly.

Draven's fingers drummed against the table, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"I've seen him fight," he murmured. His voice wasn't filled with admiration or fear—just the kind of grounded respect that only came from having witnessed something firsthand. "And yeah, his name is Aldric."

Lucavion's gaze sharpened slightly, but he remained silent.

Draven exhaled, rubbing his jaw. "I tried to dig deeper. Find out more about him. But it wasn't easy." His expression tightened slightly. "Actually, it was damn near impossible."

Lucavion raised an eyebrow. "Impossible?"

Draven scoffed, shaking his head. "You know what I do, Lucavion. You know the kind of information I can get my hands on. If I need something, I can find it. Marquis families? I've got files on them. Dukedoms? Give me a few days, I'll get what I need." His gray eyes flicked up, cold and knowing.

"But when I went looking for Aldric?" He leaned back, shaking his head slightly. "Every damn lead I had got cut off. Immediately."

Lucavion's fingers tapped once against the wood. "Someone erased his past."

Draven nodded. "Exactly. I had a lead—one that should have given me something in the Arcanis Empire. But before I could act, it was gone. Shut down so cleanly, so thoroughly, that I didn't even get a whisper of where to go next. Then I was sure that, someone with serious power is covering for him."

Draven smirked, but there was no amusement in his eyes. "At that level? It's either one of the strongest Duke families…" He paused, then let the words settle.

"Or," Lucavion murmured, watching him carefully.

Draven's smirk widened just a fraction. "The Royal Family."

"Yes," Lucavion murmured.

Draven exhaled through his nose, rolling his shoulders slightly. "If this isn't the guy you're looking for," he muttered, "then I don't have any other leads for you." His gaze locked onto Lucavion's, voice lowering slightly.

"But let me remind you," he continued. "A 6-star Awakened, a knight—" He tapped the table once, deliberate. "—wouldn't just walk into a place like Varenthia without a damn good reason."

Lucavion studied Draven for a moment, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his glass as if considering something. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a smirk.

"It appears that Corvina has bested you," he mused.

Draven raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

Lucavion exhaled softly, tapping a finger against the table. "She gave me this information days ago. The name, the history, the disappearance. Everything you just said?" He tilted his head slightly. "Matches exactly with what she found."

Draven's jaw flexed. Not out of irritation—more out of interest.

Lucavion leaned back, his smirk deepening. "And you? You had to stumble through failed leads, dead ends, and cut-off trails. Meanwhile, Corvina had it neatly put together in a folder before I even knocked on her door."

Draven scoffed, but there was a glint in his eyes. "Tch. Should've figured. That woman's got her hands in places even I don't reach."

Lucavion chuckled. "You sound impressed."

Draven swirled his drink, his smirk returning. "I'm always impressed by people who can outmaneuver me. Doesn't happen often."

Lucavion lifted his own glass in a mock toast. "Then I hope you don't mind being bested twice."

Draven snorted but didn't argue. Instead, he exhaled through his nose, watching Lucavion carefully. "So, this is no coincidence. You knew Aldric was here before you even set foot in this city."

Lucavion nodded. "I suspected. Now I know."

Draven leaned forward slightly, his gray eyes sharp. "Then let's stop playing around. Why are you looking for him?"

Lucavion's smirk faded just slightly—not enough to disappear, but enough to change its meaning.

Lucavion's smirk faded completely. His black eyes, usually laced with mischief, sharpened into something colder, darker.

Then, in a voice as smooth as ever, but now devoid of humor, he said—

"I'm going to kill him."

Silence.

Draven felt it before he understood it.

A suffocating weight in the air, a pressure that wasn't physical but felt like a blade being pressed to his throat. His breath went tight, his instincts screaming danger before his mind even caught up.

His men reacted instantly.

The sharp ring of steel echoed through the room as swords were drawn, hands flew to hilts, and the tension snapped into action.

But—

Draven raised his hand.

A simple motion, but firm. A command.

His men hesitated, their gazes darting between him and Lucavion, but they didn't lower their weapons.

Draven forced his breath to steady, his grip tightening around his glass before he set it down. His voice, when he spoke, was rougher than before.

"Why?"

Lucavion's glare didn't waver. "Why?" he echoed, voice quiet, controlled—but beneath it was something sharp. "That is none of your business."

The air around him still hummed with the weight of his killing intent.

"I am just here to kill him."

His voice was flat, simple. As if it were just another fact of the world.

Draven swallowed down the instinct to shift in his seat. His fingers twitched slightly, but he didn't let it show.

He had been around killers before. Men who had taken lives without remorse. Men who had turned slaughter into an art.

But Lucavion—

This was different.

The way he said it. The way the room itself seemed to shrink under the weight of his words.

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This wasn't a job.

This wasn't business.

This was personal.

Draven exhaled slowly, but his lungs still felt tight. He moved his fingers, testing, forcing his body to loosen up again. But even then—

A single cough escaped him.

Lucavion watched him, eyes still cold. But after a moment, just as easily as he had released it—

The bloodlust vanished.

Like a blade being sheathed.

The air lightened again. The room breathed.

Draven inhaled slowly, adjusting his grip on the table, shaking off the lingering weight of it. His men hesitated before finally lowering their weapons, glancing at each other warily.

Lucavion leaned back in his chair, his usual smirk flickering back into place—but it wasn't quite the same.

Draven scoffed lightly, shaking his head. "Tch. You bastard." He rubbed his temple, exhaling. "Warn a guy next time before you pull something like that."

Lucavion chuckled, tilting his head slightly. "Would it have made a difference?"

Draven clicked his tongue, still feeling the tension in his shoulders.

No. No, it wouldn't have.