Liberation of The Slaves

Chapter 52 – Dancing Amidst Death

— Celestia’s POV —

The air was thick with tension, the scent of iron and sweat mingling with the acrid burn of magic in the wind. From atop Lavender Town’s sturdy walls, the Earl’s voice thundered over the battlefield.

"Warriors, charge!"

““HAAAAAAAAA!!!””

A deafening roar erupted from the assembled adventurers and knights as they surged forward, their weapons raised, crashing into the tide of green-skinned monsters beyond the gates. The orcs, over two thousand strong, howled in defiance, their brutish forms glistening with sweat and blood under the overcast sky.

"Mages, focus on boosting them first!"

A pulse of shimmering light rippled across the battlefield, magic surging through the fighters, heightening their speed and strength. Swords flashed, steel clashed, and the shrieks of the dying—both human and orc—pierced the sky.

"Archers, take down the orcs in the back!"

Arrows rained down from the town’s walls, striking the orcs with deadly precision. Some creatures collapsed instantly, their thick skulls no match for a well-aimed shot. Others roared in rage, their injured brethren only fueling their ferocity.

But it wasn’t enough.

There were too many orcs.

Inside the walls, away from the frontline, Daisy and I, along with other low-ranked adventurers, sprinted through the cobblestone streets, my navy-blue hair clinging to my sweat-drenched face.

Supplies were in high demand—mana potions, aura potions, bandages—anything that could keep our fighters standing.

"I need a mana potion!"

"I'm coming!" I called, rushing to a collapsed mage gasping for air.

"Aura potion, quickly!"

"Take this!" Daisy tossed the vial into the outstretched hands of a knight, his face smeared with dirt and blood.

Healers moved like shadows through the chaos, hands glowing as they patched up wounds. But there were too few of them, and too many wounded. Some fighters barely had time to stand before they were cut down again.

*BOOM!* *BOOM!*

The explosions outside never stopped.

Explosions thundered beyond the gate, a grim symphony of destruction. The ground quaked with each burst of magic, each stomp of a charging orc.

Every glance revealed severed limbs, blood-streaked faces, and the brutal toll of the relentless onslaught.

Adventurers screamed in pain, blades snapped, shields splintered. The battlefield churned with bodies, human and orc entangled in a violent dance of survival.

Yet through it all, I felt… nothing.

As I mounted a guild horse to fetch more supplies, Daisy rode beside me, her golden hair streaked with dirt and sweat but her crimson eyes still bright.

The battlefield, the chaos, the endless rush of bodies—none of it left room for deep thought.

Yet, as I gripped the reins of my horse, galloping toward the supply depot with Daisy at my side, my mind drifted away from the immediate horror.

My hands were moving, my body acting on instinct, but inside—inside, my mind was somewhere else.

Somewhere far away. Somewhere back home.

The dirt roads leading to our village, where the scent of freshly baked bread from our mother’s kitchen filled the morning air. The warmth of the sun filtering through the wooden shutters. The distant laughter of Freed as he trained in the fields, our father correcting his stance. I could see it so clearly, almost hear it through the echoes of battle.

And yet…

Daisy’s voice pulled me back.

"Sis… ever since Freed left town, I’ve had a bad feeling. Something’s going to happen to him.”

Her voice was light, but the unease beneath it was unmistakable.

It wasn’t unusual for Daisy to be worried about Freed. In truth, between the two of us, she was always the one who fussed over him more. Always sensing when something was wrong.

But this time, something in her voice was different.

A quiet tremble.

A rare uncertainty.

I wanted to brush it off. I wanted to tell her not to be ridiculous.

But the words wouldn't come.

Instead, I swallowed, forcing steadiness into my voice.

"All we can do is hope for the best—for him, for our parents.”

Daisy looked straight ahead, her crimson eyes fixed on the horizon, lips pressed into a thin line. "Hope for the best…" she murmured, as if testing the words.

The problem was, neither of us truly believed these words.

I tightened my grip on the reins, knuckles white. My chest felt heavy, like a weight pressing down on me. While Daisy was worried about Freed, I was worried about Mom and Dad.

And it was the first time I felt like this.

Freed was strong. I knew that. I had seen him fight, seen the fire in his eyes when he trained. He had a spirit that wouldn’t break, a determination that set him apart.

But strength wasn’t always enough.

And Daisy—

Daisy’s intuition had always been right.

She knew when Freed was sick before he ever showed symptoms. She sensed when he had fallen, even when we were miles away. Her intuition about him was something eerie, something beyond mere sisterly instinct.

And if she was saying this now…

I bit my lip, trying to suppress the growing dread.

What if he was in danger? What if something had already happened?

What if—

No.

No, I couldn’t think like that.

Nothing could happen to them.

