Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Chapter 1036  A Knight’s Glance, A Mage’s Echo (2)

It was the urge to speak.

But what kind of urge was that?

It was not to order. Not to correct someone or argue either.

It was something softer.

Something she didn’t quite know how to identify.

Her gaze slipped toward Elowyn once more. The girl was brushing frost from her fingertips, her expression even, her breath measured. She wasn’t seeking attention. She wasn’t preening. She simply… existed in a way that drew Valeria’s focus without meaning to.

‘I should say something.’

But what?

Praise? That felt clumsy coming from her mouth. She’d never been good at it, even with her siblings. Compliments always sounded stiff when she tried to force them.

A question? That risked sounding suspicious. The last thing she wanted was to make Elowyn feel interrogated.

A simple introduction? They had already exchanged names. Doing it again would be foolish.

Something neutral? Something professional?

She tried for that.

Her lips parted — barely — before she hesitated.

The words stalled.

Why was this… difficult?

She had interrogated suspects. Debriefed soldiers. Reported to nobles. Spoken to Lucavion without flinching, even when he irritated every nerve she had. Conversation was not a weakness she acknowledged.

Yet somehow, initiating this one — with this girl — felt disorienting.

‘Why am I… struggling?’

She glanced away for a heartbeat, as if the ruins might offer her a solution.

They didn’t.

The silence pushed at her again, the edges of it catching under her armor.

‘Making connections with her might be good,’ she reasoned, the thought slow but steady. ‘She’s competent. Sharp. Reliable. Someone worth knowing.’

A small breath escaped her. Quiet, nearly inaudible.

‘Making connections with her might be good,’ she reasoned, the thought slow but steady. ‘She’s competent. Sharp. Reliable. Someone worth knowing.’

A small breath escaped her. Quiet, nearly inaudible.

‘So why can’t I simply walk up and speak?’

Weird.

The thought drifted through her mind like a whisper.

She rarely used the word. It felt childish, imprecise. Yet it fit the unfamiliar knot settling in her chest.

And while she was lost in her thoughts…..Her gaze lingered longer than she realized. Elowyn had finished dusting frost from her hands and was straightening her posture when she finally looked up, meeting Valeria’s eyes directly. The hazel irises held no accusation, only a quiet curiosity.

“…Is something wrong with my face?”

The question caught Valeria off guard. Her breath paused, a momentary break in her composure. She had not expected Elowyn to confront it so plainly.

“Ah—” The response slipped out before she controlled it.

Elowyn tilted her head slightly. “You’ve been looking at me.”

There it was. Clear, direct, unembellished. No malice behind it, no teasing either. Just a simple observation delivered in an even tone.

Valeria straightened, tension gathering behind her ribs as she replayed the last few minutes. She had been staring. Not assessing an opponent, not reading a threat. Simply looking. The realization sent a faint, unwelcome warmth up the back of her neck.

She forced her voice into steadiness. “I spaced out for a moment.”

Elowyn’s expression didn’t shift, but her eyes lingered as if weighing the truth of that answer. Something about that silent scrutiny felt unexpectedly… perceptive. Valeria wasn’t sure she liked how easily those eyes seemed to reach past her armor.

Before either of them could say more, the proctor’s voice carried across the space, firm and final.

“Combat Awareness Trial, Group C–3. Assessment concluded.”

The fading ruins dissolved fully, leaving only the pale lines of the dome ward and the scuffed stone beneath their feet. Ren let out a sharp breath of relief, sagging onto his spear. Liliana lowered her bow with a small, exhausted laugh. Even Elowyn’s shoulders eased, though her stance remained composed.

Yet her attention stayed on Valeria.

Not openly. Not long. But enough.

A faint, searching awareness passed between them—an instinct Valeria couldn’t quite name. She felt no threat in it. No judgment. Only the sense of someone quietly matching her focus.

Strange.

She wasn’t used to feeling that familiar spark of interest twice in such a short span at the Academy. Jesse Burns had been the first; sharp, intense, impossible to ignore. And now Elowyn Caerlin—different in aura but unsettling in her own way—had stirred something again.

Valeria wasn’t sure what to do with that. She only knew it wasn’t something she wanted to dismiss. Not yet.

So she looked at Elowyn one more time, steadying her breath as the dome’s light dimmed around them, and acknowledged—if only to herself—that this girl had earned a place on the narrow list of people she wanted to understand.

The dome unsealed with a low hum, the illusion fully withdrawn. Fresh air—cooler and less dense with mana—drifted in from the corridor outside. Ren stretched his shoulders until something cracked loudly, then winced. Liliana shook her arms out one at a time as if reassuring herself they were still attached.

They walked out together, boots dragging slightly from fatigue but steps aligned out of habit formed during the fight. The proctor wrote something on a rune-slate without comment. That was usually a good sign.

Once they were clear of the testing zone, Ren turned to the two girls leading the formation. “I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t ten seconds from collapsing out there,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “If either of you hadn’t been in this group, we’d have been dog food for those constructs.”

Liliana nodded quickly. “That frost lattice saved my life three separate times, Elowyn. And Valeria—whatever that cutting technique was… I wouldn’t be standing here without it.”

Elowyn smiled faintly. “Everyone held their ground. Without Ren stopping the pressure and you covering the rear, the field would have collapsed. It wasn’t just us.”

Valeria inclined her head. “Agreed. Teamwork carried the assessment, not individuals.” She meant it. Taking credit for something that required four people felt wrong. Besides, both Ren and Liliana had exceeded expectations. They deserved the acknowledgment.

Ren huffed a tired laugh. “Well, I’ll take the compliment anyway. Can’t remember the last time a fight made me reconsider all my bad life choices.”

Liliana elbowed him lightly. “All of them?”

“Most,” he corrected.

They shared a small round of tired gratitude, simple but genuine. Then came the part that always followed a trial: dispersal. Students peeling off toward water stations, benches, or the nearest wall to slide down and rethink everything they’d just experienced.

Ren slung his spear over his shoulder with a groan. “I’m off to find a chair, a drink, or an early grave. Whichever shows up first.”

Liliana gave a polite bow to both Valeria and Elowyn before following after him. “See you two around. Or at least after we’ve slept off the trauma.”

The moment they were gone, the corridor felt quieter—not empty, but shifted. Elowyn didn’t leave immediately. She stood still for a breath, then two, as if considering something. Valeria assumed she would turn toward the exit.

Instead, Elowyn stepped in her direction.

There was no hesitation in her steps. No dramatic pause. She simply approached until the space between them closed to a comfortable conversational distance. Her hazel eyes met Valeria’s with the kind of calm that didn’t demand attention but held it naturally.

Valeria straightened, unsure what to expect. The faint heat from earlier—the awkward awareness of being caught staring—rose again, restrained beneath her ribs.

Elowyn closed the last few steps with the same quiet steadiness she’d shown inside the dome, stopping just close enough for conversation without crowding her. Nothing in her posture hinted at confrontation. No tension in her shoulders, no sharpness in her gaze. If anything, she looked… approachable.

Which was unexpected.

Valeria instinctively shifted her weight, the controlled adjustment she used when preparing for questions, criticism, or formalities. But Elowyn didn’t carry herself like someone about to demand anything. There was no probing curiosity, no attempt to corner her with gratitude or flattery. She simply looked at Valeria as if speaking to her was the most ordinary thing in the world.

“Before we go,” Elowyn said, her voice soft but clear, “I wanted to say… it was good fighting with you.”