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

The chief's collapse left the group shaken, but Lucian's sharp gaze did not waver. He crouched beside the man, his hand hovering just above the chief's chest without touching.

"…Residual mana. This wasn't his own doing. A defense mechanism was placed on him—the moment he revealed too much, it triggered."

Lucian muttered, his tone grim.

The villagers, who had gathered nervously around, recoiled at his words. Fear spread quickly across their ashen faces.

"Are we… cursed, then?"

One whispered.

Lucian straightened, his expression cold.

"Not cursed but controlled. And if you continue serving the demoness who calls herself Merci, you'll end up like your chief. Or worse. You'll perish under her rule."

The murmur of panic rose into desperate voices. One villager stepped forward, his hands trembling.

"We know… we know what she is. But what choice do we have? Merci protects us. We don't have the strength to break her hold. Without her, we'd freeze or starve in this snow."

Lucian's jaw tightened.

"Pathetic. You cling to protection that comes at the cost of your will. Don't expect sympathy."

His voice cut like ice. That silenced them, but Verus took a step forward, his brow furrowed.

"Wait, Lucian. Are you saying there's nothing we can do for them?"

His voice carried a rare urgency.

Lucian turned toward him, his expression almost pitying.

"For you to care so much about strangers… how naïve. There is a way. But it's not a path I'd recommend."

He sighed, as though weighed down by Verus's persistence.

Verus held his ground.

"Tell me."

Lucian studied him for a moment before answering, his voice low.

"These villagers… they could appeal to Demon King Belphegor. He and I have an alliance. I can serve as a bridge. But understand this: Belphegor is unpredictable. I can't guarantee he'd grant mercy, even if I asked."

The villagers gasped, their fear doubling at the mention of another demon. But Verus's eyes lit with determination.

"If there's even a chance, then it's worth trying. You don't want to remain enslaved forever, do you? This might be your chance."

He turned to the villagers.

Hesitant, the villagers exchanged glances before nodding slowly.

Lucian pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Fools, the lot of you."

Still, he pulled a piece of parchment from his cloak and began sketching a crude map. His quill strokes were steady, but his expression was grim.

When he handed it to the villagers, his gaze lingered on them for a long moment.

"Follow this path. If you survive the journey, present yourselves as supplicants before Belphegor's court. Perhaps he'll take pity."

His lips curled faintly, though the gesture held no warmth.

"But in my heart, I doubt I'll ever see you again. Demons don't take betrayal lightly. Once Merci learns what you've done, she will not stop until she's fed on your screams."

The villagers paled but clutched the map tightly, as though it were their last hope.

Verus noticed Lucian's expression—annoyed, cold, but beneath it all, something unspoken.

Despite his disapproval, Lucian had chosen to help. Verus's chest tightened with something that felt close to respect.

"…You act like you don't care, but you helped them anyway. That says enough about who you are."

Verus muttered, his voice just low enough. Lucian's eyes flicked to him, sharp and unreadable.

"Don't mistake pragmatism for kindness. We're done here. Gather your things—we're leaving."

Then, louder, he addressed the rest of the group.

Berry, Mira, and Luna returned quickly with their packs. The tension in their shoulders eased slightly at Lucian's decisive tone.

The villagers tried to thank them, but Lucian ignored it, striding toward the edge of the settlement.

As the group departed, Verus cast one last look back at the village. A fragile hope lingered there, in the faces of those who dared to think they could be free.

An hour passed before the group was far enough away to no longer see the demon village, even in the distance.

The group trudged onward through the snow, the only sounds their footsteps crunching against the frozen ground and the faint growls of Mira's wolves.

No one spoke for a while, the earlier events weighing heavily on their minds.

Berry was the first to break the silence, his voice solid when he turned around.

"Do you really think those villagers will make it?"

His tone was low, almost reluctant.

Lucian didn't slow his pace.

"No."

The blunt response made Berry wince, but he didn't argue.

Mira glanced at Lucian, her brows furrowed.

"Then why give them a map at all?"

Lucian's eyes narrowed against the wind, his voice calm but sharp.

"Because sometimes, hope is the only thing people can cling to. Even if it's false."

Verus clenched his fists, but he said nothing. He understood. Yet, in his heart, he silently vowed that if there was any chance at all, he would not abandon those people.

______

But elsewhere, high above, Merci's lips curved into a thin smile as she watched.

Her prey was slipping from her grasp. Worse, the village she had nurtured with shadows and fear dared to dream of betrayal.

"Ungrateful insects."

She hissed, her eyes narrowing.

Her choices weighed heavily for only a moment. She could pursue Lucian and his band, continue her mission, and retrieve her prize.

But the thought of leaving a den of traitors festering behind her gnawed at her patience.

Her hand flicked, and darkness rippled outward like a tide.

"First, the betrayers. Then the prey."

She decided coldly.

From every corner, her shadow familiars surged forth like a swarm of hungry beasts. The villagers never stood a chance.

Screams echoed briefly in the snow, cut short as shadows devoured the small settlement.

Within seconds, the village was nothing but silence and ruin.

Merci exhaled slowly, her crimson eyes glittering with malice.

"Now, I can focus."

Far in the distance, Lucian and his companions walked through the snow, unaware of the annihilation behind them. Only the wind carried the faintest whisper of what had been lost.