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

The thing that had once been General Ryan tore the night apart with a roar—a ragged howl of a man consumed by his bargain.

He lunged with desperation, claws swinging, dark mana bursting from his maw. For a beat, the world narrowed to him: a hurricane of corruption aimed at anyone between him and freedom.

Then the pressure turned inward.

Ryan's frame heaved as if something inside was tearing him apart. Black veins pulsed under his skin, eyes rolling crimson.

He tried to force the power outward, but the vessel could no longer contain it.

A scream—more animal than human—ripped from his throat. The dark mana flared, then betrayed him. He doubled over, body convulsing before erupting.

The explosion bloomed clean and violent. A shockwave ripped banners and hurled men to their knees. When the light cleared, nothing remained but a smoking crater.

Silence lingered—then shattered into cheers. Tears and laughter mixed as men realized the tyrant who bound them was gone.

Lucian didn't smile. The problem was solved, but chaos would follow. He turned to Verus.

"Take command."

Verus stiffened. He wasn't a leader, but the steadiness in his eyes answered. He swallowed his nerves and barked.

"Form two lines! Secure the perimeter! Wounded to the tents—move!"

The soldiers rallied, snapping into order like a dormant instinct had awoken. Lucian gave a faint nod, then turned away.

Luna was late. Too late.

He pushed through the camp. Shadows of Merci's familiars still skittered, cut down by soldiers and villagers. The air reeked of smoke and blood.

He found Luna near the eastern storerooms. The stone walls were scarred, the ground splattered—signs of a vicious fight. Merci stood opposite her, cloak tattered, blood at her side. Luna held her ground, rooted and steady.

Lucian stepped into view.

"You were slow. I thought you'd been eaten."

Merci's lips curled.

"If not for my wounds, I'd have crushed you both long ago."

Luna scoffed.

"Big words from someone who's done nothing but bleed."

Merci's nostrils flared. Rage overcame caution, and she lunged, shadows snapping like whips. Luna braced, stone rising under her feet to block. The impact rattled her arms, but she pushed back, countering with a jagged shard aimed at Merci's flank.

Merci twisted, avoiding it, but the movement tore her wound wider. Blood flowed. Her face twisted with fury as she drove shadow spears toward Luna's ribs, testing her defenses.

A glimmer of motion cut across her abdomen.

Merci froze. A mana-laced blade jutted from her stomach, runes burning faintly. She staggered, eyes wide, and looked back.

Lucian stood there, expression unreadable, knife steady in his grip.

"Resistance is useless."

He said evenly.

Merci laughed, weak but venomous.

"You think this ends with me? I'd rather burn everything than be shackled!" Her hands pressed a hidden rune, intent clear—detonation.

Lucian didn't hesitate. He slammed his palm into her chest, mana surging like chains. The rune's glow sputtered, smothered under his suppression.

Merci screamed, shadows wilting. She crumpled to her knees, curses spilling from her mouth.

"You'll regret this. You can't stop what's coming."

Lucian knelt, voice flat.

"You miscalculated. You chose fire. Now you choke on it."

He signaled Mira and Berry, who shackled Merci with mana chains. She thrashed, but the seals held, draining her strength. Hauled away, she spat curses, but her words were nothing more than noise.

Lucian turned back toward the square. Verus's voice carried as soldiers moved with newfound discipline. The rebellion had found its spine.

Luna met Lucian's gaze, chest still rising hard from the fight. She didn't smile—only gave a curt nod, as if this was expected.

"Secure her. No chances."

Lucian said.

"Yes."

Luna replied, voice steady.

Merci's shouts faded into the distance. Smoke and ash clung to the air, but beneath it came something else—woodsmoke, the scent of survival.

Lucian folded the night into memory: the general destroyed, the rebellion awake, Merci in chains. It wasn't victory—it was a balance sheet that hadn't yet collapsed. For now, that was enough.

Merci's body shook as Mira's chains tightened. Her shadows lashed once, twice, before unraveling into smoke.

The corruption fueling her slipped away, leaving her smaller, weaker. She spat blood, glaring at Lucian with something between fury and terror.

"You think cutting one thread will stop the weave? You know nothing. Others will come. Stronger than me. Stronger than that fool you just killed."

She hissed.

Lucian tilted his head, unimpressed.

"Then let them. I'll cut them too."

Her laugh was broken, half-delirious.

"You arrogant bastard… that's why you'll drown in this war."

Berry tugged her forward, ignoring her ranting. Mira followed, silent but sharp-eyed.

Lucian lingered, eyes narrowing at the faint traces of mana still clinging to the walls. This wasn't over. Merci hadn't lied about others—her presence here was proof enough.

She hadn't acted for herself, but at someone else's bidding.

"Trouble?"

Luna asked quietly, adjusting the dirt-stained hem of her cloak.

Lucian didn't answer immediately. Instead, he scanned the sky, where smoke rose over the settlement, glowing faintly under the torchlight.

The noise of soldiers and villagers echoed—hopeful, desperate, frightened all at once. A people at the edge of change.

Finally, he said.

"She wasn't working alone."

Luna frowned.

"Then more will come."

"Eventually. But not tonight. Tonight belongs to us."

Lucian's lips curved faintly, almost a smirk.

When they returned to the square, Verus had already restored order. The soldiers stood in formation, waiting for guidance.

The secretary was at his side, face pale but determined, issuing orders he would never have dared before. The weight of chains had lifted, and everyone felt it.

Cheers broke out as Lucian appeared, though he didn't raise his hand or bask in it. He simply let their noise carry, let them believe in their own strength.

Because that was what they needed now—not a savior, but a leader they could call their own.

And if that leader faltered, I would make sure someone else replaced him.

Lucian thought grimly without speaking out loud.