Liberation of The Slaves

Chapter 70 – A Princess Beneath the Moonlight

*Clang* *Clang* *Clang*

The song of suffering rang through the caverns, iron kissing stone again and again. Pickaxes split golden veins under pale torchlight, the tremble of every blow echoing off the stone like the drums of some long-forgotten war. My fingers ached, skin split and raw, but I kept digging. We all did. Fifty of us—men and boys, hollowed by hunger, shaped into extensions of tools.

The air stank of sweat, old blood, and exhaustion. And still we dug.

The sun had begun to set when what passed for salvation called from above.

"Stop! Today work is over! Come! Pick one bread for each person!"

His voice—our master’s—rang from the mouth of the cavern, smug and hollow. The pickaxes halted, and with mechanical resignation, we trudged out of the darkness into the dying light of the setting sun.

We obeyed like puppets on rotting strings. One line. One piece of stale bread each. Rations for survival, not life.

Fifty of us. Some grown men, mostly mere boys like me. All skin and bone, ghostly pale from years without sunlight. I knew none of their names. Bonds were rare here unless forged in life before the chains. Some huddled together. Others, like me, always ate alone. It was safer that way.

In the monotony of what seemed like just another ordinary day, a sudden disruption shattered the routine.

“Grrrrrr—”

A low, guttural sound, primal and close. We turned toward the treeline. Shadows moved within. Then—

They stepped out.

From the nearby forest, thirty wolves stalked into view—fur the color of dried blood, eyes glowing with hunger, limbs taut with muscle and menace. They moved with the precision of seasoned predators, their red pelts catching the last gold light of day like embers.

Aza's voice, ever calm even in chaos, rang in my mind.

【Master! Stay calm. Listen to me. Those are Red Wolves. C-Rank monsters—dangerous in packs. Go to the back, don’t run.】

The breath caught in my throat. As I followed Aza’s instructions, someone muttered.

“Wha… what…?”

That was their mistake.

*Zzzk—!!*

The man’s body arched violently. His eyes rolled back, mouth twisted into a silent scream. The collar around his neck surged with electricity, the glow a pale and merciless blue.

We weren’t just forbidden to flee. We were forbidden to speak.

The collars didn’t care if we were afraid. The moment sound escaped our lips, we were punished.

“MONSTE—ARRRGHHHH!!”

Another tried to cry out, but the collar cut him off—his throat lit like a fuse. His body convulsed, foaming at the mouth, then dropped like a sack of flesh and bones.

The wolves howled as if laughing.

Then they charged.

“R-Run!” someone shrieked.

*Zzzk—!!*

Another collapse.

Screams erupted everywhere—but none reached their end. Agonized mouths stretched wide, only to be met with jolts of searing electricity and the snap of bones hitting stone. Every voice was punished. Every cry shorted out into gurgling silence. Bodies hit the dirt. Eyes wide, jaws frozen mid-scream, locked in electrocuted horror.

The wolves struck like lightning.

They moved like crimson death, jaws unhinged, claws flashing. They hit the front lines first—those closest to the treeline. Men who tried to run were caught mid-step, their collars paralyzing them instantly.

One man froze just as a wolf slammed into him, ripping his torso from his hips. His upper body hit the ground with a wet slap, his entrails trailing like butcher's scraps.

*SNAP!*

A boy no older than twelve turned to flee—he didn’t make it far.

*Zzzk—!!*

His legs stiffened, and he collapsed mid-run. A wolf pounced, and its teeth sank into his neck, ripping his head back with a sickening crack.

“AAAUUUGH—!!”

*Zzzk—!!*

His scream fried his nerves before the wolf's jaws even reached his chest.

They swarmed the runners first—those who turned to flee. Their collars paralyzed them mid-stride, and the wolves tore into frozen flesh like meat hung on hooks.

A man tripped, his leg broken by panic. He raised a trembling hand for help—

*CHOMP*

His arm was gone. Blood shot like a fountain across the dirt. He opened his mouth to scream—Zzzk!—and collapsed, smoke rising from his throat as a wolf cracked his ribs open with one bite.

Others fled toward the cave. A fatal mistake.

The cave had one way in. No way out.

“NOOO! NO—”

*Zzzk—!!*

They were cornered within seconds. The echoes from inside were unspeakable—wet tearing, snapping bone, muffled shrieks cut short by collars or claws.

Mud turned to crimson.

Bodies collapsed, convulsed, twitched in bloody heaps.

Screams became whispers.

Blood misted the air like rain.

It was a slaughter.

And through the storm of screams and slaughter, a voice cut through—a shrill, sharp bark. So human. So desperate.

“You all! Stay here while I’m running away!!”

It was him.

The master.

Standing at the edge of the chaos, his robe flapping like a coward’s flag, sweat pouring down his fat cheeks.

His voice trembled, but it was loud enough. Clear enough.

He wasn’t giving a command to protect us. He was throwing us to the wolves: Stay here and die while I run.

Some looked at him with pleading eyes, but he didn’t spare a glance. He turned—tried to flee.

And that was when everything snapped.

