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

That night, when Lucian returned to his quarters, he was met not by silence, but by the bright smiles of his companions.

Berry leaned against the wall, his arms folded, looking more at ease than usual.

Luna sat perched on the edge of the bed, her eyes gleaming, while Verus and the others crowded around the room, a fire of satisfaction burning in their faces.

"We've done it. The seeds are sown. The soldiers are stirring, the whispers are spreading, and it won't be long before they rise. This place is ready to tear itself free."

Berry said with a smirk. Luna nodded eagerly. "The hopelessness is cracking. You can see it in their eyes. They're starting to believe they can win."

Lucian listened, his expression calm, but a small approving curve touched his lips.

"Good. You've all done well. For now, that's enough. Let the fire spread on its own. The less we need to push, the more natural their rebellion will be."

The group exchanged satisfied glances, their work acknowledged.

For once, there was no heaviness between them, only the sharp anticipation of what was to come.

Later, when the time came to rest, Lucian dismissed them and leaned back against his chair. He did not, however, allow himself the luxury of sleep.

His eyes remained fixed on the window, sharp and unyielding, scanning the night.

Hours dragged on until the air outside shifted. A faint glow grew in the distance—torchlight.

Soon, the faint crackle of flames swelled into a storm of fire. Heavy footsteps thundered across the ground, countless boots striking the earth in unison. The rhythm shook the very walls of the settlement.

Lucian's lips curved into a knowing smile as he rose from his seat.

"So, it begins."

From his window, he could see the chaos unfurling. Torches blazed high, illuminating determined faces.

Soldiers surged toward the general's quarters, their weapons clenched in trembling fists. They shouted, not in fear, but in defiance.

Lucian closed his window quietly, slipping on his cloak. His eyes gleamed with amusement as he made his way to the door.

"I suppose I should witness this in person."

He murmured.

"After all, it's not every day you watch a tyrant crumble under his own chains."

The night roared with the sound of change. Soldiers who had once dragged their feet through mud now stood firm, voices echoing like war drums.

Some cried openly, not from fear, but from the overwhelming taste of long-denied freedom. The secretary raised his hand, steadying the noise, his voice carrying once more.

"Tonight, we take back our lives. No more shackles, no more silence. From this moment forward, we stand as men of our own will."

A cheer thundered in reply, shaking the heavens themselves. And Lucian, watching from the shadows, allowed himself the faintest smirk. The game had only just begun.

With measured steps, he walked into the night, ready to watch the final act of the rebellion he had set in motion.

And then, the doors burst open. General Ryan stormed out, half-dressed in his armor, rage and disbelief etched across his face. His voice boomed over the clamor.

"What is the meaning of this!? Do you fools know what you're doing?"

He roared.

The soldiers halted for a moment, their eyes locked on the man who had commanded their lives for so long. Fear rippled through the crowd—but it did not last. One by one, voices rose.

"We're done living under your chains!"

"You've taken everything from us!"

"We don't care about your threats anymore. Tonight, we break free!"

Ryan's jaw clenched, his voice dropping into a deadly growl.

"Enough. Return to your posts. This foolishness ends now."

When no one moved, his hands twitched. The general drew in a deep breath, his eyes narrowing.

He pressed his will outward, attempting to call on the cursed contract that had shackled every man and woman under his command.

But nothing happened.

Ryan froze. His chest tightened. He tried again, focusing harder, summoning the bond that had always obeyed his will. Yet, there was nothing—only emptiness where the contract's chains had once been.

Panic crept across his face. His heart hammered as he realized the truth.

The soldiers watched his faltering attempts, confusion giving way to realization. Their gazes shifted, widening in recognition of their newfound freedom.

It was then that the secretary stepped forward, his posture no longer bent with fear but standing tall. His voice carried across the fiery night.

"There is no contract anymore, General."

Ryan's head snapped toward him, eyes blazing.

"What did you say?"

The secretary didn't flinch.

"This march tonight—it was only a formality. The truth is, the soldiers are already free. They no longer answer to you. And now…"

His voice hardened as he looked directly into Ryan's stunned eyes.

"Now it's time for you to step down."

The soldiers roared in agreement, stamping their feet, raising their weapons high. The thunder of their defiance shook the ground.

Ryan staggered back a step, his face pale beneath the torchlight.

"Step down? You dare…?" His voice faltered, his bluster crumbling as the wave of fury pressed closer.

"No one here wants to follow you anymore. You've ruled through chains and fear. That ends tonight. Someone who actually cares for these soldiers will take your place."

The secretary continued, his tone sharp as a blade.

The general's fists clenched until his knuckles turned white. His pride screamed at him to fight, to refuse, to crush them all as he always had.

But as he looked out at the sea of blazing eyes—soldiers who no longer cowered, who no longer bent their knees—he felt it.

Powerless.

For the first time in years, he stood not as a ruler but as a man cornered.

His mouth opened, but no words came.

The soldiers pressed forward, their voices rising, their unity undeniable. Their torches burned higher, brighter, like the flames of their long-suppressed will.

And General Ryan, caught beneath their unshakable gaze, realized he had already lost.