I turned to Daisy, forcing a smile I didn’t quite feel. "They’re fine. They have to be.”

She looked at me for a long moment, searching my face. Then, she smiled too—but it was small, fragile. A mask, just like mine.

"Yeah. They have to be."

But neither of us said anything else. Because deep down, we both knew the truth.

Hope was not certainty.

And Daisy’s bad feelings were never wrong.

Yet, we clung to the hope that…

Just this once—

Her intuition would prove wrong.

The battle raged on, but the defenders were tiring. Nearly an hour had passed since the first clash of steel, and the orc numbers had only dwindled to 1500. It wasn’t enough.

The knights, despite their strength, were struggling. The adventurers fought valiantly, but exhaustion was setting in. The healers could barely keep up.

Then—

The battle had become a nightmare.

The once-thunderous war cries of adventurers and knights had faded into something broken, something desperate.

Their voices no longer rang with conviction, only with exhaustion and panic.

The orcs were still coming. No matter how many fell, the ones behind them surged forward, trampling their dead underfoot, their roars shaking the very air.

“All warriors, retreat to the town before you're surrounded!”

The Earl’s command echoed across the battlefield, but there was no order in the retreat—only chaos.

Knights, adventurers, anyone still alive—they turned and ran, hacking and slashing just to create enough space to escape. The wounded crawled or were dragged by their comrades, leaving streaks of blood on the ground.

The unlucky ones—those who had lost too much blood, those too weak to move—were left behind.

The gates slammed shut behind the last wave of retreating fighters.

For a moment, just a moment, I thought maybe—maybe—we had held them back. Maybe we had bought enough time.

Then, the orcs smashed through.

*WHAAAMM!*

A massive warlord, bigger than any I had ever seen, slammed his halberd into the gates, splintering them like thin wood. With one final, earth-shaking crash, the entrance to Lavender Town burst open, and the horde poured inside.

“RAAAAWR”

“Arrrggh!”

“H-Help me!!”

Screams erupted from the streets. The clatter of metal against metal, the wet sound of steel cutting flesh, the heavy thud of bodies hitting the ground—it all became a single, deafening noise.

"Hold the gate! Kill any orcs that get through!"

But it was hopeless.

The first to fall were those closest to the entrance.

A knight raised his shield to parry an orc’s club—but the sheer force shattered it like glass, hurling him against a nearby wall.

A pair of adventurers attempted to hold their ground, but an orc grabbed one and ripped him apart with his bare hands.

The orcs stormed deeper into the town. They killed without hesitation, without mercy.

And the people still atop the wall—the mages, the archers, the Earl himself—they were trapped.

I looked up and saw them staring down at the carnage below.

Their expressions were twisted in horror, in helplessness.

Their arrows were gone.

Their aura and mana depleted.

Some clutched their weapons with shaking fingers, their bodies stood still, unable to do anything.

“This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.”

A young adventurer atop of the wall, barely older than me, trembling as he saw the grim scene before us.

A tanned mage beside him, her robes torn, clenched her hands into fists. Blood trickled from her nose—a sign of mana exhaustion.

She had given everything she had, and now she had nothing left.

And yet, she stood.

She stood, despite the hopelessness.

Despite the knowledge that they would all die up there if the orcs reached the stairs.

I turned my gaze back to the ground level. The remaining adventurers and knights were fighting, but their movements were sluggish, their attacks weaker. They were tired. The battle had drained them, worn them down to the bone.

One of the knights tried to rally them.

"We can still win! Hold the line! HOLD THE LINE!"

But no one responded.

The flame of resistance had been snuffed out.

Then, the first low-ranking adventurer ran.

It was a young man, barely more than a boy. He turned, dropped the supplies, and bolted.

"I—I don’t want to die!" he screamed.

Another followed. Then another.

And suddenly, it wasn’t just a few—it was dozens.

Low-ranking adventurers—those who had sworn to support—were abandoning their comrades, shoving past the wounded, fleeing for their lives.

My breath caught in my throat as I watched them scatter, their fear infecting the battlefield like a disease. The few who remained hesitated, their grips on their weapons faltering.

The orcs saw the weakness. They saw the fear.

And they laughed.

A deep, guttural, mocking laughter that spread through their ranks like wildfire.

Daisy and I stood frozen amid the chaos, still holding potions, still trying to help—but no one was left to take them. The healers trembled, unable to do anything. The last of the low-ranking adventurers had abandoned their posts.

It was just us now.

Just the two of us.

What should I do now…?

My mind screamed at me to run. My body tensed, ready to grab Daisy and flee while we still had a chance.

I knew most adventurers here, so I hesitated to leave them.

But—saving Daisy was still my priority.

Yet—Daisy wasn’t looking at me.