One of the wolves—larger, older, its red coat darker than blood—locked onto him. Its growl rose into a deep-chested roar, and it charged.

“Help me! HELP—!”

The master shrieked. His legs barely moved before tangling beneath him. He crashed down hard. The wolf slammed into him, claws ripping into his stomach. He writhed, choking on his own blood. His final cry drowned in a wet gurgle as the monster bit deep into his shoulder, shredding through fat and sinew.

*CRACK!*

His bones snapped like brittle twigs.

“AAARRRGHH—!!” his last cry came as nothing more than a bubbling moan before the wolf’s jaws closed around his skull.

*CRUNCH*

As death claimed him, the first collar hit the ground.

*Clang*

Then another.

*Clang*

Then all of them.

*CLANG*

Dozens of iron bands shattered, splitting at the seams, glowing dimly one last time before hitting the dirt with finality. A sound like broken chains whispered through the field.

We were free.

But the horror wasn’t over.

A voice echoed in my mind—another screamed aloud.

【Run Now!】

“RUNNN!”

No punishment followed. The restrictions were gone.

And so we ran. All of us.

Scattered like insects under firelight.

But freedom didn’t mean safety.

Behind me, I heard the cries of those too slow.

“I—! I can’t—!”

“NOOOO!!”

*CHOMP*

One boy tripped. A wolf lunged. His back was torn open, his spine exposed like a snapped rod.

“Help! PLEASE!” The last word was swallowed by teeth.

“Noooo! I don’t want to die!”

More bodies dropped. Some froze in terror. Others hesitated, trying to help fallen friends—only to die beside them. Anguished pleas echoed behind me, but I pressed forward, refusing to glance back as the desperate cries lingered in the air.

I ran.

No thoughts. No destination. Just motion—just escape.

I bolted through the trees, legs screaming, breath ragged, boots slipping on blood-slick soil. Branches whipped my face. The air reeked of iron and burnt flesh. The sounds behind me—the snarling, the screaming, the tearing—grew distant. But only barely.

Something darted past me—a blur of movement—a slave who’d outrun me. Then I heard it. A growl, low and vicious. He didn’t make it far.

*CRUNCH!*

A strangled scream burst behind me, followed by the wet sound of tearing flesh. I didn’t look. I couldn’t afford to.

My lungs burned. My legs trembled. But I ran harder.

A flash of red streaked beside me—a wolf, flanking to cut me off.

“No…!”

I ducked under a low branch, leapt over a gnarled root, stumbled, caught myself.

The forest closed in—thick with roots and thorns, as if the land itself conspired to slow me down. I swerved around a tree just as a wolf lunged from behind it, jaws snapping inches from my face. I threw myself to the side, rolled across the mud, came up gasping and running again.

Another wolf to my left. It charged.

I veered right—too slow. Too late.

It lunged.

*Shhk—!*

I felt it before I heard it. Pain lanced through my back—hot, tearing pain. The force of the strike sent me sprawling. My body hit the ground hard, bouncing once before sliding across the slick earth.

“Ghhaah!!”

I choked on dirt and blood, groaning as I forced myself to move.

The world spun.

I tried to push myself up, but the wolf was already on me.

Its weight crushed my chest. Massive paws pinned my arms to the ground. Its breath curled against my face—hot, fetid, eager.

Our eyes locked. I could see it. I could feel it. The hunger in its eyes.

“Grrr...”

Its lips peeled back to reveal rows of jagged fangs, drool trailing down onto my cheek. I thrashed, kicked, screamed—but it held me tight, claws digging deeper into my shoulders. My back flared with pain, blood seeping into the soil beneath me.

My heart thundered.

But, I calmly spoke to my only companion for the last time—

<”Sorry, Aza... You failed again. But still—thank you.”>

【...It’s an honor to serve, Master. I’m sorry too.】

The wolf's jaws stretched wide—impossibly wide—its breath thick and foul, eyes glowing with the thrill of the kill. I clenched my eyes shut. My voice trembled as I mouthed the names of my family, faces flickering through my mind like dying stars.

“Mom... Dad... Sissy... Sis Celes... I’m coming… I can almost feel your warmth again…”

The wolf's breath washed over me.

As I accepted my death, a beautiful, elegant voice entered my ears.

“Sorry, boy. You won’t join them so soon.”

*Slash!*

A sound sharp enough to silence the world. A blade tearing through bone and sinew as effortlessly as wind parting mist.

Something warm splashed across my face. The weight pressing me down vanished.

I opened my eyes.

The wolf’s body lay beside me—lifeless, cleaved from shoulder to hip. Its eyes still blinked in confusion, not yet understanding it had died. Blood pooled beneath it, spreading fast across the earth, soaking into the ragged trail I had crawled through.

And then I saw her.

She stood framed against the glowing canvas of the setting sun, silver hair dancing in the wind like strands of starlight. The light behind her bathed her in gold, turning her silhouette into a vision—half-angel, half-dream, something too beautiful for this blood-soaked world. For a moment, time forgot to move. Even the air held its breath.

