Liberation of The Slaves

Chapter 57 – Silent Fury

Blood.

It was everywhere.

Warm. Sticky. The metallic scent choked the air.

It was on my limbs. My face. My clothes.

My body trembled as my mind refused to piece together what had happened.

A massive greatsword loomed just inches from my head, its blade glistening with crimson.

Yet, it never reached me.

Because it had impaled them instead.

“Mom…? Dad…?”

My voice came out small. Weak.

I didn't want to look. I didn't want to see what I already knew.

But my eyes betrayed me.

Mom stood in front of me, shielding me with her body. Dad stood behind her, bracing her against the tree where I sat frozen.

Their bodies hunched forward, as if exhausted, as if they were only resting.

But they weren’t.

The greatsword had impaled them both.

I gasped, but no sound came out. My chest burned, my breath caught in my throat.

This wasn’t real.

This wasn’t happening.

Then—

Our gazes met.

And Mom smiled.

"I'm glad… you didn’t get hurt…"

Her voice was so soft. So gentle. Blood dripped from the corners of her lips, yet she still tried to comfort me.

Tears blurred my vision.

“No… no, no, no…”

Dad coughed, blood staining his teeth, but he chuckled weakly.

"Why do you look so sad…? Ah… right. I promised, didn’t I? If you proved your strength, I’d let you be an adventurer…"

He tried to smirk, but his lips quivered.

"Haha… your bravery, coming here, fighting them alone… you’ve already proven it. I approve."

No. I didn’t care about that anymore. I didn’t want that anymore.

I wanted them.

I wanted them alive.

But when I tried to say it, my lips only trembled. My voice was gone, swallowed by the unbearable weight pressing down on my chest.

I tried to shake my head, to tell them that I didn’t care about being an adventurer anymore.

That all I wanted was for them to stay with me.

But the words never came.

Only a broken whisper—

"No… No…"

Mom must have understood, because she reached out with a trembling hand, cupping my cheek.

Her fingers were warm, despite the blood that stained them.

"We’re sorry… we won’t be there to see you and your sisters grow up. But I know you three will become great adventurers someday…"

Dad exhaled a shaky breath, his eyes soft.

"That’s right… I know you’ll find your own freedom, Freed… and you’ll soar so high…"

Their voices were growing weaker.

No.

No, no, no, no—

"No… no… please…"

Mom’s thumb brushed away my tears—though whether they were mine or mixed with her blood, I couldn’t tell.

"The road ahead… will be painful. But no matter what happens—"

They spoke together, as if their very souls were woven into those words.

““We will always love you.””

Their eyes…

Their voices…

Their warmth…

All of it was fading.

"No… No… NO! MOM! DAD! Please—!"

I felt their weight shift.

Their bodies trembled.

Then—

*PSSHHH!*

The greatsword was ripped free.

Blood splattered across my face.

My parents’ bodies jerked.

For a brief moment, they gazed up at the sky as if searching for something.

A final, shuddering breath left their lips as the steel slid free from their flesh.

The bandit who wielded the weapon grinned down at me, resting the sword on his shoulder.

"Have you said your farewells?"

They slumped forward.

Their heads fell against my chest.

I reached out, fingers shaking, trying to hold onto them.

But—

"Noooooooooooooo!!!!"

The scream tore from my throat, raw and agonized, shaking the very air around me.

Then—like broken dolls—they tumbled to the ground.

One to my left.

One to my right.

But the world did not care.

They were gone.

— 3rd Party’s POV —

The battle was over.

The five of six remaining bandits slumped onto the ground, their bodies battered, their breaths heavy with exhaustion.

"Haa… finally, it's over…"

"I'm so tired…"

"I can't believe we survived, hah…!"

"We won…"

"Shit, we actually won—"

Laughter bubbled up among them—weak, relieved chuckles as they surveyed the carnage.

The leader, his greatsword resting lazily on his shoulder, smirked and turned toward his men.

"Oi. One of you, grab the brat. You know the deal—more kids, more money."

A bandit grumbled but got up, rolling his shoulders as he approached.

"Yeah, yeah. Salary's based on how many we deliver, right?"

He trudged toward the motionless boy slumped against the tree.

Freed sat there, unmoving.

Blood covered his entire body—his parents' blood.

His face was vacant, his eyes hollow, staring into the distance as if his soul had left him.

The bandit reached down and grabbed his arm.

"Oi, brat. Stand up. We’re leaving."

Freed moved.

His body swayed as he rose to his feet, though his eyes remained lifeless.

The bandit scoffed, shaking his head.

"Tch. Damn kid’s in shock. C’mon—"

He never finished his sentence.

