Liberation of The Slaves

Chapter 53 – The Fragile Girl Who Fought

— Celestia’s POV —

The battlefield rang with the clash of steel, the screams of the dying, and the thunder of shattering magic. Smoke and dust clouded the air, mingling with the iron scent of blood. The ground beneath me trembled with each step of the massive orcs, their guttural roars mixing with the desperate cries of knights and adventurers alike.

Through the chaos, I saw Daisy struggling against an orc’s attack. Its massive club swung down at her, a blow that would have crushed her ribs had she not barely dodged in time.

“Uwahh!”

Her horse reared in panic, nearly throwing her off. She scrambled to regain control, but the orc prepared another strike. My heart lurched.

"Water Ball!"

I chanted, thrusting my staff forward. A sphere of water shot toward the orc’s face, bursting on impact and forcing it to stagger back, temporarily blinded.

“Haha! Thank you, sis!”

“Keep going! I will cover you!”

Daisy took the opportunity, flashing me a grateful grin before urging her horse forward. She galloped toward the town’s wall, reaching the staircase leading up to the trapped defenders.

But the supply boxes strapped to her back weighed her down, slowing her movements.

If she tried to carry everything, the orcs would catch her before she could ascend.

"Just bring one box and go!" I shouted over the din of battle.

She hesitated for half a second before nodding. Abandoning the rest, she grabbed a single box and dashed up the stairs.

I watched her go, breath held, until she reached the top.

“What are you doing!?” the Earl barked as she arrived, his commanding presence undiminished despite his exhaustion.

"Obviously saving you and others!" Daisy shot back, already turning to descend for another run. “There are still a few boxes below, so I will bring them right away!”

The Earl’s sharp gaze softened for a moment before he took over distributing the potions.

I’m glad his competence in this dire situation mirrored the admirable qualities of Madam Sheila. Because I heard nobles usually just bring troubles and only care about themselves.

With him handling that, Daisy could focus solely on ferrying supplies, and I—

I clenched my staff tighter.

I had to keep the orcs from reaching the stairs, protecting the supplies behind me until Daisy carried them all.

Our strategy prioritized supplying the mages and archers positioned on the wall instead of close-fighters who were injured.

Healing the injured took time with so few healers present.

Moreover, they could get injured again if they engaged in close combat against the orcs.

Swinging off my horse, I landed on the blood-slicked ground and braced myself.

The orcs had already noticed me, their beady red eyes narrowing as they snarled.

They were coming.

And I had no time to be afraid.

I raised my staff, my fingers tingling as mana surged through me.

"Water Bind!"

Water swirled from my staff, lashing out like living chains to ensnare the closest orcs.

Their thick, muscled legs fought against the restraints, but I forced the tendrils tighter, restricting their movements.

The orcs bellowed in fury, clawing at the water constricting their limbs.

"Water Spear!"

I conjured a sharp, high-pressure spear of water and launched them with precision. It struck the nearest orcs square in the eyes.

“RAAWWRR!”

Their roars turned into howls of agony as they staggered back, blinded.

*RUMBLE!*

The orcs behind them didn't see their faltering comrades until it was too late—feet tangled in the bodies of the fallen, they tripped, their momentum sending them crashing down.

I exhaled sharply.

That was five seconds gained.

Five seconds for Daisy to run up the stairs with another box.

But it wasn’t enough.

More orcs advanced, stepping over their fallen kin, their monstrous hands tightening around their weapons.

One of them—a hulking brute nearly twice my height—let out a guttural growl before lunging forward, his massive club swinging in a wide arc.

*SWOOSH!*

I barely ducked, the club whistling past my head, close enough that I felt the displaced air brush against my cheek.

Too damn close.

I struck back without hesitation.

"Water Blade!"

I flicked my wrist, and a thin, crescent-shaped slice of water shot from my staff, aimed at the orc's throat.

*Shhkk!*

A thin red line appeared across his thick neck, but the wound was too shallow. Not enough force.

