Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Chapter 475 Father

The dim glow of the lantern flickered softly, casting shifting shadows against the polished walls of the Duke's private chambers. The night was silent, save for the distant crash of waves against the fleet's hull. The rhythmic sound should have been grounding—familiar—but tonight, it did little to settle his thoughts.

Thaddeus sat at his desk, fingers steepled, golden eyes focused on nothing in particular. His mind, however, was far from still.

Everything felt strange. Unfamiliar, despite the fact that the situation should have been a relief.

His daughter, Aeliana, was here.

Alive.

Safe.

But that was not what unsettled him.

It was the way she had returned.

Stronger than ever.

The physicians had confirmed it—her body was no longer frail. The sickness that had plagued her since childhood, the very thing that had dictated the course of her life, was gone.

And not only gone—it had been replaced with something greater.

Aeliana was standing taller, her presence sharper, her movements unburdened by the fragility that once held her down.

It was unnatural.

Not impossible.

But unnatural.

His fingers tapped lightly against the wooden desk, a slow, thoughtful rhythm.

And then there was that boy.

Luca.

No. That was not his real name.

Whoever he was, whatever his true identity, Thaddeus did not trust him.

When he had first met him, there had been no certainty—no confirmation that he was truly the one who had saved Aeliana. The only proof had been Aeliana's own words.

That should have been enough.

But still, something in Thaddeus had refused to accept it entirely.

It had been suspicion at first. Doubt. A simple, cautious instinct honed over years of war and deception.

But then he learned about Aeliana's cure.

And suddenly, it was not just caution anymore.

It was urgency.

He needed to know more.

The Eternal Skyroot Herb. The change in her mana core. The impossible way her body had not just survived the process but thrived in it.

And somehow, Lucavion was at the center of it all.

His golden eyes narrowed.

This young man was reckless. Insolent. Unpredictable. A charlatan with the mouth of a rogue and the presence of a survivor.

Yet, despite his personality, despite his audacity, he was strong.

Too strong.

A five-star cultivator at his age was already exceptional. But Lucavion's energy was off. It carried something beneath the surface, something unsettlingly familiar.

Something that reminded Thaddeus of a past he had long left behind.

His jaw tightened slightly.

And yet, even with everything he had seen—everything he had sensed—Lucavion was not what troubled him most.

It was Aeliana.

His daughter had changed.

Not just physically. Not just in strength.

In spirit.

She did not look at him the same way anymore.

There had always been defiance in her, always a quiet fire beneath her carefully measured words. Even in her illness, she had held on.

But now, that fire was something different.

It was no longer just resistance.

It was independence.

She no longer sought his approval. No longer looked to him as the immovable force that dictated her life.

And that—

That was the part he did not know how to deal with.

His fingers curled slightly against the desk, his thoughts circling back to the moment he had examined her mana core.

It had been unmistakable.

She had followed his technique.

And she had mastered it.

The impossible strength of her mana reserves, the seamless flow of energy within her—it all pointed to something far beyond natural progression.

And yet, he had felt it the moment he stepped into the abyss.

That pulse. That connection.

He had thought it was instinct. The desperation of a father

And she wanted him to see it.

"You called me."

She really looked like her mother.