She was staring at the battlefield, her eyes burning with something I couldn’t quite understand.

“Ugh! Dammit! What are you thinking about, sis!? The answer is obvious!”

Daisy's rebuke cut through my indecision.

With urgency coloring our options, she underscored the glaring reality—we had to flee for our lives.

The dilemma weighed heavily, however, a flicker of determination crept into Daisy's eyes as she prepared to mount her horse.

Her intent was clear—escape the danger.

But—

She did the most insane thing I had ever seen her do.

She turned toward the orcs.

And charged.

“W-Wait! Daisy! Where are you going!?”

"I can’t face Freed proudly if I run instead of helping!"

Her voice rang across the battlefield, slicing through the chaos like a blade

And for the first time since the battle started, I hesitated.

I could still run.

I could still save myself.

But if I did…

Could I face Freed?

If I left Daisy alone…

Could I even face myself?

My hands trembled as I looked at Daisy, already disappearing into the chaos.

And then, before I could stop myself—

“Arrghh! I don’t know anymore!”

But I did know.

I grabbed the remaining supplies.

I mounted my horse.

And I rode after her.

In the end, my choice had already been made.

The world blurred into chaos as Daisy rode forward, her golden hair flashing like fire under the bloodied sky.

The orcs lunged for her, their massive hands reaching, their weapons slamming into the ground just inches from her horse’s hooves. Each step was a gamble. Each second, another brush with death.

*Wham!*

An orc’s club came down in front of her, splitting the cobblestone street like fragile ice. Her horse reared, hooves scraping the air, and in that instant, she twisted her body, pressing low against the saddle.

Go faster.

Another orc lunged—a brute with jagged scars lining his chest. He swiped at her reins, his fingers closing around them for a fraction of a second—

*Snap!*

Daisy yanked back with all her strength, tearing the reins free just as her horse kicked forward, narrowly escaping the monster’s grasp.

“Haha… Hahahaha!”

She let out a wild laugh, her crimson eyes gleaming in the firelight.

I wasn’t far behind.

I gritted my teeth, urging my horse faster, my heart hammering against my ribs. Every second, an orc’s weapon came down just beside me, crushing the ground, sending debris flying.

The town had become a maze of death.

A massive club shot toward me—

I threw my weight to the side, ducking low, the cold stone passed through the air just inches from my head.

*WHAAMM!*

Daisy swerved through the chaos like a storm, forcing the orcs to react to her speed, making them stumble, collide, trip over one another. She weaved between their massive bodies, every movement instinctual, every dodge impossibly perfect.

“Hahahaha!”

I had never seen her like this before.

“Isn’t this thrilling!? This is a real adventure! I love it!”

Her delicate figure was like a wildfire dancing through a field of giants.

I knew she was crazy, but I never knew that she was this insane!

Daisy was already too far ahead to see it, but I didn’t care.

I had to make sure she reached the wall.

I spurred my horse harder, gritting my teeth against the sting of the wind.

We are getting close now.

The stone walls loomed before us, towering above the battlefield like a beacon.

Orcs still blocked the way, their numbers swelling, their hunger for slaughter thick in the air.

But Daisy never slowed.

And suddenly—

A towering orc stood in our path, his black armor gleaming under the firelight. His weapon was an iron halberd, large enough to split a house in half.

He was the one who broke the gate.

He raised his weapon, preparing to bring it down.

Daisy leaned forward, her body too calm, her hands steady.

And then—

At the last possible second, she twisted the reins, throwing her horse into a sharp, impossible turn.

*WHAAAMM!*

The halberd missed by a breath, carving into the stone road instead, sending shards flying like shrapnel.

Before the orc general could recover, Daisy kicked off the side of his weapon, using it as a springboard.

Then—

Her horse soared over him.

A breathtaking, impossible leap.

I almost forgot to breathe.

“Yahooooo!”

Her cheerful laughter was like an innocent kid who was unaware of the danger around her.

The orc turned, stunned, his massive eyes following her in disbelief.

But Daisy was already gone, her horse’s hooves slamming against the ground on the other side.

And then—

“Heh…” A small chuckle escaped my mouth.

I felt it.

I felt the thrill she was talking about.

And—

“Haha… Hahahaha!”

I let it out loud.

“Wait for your punishment later, Daisy!”

I clenched my jaw, every muscle in my body screaming for control. And—

I poured every ounce of focus into following her path.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to us…

The knights and adventurers we passed through, those who had been losing hope, those who had begun to falter, those who had started to retreat—

They saw us.

They felt the unbreakable spirit in our recklessness.

And something in them stirred—Their hearts.

Weapons that had begun to lower lifted once more, gripped with renewed determination.

Feet that had begun to step back moved forward instead.

Unbeknownst to us—

The battlefield roared to life again.