The boy’s lips moved. A whisper, barely audible.

"Die."

The voice was quiet. Monotone. Yet it commanded the air itself.

The bandit barely had time to frown before—a flash of white appeared.

A thin blade of pure light materialized in Freed’s hand.

And in the next instant—

*PSHHH!*

His vision spun, his face still frozen in confusion.

The bandit’s head ripped from his shoulders.

It soared through the air.

A perfect, clean cut.

His body remained standing for a moment, twitching, blood gushing from the severed neck like a broken fountain. Then—

*Thud.*

The headless corpse collapsed.

The nearest bandit, the leader, snapped their heads toward the sound, furrowing his brow.

"The hell was—?"

Then, he saw it.

The boy stood amidst a downpour of blood, his navy-blue and crimson eyes glowing, his expression devoid of emotion.

His right hand trembled, as though something boiled inside him.

Then—

*FWOOSH!*

Fire erupted in his palm.

The leader barely had time to scream.

“Die.”

A blade of roaring flame shot forward—

Piercing his chest.

The bandit's mouth fell open in shock.

His fingers trembled as he touched the burning hole where his heart had been.

Then—

*BOOOOOM!*

His entire torso exploded.

Flesh, ribs, and organs scattered in flaming chunks, raining onto the ground like charred meat.

The third bandit gagged.

His hands shook as he stepped back, trying to process the nightmare before him.

"NO—STAY BACK!"

The boy didn't even move an inch from where he stood.

Only one word came out of his mouth.

"Die."

A streak of fire whipped through the air, slicing clean through the bandit’s neck.

His head rolled off his shoulders, hitting the ground with a sickening thud, his lifeless eyes still wide in shock.

Blood spurted like a geyser, painting the already crimson-stained earth.

The fourth bandit was already scrambling to his feet.

Panic clawed at his throat—his instincts screamed at him to run.

But the flames followed.

"Die."

A wall of fire erupted beneath him, swallowing him whole.

His body contorted in agony, his flesh melting as the fire raged.

"AAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!"

He collapsed, rolling, writhing, but it was useless.

The flames consumed him.

His screams faded, his charred body curling into itself, the sickening scent of burnt flesh thick in the air.

The fifth bandit watched in horror.

Sweat dripped down his face. His knees buckled.

"No… No…"

His fingers tightened around his sword, but his arms trembled.

Then—

The air changed.

The flames flickered—then vanished.

The wind howled.

*WHIIRRRR!*

A green aura erupted around Freed—violent, raging.

The trees shook.

Leaves were ripped from their branches.

The very earth trembled.

The bandit's breath caught.

The boy was no longer just a boy.

His ocean eye glowed as if it drowned the bandit’s breath.

His crimson eye glared like a beast hunting his prey.

And then—

The boy spoke.

"Die."

A blade of wind ripped through the air.

It hit the bandit like a guillotine.

His body split apart.

His torso slid sideways.

*PSHHH!*

Blood poured like a waterfall.

His arms twitched, still reaching toward his lower half—as if trying to put himself back together.

*Thud.*

The severed halves hit the ground.

Only one bandit remained—and he ran.

“NO…! NO….! NO! Spare me!”

Terror controlled him now—his only thought was escape.

He threw away his sword, sprinting through the trees.

But Freed’s outstretched hand followed him.

His fingers curled.

And he commanded the air itself.

"DIE!"

The wind roared.

A blade of raging gale screamed through the forest, splitting the very air.

The bandit turned—

Only to see his death racing toward him.

*PSSSSHHHHH!*

The wind blade cleaved him from hip to shoulder.

His body barely registered the pain before he fell apart.

Blood. Organs. Muscle.

All of it scattered, like a butchered animal.

For a moment, his upper half still moved.

His eyes rolled in terror. His hands grasped at empty air.

Then—

He collapsed in two pieces.

The green aura roared one last time—then flickered.

And just like that, the storm was gone.

The forest fell silent.

His breath ragged.

His vision darkened.

Freed’s legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the ground.

Then a voice echoed directly in his mind,

【Master, give me permission to manipulate your status.】

“Yes…”

With a solitary word, he closed his eyes slowly.

And before unconsciousness claimed him, two more bandits arrived—too late for the fight, but not for the spoils.

Their voices pierced through the void.

"Tsk. They all died."

"Wait, that kid's still alive."

"Oh? Then we should take him. More kids, more money."

"Yeah. But wipe his face first. Damaged goods sell cheap."

Freed’s fingers twitched.

His lips parted.

A single whisper escaped—soft, fragile.

“Mom… Dad…”

Darkness swallowed him.

But the voices he longed for were gone forever.