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

General Ryan's chest heaved as the shouts of rebellion thundered around him. Sweat slicked his brow, his hands trembling despite the mask of authority he tried to wear.

The soldiers—his soldiers—no longer looked at him with fear. Instead, their eyes burned with a fire he hadn't seen in years.

'This can't be happening…'

His pulse raced. He searched the crowd, desperate for some scrap of control, but the only thing he found was the contempt on their faces.

For the first time since taking power, General Ryan realized he had no idea what to do next.

Then, amid the clamor, a voice slid into his mind—low, oily, and unmistakably inhuman.

"If you want help… then reach out."

His blood ran cold. He recognized that voice. The benefactor who had given him the cursed contract years ago, the one who whispered promises of dominion.

Ryan's lips quivered as he muttered under his breath, hoping no one else heard.

"Help me… I need help. Now!"

The voice hummed, pleased.

"Then surrender. Offer your body to the contract completely, and I will save you."

Ryan's teeth clenched, panic warring with reason. He knew this was dangerous—he wasn't stupid

. But as he looked at the mass of soldiers, the rebellion rising, and the secretary standing tall where once he'd cowered, Ryan felt his authority slipping through his fingers like sand.

He had no choice.

"I… I agree! Take it—do it!"

The moment the words left his lips, a flood of demonic mana surged into him, tearing through flesh and bone.

He screamed, body arching unnaturally as black veins crawled up his neck and face. His eyes rolled back, glowing crimson as his humanity burned away.

Outside, the gathered soldiers froze in horror.

"What… what's happening to him?"

One whispered.

Another soldier staggered back, voice breaking.

"Run! Everyone run! That thing's not our general anymore!"

Panic erupted. Boots pounded against stone as men scattered from the quarters, shoving each other to escape.

Within moments, Ryan's body split the walls apart as if they were paper, his twisted bulk surging outward with a roar.

He was no longer a man. His frame stretched unnaturally, arms bulking with raw demonic muscle. His mouth opened wider than humanly possible, leaking a stream of black mist that corroded the air itself.

The soldiers who dared to raise their weapons quickly learned their mistake. Their bullets, their skills—none of it pierced the grotesque figure before them.

The demonic energy around him devoured their efforts, turning every strike into ash before it touched him.

Ryan snarled, throat bulging as he sucked in mana. His mouth lit like a furnace, preparing to unleash devastation on those who had once served him.

"Move, he's going to—!"

But before the blast erupted, a shield of shimmering mana surged up, enveloping the soldiers in a dome of safety.

The wave of destructive energy slammed against the barrier and scattered harmlessly, bursting into sparks before it could burn a single soul.

The soldiers looked up, stunned.

Lucian stood at the edge of the chaos, his hand raised, eyes cold. His cloak whipped in the heated wind from the blast, his presence cutting through the fear like a blade.

"Run."

He ordered flatly.

The soldiers gawked for a moment, still in disbelief.

"Run! Hide and regroup. This thing is no longer yours to fight. Wake my companions. They'll help with the cleanup."

Lucian barked again, sharper this time.

The authority in his voice snapped them out of their daze. Fearful but trusting, they scrambled away to carry out his command.

Ryan—no, the creature that had been Ryan—turned his burning gaze toward Lucian, saliva dripping from its jagged maw. With an enraged roar, he lunged.

Lucian didn't flinch. With a flick of his wrist, another shield formed, snapping into place around the beast like a cage.

The air shimmered as the barrier tightened, locking the monster within a dome of luminous energy.

Ryan slammed against it, clawing, thrashing, his movements wild and animalistic. The ground cracked beneath the force, but the shield held, straining yet unbroken.

Lucian's eyes narrowed. He stepped closer, raising a hand toward the creature's distorted face. He could feel the demonic mana writhing inside it, a parasite latched to Ryan's soul.

If he could push his own mana through, forcefully disrupt the current, he might undo the transformation—or at least weaken the hold.

"Let's end this before you tear your own body apart."

Lucian muttered.

His palm hovered just inches from the grotesque visage, mana gathering at his fingertips. He pressed forward, feeling the burn of resistance as if touching raw flame.

The demonic energy snarled at him, fighting his intrusion.

But then—

A shift.

The hair on his neck prickled as his instincts screamed. Something was coming.

Lucian's eyes snapped upward, and in that split second, he pivoted. The shield flared as he twisted away, narrowly dodging the blur that cut through the night like lightning.

A set of fangs snapped shut where his throat had been.

The beast landed with a heavy thud, shadows clinging to its fur. Its eyes glowed red, and its maw dripped with thick saliva.

A shadow wolf.

Lucian's gaze hardened. He knew that beast.

It was the same kind that had ambushed him and his companions before, the same signature of demonic presence that stalked them outside this settlement.

This wasn't chance.

"This isn't your ability."

He muttered under his breath. His eyes flicked from the warped general straining in the shield to the wolf circling him, hackles raised.

"No… someone set you up."

The wolf growled low, the sound rumbling like thunder in its chest. Ryan, trapped within the barrier, shrieked and slammed harder, his grotesque form swelling with fresh bursts of energy.

Lucian stepped back, calculating, his mind sharpening despite the chaos. His suspicions solidified.

Someone wanted to make this situation worse.

Lucian let out a quiet breath, his lips curving into a thin, dangerous smile.

"So be it."

The night of rebellion had just turned into a battlefield.