Her posture was relaxed—almost casual—but the way she held her sword, loosely at her side, dripping with fresh blood, told a different story. Her blade was shimmering and elegant, double-edged, its surface etched with pale light that pulsed softly. It flickered with a serene, beautiful white flame. The hilt shimmered with a quiet, unnatural red, like the last ember of a dying star.

Her attire defied classification—not armor, not a gown, but something between them, shimmered like something woven from dreams. A flowing armor-dress, seamless and sculpted, clung to her form like it had been spun from moonlight and starlight itself. The fabric shimmered in hues of pale silver and midnight blue, threaded with veins of faint gold that pulsed gently with her every movement—alive, responsive, protective.

The bodice wrapped high around her neck, sleeveless and sleek, with a subtle taper that flared into a short skirt layered like the petals of a celestial flower. The fabric at her upper chest dipped gently into a wide arc, baring the smooth, pale expanse of her collarbones and revealing just a hint of the soft valley of her cleavage. It framed her throat and shoulders like an artist’s showcase, exposed yet untouchable. The outermost layer was translucent and edged with faint, luminous gold, revealing glimpses of darker layers beneath. Beneath the skirt, practical dark shorts peeked out.

A belt woven from silver-threaded mythril encircled her waist, drawn together by a flame-shaped clasp that gleamed with quiet magic. It shimmered with her every movement, flowing like cloth yet bearing the strength of steel. Nestled firmly at her hip, a small half-moon bag of smooth white leather rested still, its edges kissed with faint gold thread and a silver flame embossed upon its flap. Twin white loops tethered it to the mythril belt, a seamless adornment both delicate and enduring amid the celestial grace of her attire.

Her arms were sheathed in long, smooth navy gloves, the fabric enchanted, fitted so tightly it might’ve been painted on. Faint glowing veins, like starlight in motion, pulsed beneath them. No steel bracers—just spellwoven elegance.

On her legs, dark knee-high socks hugged sculpted muscles, ending just below the curve of her knees and leaving the smooth expanse of her upper thighs bare beneath the silky hem of her skirt. Her white shoes—flat, silent, elegant—seemed to leave no footprint behind, as if the world refused to mark her passage.

Her appearance was silent proof that she was neither an ornament nor decoration. She was built for battle, but sculpted for awe, like a blade wrapped in beauty.

But it was her face that stole the breath from my lungs.

Regal.

Elegant.

Beautiful.

Her skin glowed with a porcelain-white radiance, unmarred by time or war. Not even dust clung to her. Her cheeks were smooth, the lines of her jaw elegant, proud—but soft. Her golden eyes were luminous, glowing faintly like orbs of starlight pulled down to earth. Her expression was calm, and her silver eyebrows arched with subtle precision—like clouds cradling light.

Her lips were shaped in a quiet, unreadable smile—not amused, not cold. Just... kind. Soft. Like someone who had walked out of a fairy tale, sword in hand, and wandered into a nightmare by accident.

She wasn’t a goddess.

She wasn’t a queen.

She was like a princess—the kind the stars might protect.

But not a helpless one.

The silence after the kill lingered like reverence. Then another wolf charged from the side.

She didn’t even look.

*Slash*

I could hear the sword slashing. However, the sword's ethereal arc resonated with the swiftness beyond the scope of my vision.

Before I realized, the wolf collapsed mid-pounce—its head sliding from its shoulders, expression still frozen in mid-snarl. The body hit the dirt with a soft thud, and the head rolled to rest inches from mine, its dead eyes locked onto mine as if sharing in my awe.

She exhaled softly. Her breath didn’t tremble. Not even a flicker.

Then she turned her gaze toward the cave, the scattered corpses of the slaves being devoured by the wolves, her golden eyes narrowing.

“Tsk. They’re all already dead.”

Her voice was like a lullaby spoken through silk, smooth and light—but behind it was a sadness she didn’t show.

She flicked her wrist. The blood vanished from her blade, sucked into the glowing light. One by one, she approached the wolf corpses and casually flicked them into her bag—a dimensional bag, no doubt. Her movements were graceful, effortless, as though she had done this countless times before.

When she finally turned her gaze to me, I couldn’t breathe.

She walked forward, boots crunching softly on blood and dirt. She stopped in front of me, her shadow falling over my body. I couldn’t tell if I was shivering from pain or awe. I felt small under her gaze. Like prey again. But not because of fear—because she was something else. Something beyond me.

She knelt.

Her face, now close, was devastatingly beautiful. Not in a warm, familiar way—but in the way stars are beautiful: distant, untouchable, eternal.

Her lips parted.

“Boy, are you o—”

She froze mid-sentence. Her eyes widened—not in surprise, but recognition.

A long moment passed. Her expression softened—then bloomed into a radiant smile.

Not kindly.

Not cruelly.

But in wonder.

“It’s the first time in four hundred years,” she whispered, her voice light as falling petals, “that I’ve met someone like me.”

Her golden eyes shimmered beneath the rising moonlight—

Like a princess stepped out of a forgotten fairy tale in the dark.

“An Otherworlder.”

And just like that, she ceased to be a fleeting dream.

She became the first star in my endless night—guiding me through the dark with a light I never knew I needed.