I was too weak.

He bared his fangs, eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure.

Then he swung again.

*WHAAMM!*

I twisted my body, barely evading the downward smash of his club.

The impact sent a tremor through the ground, dust and debris kicking up around us.

I stumbled, my footing slipping for a crucial heartbeat—

Another orc lunged at me from the side, faster than I expected.

I barely raised my staff before his clawed fingers clamped around my throat.

My feet left the ground.

Pain exploded through my body as my back slammed into the dirt. The air in my lungs whooshed out in a choked gasp.

The orc snarled, pinning me down with one meaty hand around my staff. His other hand raised a club, aiming straight for my throat.

No time to cast.

No time to think.

I kicked upward with everything I had, my boot slamming into his wrist.

The club wavered for a second.

That was all I needed.

“Water Ball!”

A sphere of condensed water formed in my palm, and I pressed it against his chest. The moment it made contact, I released the built-up pressure.

The water exploded, blasting the orc backward.

He stumbled, giving me the chance to scramble to my feet, panting, my vision spinning.

But other orcs were already upon me.

And I kept fighting.

— 3rd Party’s POV —

From atop the wall, the defenders watched the battlefield unfold in brutal, merciless waves.

The knights below clashed against the orc horde, their weapons slick with blood, their bodies bruised and battered. The archers and mages, drained from prolonged combat, struggled to maintain their volleys. The exhausted men atop the wall clutched their weapons with trembling hands, their hearts heavy with the knowledge that if the line below broke, the town would fall.

And yet, amidst the tide of monstrous foes…

In the middle of the battlefield where no sane person should stand alone—

A single, small figure refused to fall.

A young girl, barely more than a child.

They saw her dismount her horse and fight.

They saw her weave through the battlefield with desperate, calculated movements.

They saw her magic lash out—not to kill, but to hinder, to disrupt, to buy them time.

She lacked the strength to cut down an orc.

She lacked the power to break their charge.

And yet—she fought.

She fought against creatures twice, three times her size.

She fought despite knowing she was weaker.

She fought knowing she could die.

Her water magic, weak in raw power compared to the mages on the wall, still found purpose.

She bound orcs’ legs, blinded their eyes, forced them to stumble—small acts that made the difference between survival and slaughter.

They saw her get hit.

They saw her body fly across the dirt, heard the sickening crack of impact.

They saw her struggle to stand.

And still—she did.

It wasn’t the magic that captivated them.

It wasn’t her sloppy movement.

It was her back.

Her small, fragile back, facing the enemy.

Facing the orcs. Facing death.

Facing all of it.

A girl too young to be here.

A girl who, by all rights, should be cowering behind them.

And yet, she was below, bleeding for them.

A low-ranked adventurer. A child.

Fighting to save men older, stronger, and more experienced than her.

They felt ashamed.

They felt admiration.

They felt… something rekindle in their hearts.

A trembling knight, who had been ran away atop, gripping the wall in despair, tightened his hold on his weapon.

An exhausted archer, whose hands had faltered, straightened his shoulders.

A mage who had doubted his remaining strength clenched his fists.

The sight of her—of that lone, stubborn back standing against the impossible—ignited a fire in them.

It was an absurd, ridiculous, utterly reckless sight.

In that moment—

Her small frame loomed larger than any warrior on that battlefield.

Larger than the mages.

Larger than the knights.

Larger even than the monstrous orcs.

She was fighting for them.

She was bleeding for them.

And so—

They would fight for her.

— Celestia’s POV —

Three of them.

I couldn’t fight them all at once.

I could hear Daisy’s footsteps above me, running back down the stairs for another box. I needed to buy her more time.

My mind raced. I had to be smarter. I wasn’t strong enough to overpower them.

So I had to be faster.

I spun my staff, shifting my stance.

Breathe. Focus. Think.

The first orc charged, his massive cleaver descending toward my head.

Water Manipulation.

