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

Dinner was announced not long after. General Ryan's aide came to fetch Lucian, bowing stiffly before gesturing for him to follow.

But when Lucian looked behind him, he realized the invitation was for him alone. His companions were left standing in silence.

The secretary, who had been following behind, looked stricken. His face tightened, and he quickly bent forward in apology.

"I—I'm sorry, Lord Lucian. The general… he believes a formal dinner should only be shared between leaders. It's not… it's not my place to question his judgment, but—"

Lucian raised a hand, cutting him off with a calm smile.

"It's fine. I understand. Hosting more guests would strain your already tight supplies. My companions can make do with their own rations."

The words were spoken gently, but they landed like stones.

The secretary froze, his lips trembling. His face paled, and for a brief moment, Lucian thought the man might argue—might shout that this wasn't about supplies but dignity.

Yet no words came. His shoulders sagged, and with a regretful bow of his head, he stepped back.

It was clear as day: the secretary wanted to help. But without power, his hands were tied.

Lucian placed a hand on the man's shoulder as he passed.

"Do not trouble yourself. I'll manage."

The man's eyes widened at the casual reassurance, but before he could respond, Lucian was already following the aide toward the general's quarters.

As he disappeared from sight, he gave the faintest signal to his companions. The kind of look they had seen countless times before. It meant:

Start your work.

The moment Lucian was gone, the others exchanged glances.

"Well," Luna muttered, stretching her arms above her head.

"Shall we go stir the pot?"

Berry smirked.

"The soldiers' quarters, then."

Mira tugged her familiars close, clearly unhappy, but she didn't argue. Verus simply set his jaw and led the way.

The soldier's living area was easy enough to find. It was set apart from the central settlement, behind a row of crumbling barracks.

The stench hit them the moment they entered—a pungent mix of spoiled food, sweat, and unwashed bedding.

Berry wrinkled his nose.

"And this is supposed to be a fighting force?"

The soldiers within looked half-dead themselves. Some sat slumped against the walls, their uniforms stained and ragged.

Others lay on their bunks, staring at nothing. The few who were eating picked at moldy bread as though it were the finest feast.

Not one of them looked up when Lucian's companions entered.

"Pathetic. And you people call yourselves soldiers?"

Luna muttered under her breath, though her sharp tone carried.

That at least got a reaction. A man near the door lifted his head, his eyes dull.

"What's the point of talking big? We serve. We obey. That's all that matters."

"Obey? But… look at this place! Don't you want things to change?"

Mira frowned, her little wolves growling low at the despair in the air.

The man barked a laugh, bitter and hollow.

"Change? If we try, we die. That's all there is to it."

Berry's smile dropped.

"What do you mean, die?"

Another soldier, older and gaunter than the rest, sat up with a cough. His voice was hoarse, but steady.

"The general holds us with more than fear. He's bound our souls. Every man and woman who swore loyalty to him had to submit. That contract… it's like chains around our very life. If we rebel, if we even think of betraying him, those chains will squeeze the life out of us."

Luna narrowed her eyes.

"A soul-binding contract, huh? That explains why you're all so broken."

The first soldier clenched his fists.

"So don't mock us. Don't act like we're cowards. We can't fight even if we wanted to."

The words hung heavy in the stale air.

Verus stepped forward, his expression stormy. His voice boomed with rare fury.

"Then answer me this—if those chains were broken… if that cursed contract vanished—would you fight? Would you take back your freedom?"

The barracks fell silent. The soldiers looked at one another, their eyes shadowed, uncertain.

Finally, the older man spoke again, his tone weary.

"Maybe… maybe we would. But right now, most of us are too tired. Too used to this cage. Freedom… it feels like a dream. Dreams don't feed us. Dreams don't keep us alive."

Mira's face twisted with frustration.

"That's… that's not true! You can't just—"

Berry stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, his expression grim.

"They're not lying. They're lost."

Verus ground his teeth, his fists trembling. He wanted to shout, to rage at them, to force them to stand up.

But looking into their hollow eyes, he knew it wouldn't work. These people weren't just bound by a contract. They were shackled by despair.

"They don't just need freedom. They need direction. A reason to fight. A leader who can show them the way."

Berry said quietly.

Luna crossed her arms, her cold eyes scanning the room.

"And right now… they don't have one."

The silence stretched. The soldiers returned to their silence, the dull clinking of spoons and the rustle of ragged blankets filling the air.

Mira bent down, hugging her familiars tight.

"This place really does suck."

She whispered.

For once, no one argued with her.

Luna let out a sharp sigh and stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the dirty floor.

"I can't take this anymore. This place is suffocating."

She muttered, her cold voice cutting through the stagnant air.

Without sparing the soldiers another glance, she strode out of the barracks, her long strides quick and purposeful.

Berry followed soon after, shaking his head.

"She's right. Staying here any longer won't change anything."

Mira hesitated, clutching her familiars protectively, but eventually hurried after them, her little wolves padding at her heels.

That left Verus standing in the dim, foul-smelling room. His eyes swept over the hollow faces of the soldiers one last time.

Their despair clung to him like chains, their lifeless gazes weighing heavily on his heart.

He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth.

'There has to be a way…'

Without another word, he turned and walked out, the question burning inside him.

______

The walk through the narrow halls was quiet, the only sound being the soft echo of their footsteps. Lucius's gaze never left the secretary's back, sharp and calculating, and it was clear that the man could feel it.

His shoulders were stiff, his pace slightly unsteady, as if the weight of that stare alone was pressing down on him.

When they finally turned a corner, Lucius broke the silence. His voice was calm, but his words cut straight to the bone.

"Tell me… don't you feel sorry for this place?"

The secretary froze mid-step. For a moment, he didn't even breathe. His hands trembled at his sides as he slowly turned to look at Lucius, eyes wide with shock.

It was as if someone had finally voiced the question he had been burying deep within his chest. His lips parted, but no words came out.

Lucius tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable.

"The people are suffering, rotting away under your general's rule. You see it every day, don't you?"

The secretary's throat tightened. Shame, sorrow, and fear flickered across his face in quick succession. His silence was answer enough.

"I—That is…"