Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

"This is a direct challenge. He knows that we won't kill the boy."

Alric's words echoed in the room, and that made Korvan's pacing grow more furious with each passing second, his mind churning with anger. "Kill the boy," he growled, his voice filled with venom. "We should cut his head off right now and throw it at Rackenshore's gates. Show them what happens when they cross me!"

Alric, standing in the shadows just beside Korvan's throne, narrowed his eyes slightly but maintained his calm demeanor. "Korvan, we can't do that," he said, his tone measured and calculating. "If we kill the boy, we lose our only leverage. The moment his head rolls, Baron Edris will have no reason to hold back. He'll come at us with everything he has."

Korvan spun on his heel, glaring at Alric. "He's already coming at us!" he roared. "That damn decree is proof enough that the baron has decided to confront me. He doesn't care about his son's life anymore!"

Alric met Korvan's gaze, unflinching. "That's precisely why this situation feels off," he replied, his voice cool. "The baron's acting recklessly, yes, but that decree… it's a bluff. He wants us to panic, to make a mistake. If we kill Ron, he'll have no reason to negotiate, no reason to stall. And once that happens, we lose any control we have over this situation."

Korvan's fists tightened, but he listened. Alric always had a knack for seeing through traps, and his cold logic had kept Korvan's operations running smoothly for years. Still, the thought of the baron issuing such a public challenge made his blood boil.

"You think this decree is a bluff, then?" Korvan asked, his voice simmering with barely contained rage.

Alric nodded. "Yes. The baron's desperate, but he isn't foolish. He knows we're still holding his son, which is the only thing keeping him from launching a full-scale assault. But this decree, Korvan—it's designed to provoke us. To force us to make a move before we're ready."

Korvan gritted his teeth, considering Alric's words. "So, what do you propose?" he asked, his voice low. "We just sit here and wait?"

Alric's lips curled into a small, calculating smile. "No. We prepare. We fortify the camp and make sure no one slips in unnoticed. But we don't kill the boy. Not yet.

Let them think they have us cornered. Let them believe their decree is working. Meanwhile, we'll be the ones setting the trap."

Korvan's anger slowly began to subside as Alric's plan took shape in his mind. His right-hand man was right—they still had leverage. Killing the boy now would only lead to chaos. But keeping him alive… that gave them options.

Korvan took a deep breath, nodding slowly. "Fine. We'll play their game for now. But if they make one wrong move—just one—I want that boy's head on a pike."

Alric gave a slight bow. "Understood, Leader. I'll make sure everything is ready. We won't let them catch us off guard."

As Alric left the chamber to set the preparations in motion, Korvan sat back in his chair, his mind still buzzing with anger but tempered by the knowledge that they still held the upper hand.

Yet, Alric did not expect such a reckless thing to be the first thing at dawn.

*********

In the dim light of dawn, the forest around Korvan's hideout was shrouded in a thick fog. The bandits, uneasy after the news of Lothar and Loren's deaths and the baron's decree, were more alert than usual. A small group of them patrolled the perimeter of the camp, their weapons at the ready, though the weariness in their eyes betrayed their exhaustion.

Two bandits, walking side by side, muttered to each other, their voices low but tense.

"Can you believe this mess?" one of them grumbled, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. "Everything was fine just a few weeks ago. We had Rackenshore in our pockets, and now... Now we're losing men left and right, and that decree? I didn't sign up to fight a whole army."

The other bandit, a scruffy-looking man with a scar running down his cheek, snorted in agreement. "Yeah, no kidding. First, Lothar and Loren get wiped out like nothing, and now the baron's calling for our heads. I don't like this one bit."

They continued their patrol in silence for a moment, the oppressive atmosphere of the forest closing in around them. The thick fog muffled their footsteps, creating an eerie stillness.

Just as the first bandit opened his mouth to speak again, the underbrush to their right rustled violently. Before either of them could react, figures emerged from the bushes, weapons gleaming in the pale morning light.

"Ambush!" one of the bandits shouted, his voice cracking in panic as he drew his sword.

