Reborn as an Extra with the SSS-Divine Debt System and my Past Skills

High above the snowstorm, hidden within the swirling white of the now, Merci watched with satisfaction from the top of the cliff as her prey struggled against her spell.

Her eyes narrowed in delight as she observed her prey and his companions faltering under the weight of her spell.

The mana she had woven clung to them like mist, pulling their minds deep into the illusions she had crafted.

"Yes…Fall. All of you. See what your hearts ache for. Let me lead you where I want."

She murmured to herself, her lips curling into a pleased smile.

"Humans have such fragile minds. You show them what they want to see and they fold so easily."

From her vantage point, she could feel the pull—their resistance fading as the mirages dug deeper. Their movements slowed, their expressions softened.

Already, she could sense cracks in their will. That was how it always went.

"Tsk, this isn't even a challenge at this point. Now, what should I do with them once I have them under my control?"

They would stumble into the past she presented, hearts laid bare. And in that vulnerable state, she could whisper to them, plant the seeds of suggestion, and watch as they obeyed without realizing why.

Her fingers flexed, channeling mana as she prepared to deepen the web.

But then—

A faint ripple ran through her spell.

Merci's smile faltered.

"What…?"

She muttered, glancing downward. She had cast this spell countless times before. Her illusions never faltered so easily.

Her crimson gaze locked onto the source of disturbance.

Around one of them—Lucian—the mana had become unstable. It churned and snapped, breaking against her hold like wild currents refusing to be tamed. The illusion should have swallowed him whole, just as it had the others.

And yet—

Her eyes widened in disbelief.

Before him stood a woman. A woman Merci herself had conjured out of his memories… yet instead of ensnaring him, she appeared frozen, too stunned to act.

"What is this…?"

Merci whispered, her voice tight with confusion.

It made no sense. Normally, her targets would collapse into desperation. They would cling to the phantom she gave them, reaching, crying, begging. Humans were so easy that way, so quick to crumble when shown the face of someone they thought lost forever.

But this man—

This Lucian—

He laughed.

Merci could hear the sound echo faintly through the storm, sharp and mocking, even though her spell still wrapped the others in dreamlike haze.

Her lips tightened into a frown. She didn't like this. Not one bit.

"Fine. If a simple push won't work… then I'll drown you in it. Even if you want to escpae, I won't allow you to. This is a matter of pride for me now."

She hissed, lifting her hands, gathering her mana.

She poured more energy into the spell, forcing the illusion to strengthen, the storm itself to carry her magic deeper into their minds. The snow thickened, the voices grew louder, the phantoms closer.

But just as her concentration reached its peak—

She blinked.

Only for an instant.

And in that instant, her chest constricted with dread.

A spear of mana shot upward, tearing through the blizzard like a flash of lightning. It came so fast that Merci barely managed to twist aside. The edge grazed her shoulder, leaving a trail of searing pain across her flesh.

"Gh—!"

The shock was enough.

Her focus broke.

The illusion shattered like glass, fragments scattering into the storm until there was nothing left but snow and silence.

Merci cursed under her breath, clutching her shoulder. Her glare burned downward at Lucian, who stood with his hand still raised, mana crackling faintly around him.

Tch. Too dangerous.

She had not expected resistance like this.

Clicking her tongue, Merci spun on her heel, her cloak flaring behind her.

"Another time. Let's continue this another time. Ugh, I cannot believe I got hit like this."

She muttered, vanishing into the shadows of the storm.

On the ground, Lucian exhaled slowly, his breath visible in the freezing air. His grip relaxed, the last traces of mana fading from his palm.

The woman before him—the phantom of his past—sighed softly, her expression a mix of fondness and sorrow.

"You never change, Lucian."

She whispered.

Her figure dissolved into mist, scattering into nothing as the spell unraveled completely.

For a moment, Lucian stood still, his chest tightening. The pang of longing was sharp, raw, almost unbearable. The past tugged at him, threatening to drag him under.

But then—

[Buzz… buzz…]

The grating sound of the system echoed in his ear. Annoying. Relentless. It snapped him back to reality, grounding him firmly in the present.

Lucian clicked his tongue.

"Enough."

He forced the memories back where they belonged. Behind him. Buried.

Around him, the others stirred. Mira blinked rapidly, looking pale, her hand gripping her sword without realizing it.

Berry rubbed his temples, groaning as though waking from a long sleep. Luna gritted her teeth, anger flickering in her eyes, though her posture betrayed her disorientation.

Even Verus shook his head, his jaw tight as he tried to shake off the remnants of the dream.

"What… happened?"

Mira asked, her voice unsteady.

Lucian straightened, his tone firm but calm.

"Don't worry. It was just a trick. An illusion spell. It's gone now."

The others exchanged uneasy glances. Embarrassment colored their faces as they realized how easily they had been caught.

Lucian studied them quietly, noting the lingering strain in their expressions. Finally, he sighed.

"We'll rest here for a few minutes. Catch your breath before we move again."

"I'm fine. We don't need to waste time—"

Luna protested immediately, crossing her arms.

Lucian turned his gaze toward her, sharp and unyielding.

Her words caught in her throat. She held his stare for a heartbeat, then muttered under her breath and sat down with the others.

The storm raged on outside, but inside their small circle of resolve, silence settled.

They would walk again soon.

But for now, they needed to breathe.