I shifted the water beneath my feet, making the surface frictionless.

Instead of dodging, I let myself slide out of his reach, his blade slicing through empty air.

The second orc swung a spiked club at my midsection.

I let my momentum carry me, twisting at the last second—barely avoiding the jagged spikes meant to rupture my ribs.

The third orc was faster.

The orc general.

Before I could fully recover, he lashed out with a backhanded strike.

*WHAAPP!*

I flew backward, pain detonating in my side.

My body hit the ground hard, skidding through the dirt.

My arms trembled as I tried to push myself up.

But I couldn't.

*Cough!*

I coughed, tasting blood in my mouth.

The orc general walked toward me, slow and confident, savoring my imminent death.

I barely had the strength to raise my staff.

<"...This is it. I'm going to die.">

The thought sent ice-cold dread through my veins.

<“Daisy… Freed… Mom… Dad… I’m sorry…”>

Would they even find my body? Or would it be trampled beneath the horde?

The orc general raised his halberd.

I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for the final blow.

Then—

*BOOM!*

The world erupted in fire and sound.

When I opened my eyes, the orc closest to me was stumbling back, his face scorched and smoking.

And he collapsed onto the ground.

*WHAPP!*

the orc general died just like that.

“If you dare to die, I may not be able to see your cute little brother’s happy face anymore, you know!?”

I blinked through the haze.

“Shuri…?”

There she was—leaping from the wall, landing atop a fallen orc, her brown eyes gleaming with mischief and concern.

The flirtatious C-Rank female adventurer with a penchant for trying to captivate my brother Freed while eyeing discounts on her meals. With her tanned skin, brown hair and eyes, big chest, and a provocative appearance, she was a master at seduction.

Annoyance pricked at me whenever I saw her attempt to charm my adorable Freed—especially considering she was eighteen years older than him.

Yet, beyond her flirtatious exterior, Shuri was a kind and helpful senior adventurer who had guided us on several occasions.

“W-Where are you looking at!?” she barked, her cheeks slightly pink. “There are still more orcs nearby!”

Her arrival snapped me back to reality.

I inhaled sharply.

No.

I wasn’t going to die here.

Not while Daisy was still running up those stairs.

Not while Freed was waiting for us back home.

I grabbed my staff, planted my feet, and rose to stand beside Shuri.

The fight wasn’t over.

The Earl, having seen it all, barked his next command.

"Mages, shield that girl! Archers, take down the orcs attacking the knights!”

Magic and arrow-shaped aura rained down from the wall above.

Fire, ice, and lightning crashed into the orcs, creating momentary gaps in their ranks.

“Go climb! I will cover your back!”

Staggering to my feet, I turned and ran up the stairs, heart pounding—trusting Shuri to guard my back as she followed.

Daisy and I stood atop the wall at last, panting, drenched in sweat and dirt. Below, the battle still raged, but the tide was shifting.

"Here, drink this," the Earl said, pressing a mana potion and a health potion into my hands.

“Eh…?” I shook my head weakly. "N-No, sir. I don’t need it. The others—"

“You also need it. Take it."

His tone left no room for argument. I swallowed hard before accepting the potions and drinking them in slow gulps.

"You too," he said, turning to Daisy. "You used aura on your feet to run faster, didn’t you?"

Daisy blinked. "Ah… Yes… Um… Thank you, Sir!”

She drank the aura potion he gave her, and for a brief moment, the exhaustion lifted.

The Earl watched us both for a long time before speaking again, his voice quieter.

"You two are Glacius' daughters." His eyes darkened. "I would feel guilty if I couldn’t help my savior’s daughters.”

The weight of his words settled over me.

He knew our father.

Daisy and I exchanged a glance, but neither of us said anything.

There wasn’t time.

Below us, the orcs roared, regrouping.

The battle wasn’t over yet.

But Daisy and I had bought precious time.

The fight for Lavender Town’s survival continued.

And this time…

We would not falter.