But it was too late.

Roderick's men, Awakened warriors under his command, struck with brutal precision. A gleaming blade sliced through the air, cutting down the first bandit before he could even raise his weapon. Blood sprayed across the forest floor as the others scrambled to defend themselves.

"Enemies!" one of the surviving bandits screamed as he staggered back, his eyes wide with terror. "Inform the camp! We're under attack!"

The remaining patrol scattered in all directions, some reaching for their horns to sound the alarm, others trying desperately to hold off the attackers. But Roderick's men moved with lethal efficiency, their strikes precise, their intent clear: eliminate the bandits before they could warn the main camp.

Amid the chaos, one of the bandits managed to blow his horn, the deep, echoing sound reverberating through the trees. The alert had been raised.

More of Roderick's forces surged forward, breaking through the fog like a wave of vengeance. The clash of steel rang out as the front-line assault began in earnest. From the camp, shouts of alarm could be heard as the bandits scrambled to defend their hideout.

"We're going in," one of Roderick's lieutenants growled, his blade already slick with blood.

The forest erupted into chaos as the assault began, the element of surprise in full effect.

*******

Korvan paced restlessly in his chambers, still simmering from the conversation with Alric. His mind raced with anger and paranoia, unable to shake the uneasy feeling that something was wrong. He took a deep swig of wine, his thoughts momentarily clouded by the bitter liquid.

But then, a loud, frantic pounding echoed from the door.

"Leader!" a voice shouted from outside, filled with urgency.

Korvan's eyes narrowed as he marched to the door, throwing it open. One of his lieutenants stood there, panting heavily, his face pale with fear.

"We're under attack!" the lieutenant gasped, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Roderick's men—they're here, right outside the camp!"

For a moment, Korvan froze, the wine goblet slipping from his hand and crashing to the ground. His eyes widened in disbelief, fury igniting in his chest like a roaring inferno.

"What?!" Korvan bellowed, his voice filled with raw anger. "How could they have found us so soon?!"

The lieutenant, shaking, took a step back. "I—I don't know, Leader! But they're already fighting our men at the perimeter! We have to act fast, or we'll be overrun!"

Korvan's fists clenched tightly, his knuckles turning white. He turned sharply and shouted, "ALRIC!"

Alric appeared in the doorway moments later, his expression calm but his eyes calculating. "I assume the attack has begun," he said, his voice cold and collected.

"Get every man we have ready!" Korvan snarled. "We'll crush them, but first…" His voice trailed off as his eyes darkened with sudden realization.

He stormed past Alric, heading straight for the room where Ron was being held captive. His boots thudded against the stone floor, the sound echoing in the now chaotic hideout. His mind raced—Ron was his bargaining chip, his last line of leverage. If anything had happened to the boy…

Korvan reached the door, throwing it open with such force that it slammed against the wall. His eyes darted around the room, scanning every corner.

But it was empty.

Ron was gone.

Korvan's breath hitched, his heart pounding as he stepped further into the room. There were no signs of a struggle, no overturned furniture—nothing. It was as if Ron had simply vanished.

"Where is he?!" Korvan roared, his voice echoing in the empty chamber. His fists slammed into the wall, cracking the stone. His eyes blazed with fury as he spun around, glaring at Alric, who had just arrived at the door.

"He's gone!" Korvan bellowed, his rage threatening to boil over. "How the hell did this happen?!"

Alric's eyes scanned the room, his calculating gaze taking in every detail. His expression remained calm, though a glint of concern flickered in his eyes. "It seems we've been outplayed," he muttered, almost to himself. "They knew exactly when to strike."

Korvan's hands trembled with fury. "Find him!" he shouted, his voice hoarse with anger. "Find the boy, or I'll tear this whole place apart!"

Alric nodded, already turning to leave and issue orders. But in the back of his mind, he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that they were now playing into their enemy's hands. The situation was spiraling out of control faster than he had anticipated.

And it was only a matter of time before everything came crashing down.