Liberation of The Slaves

Chapter 94 – We Believe Where No One Does

— Daisy’s POV —

I walked through the quiet hallway, my steps soft against the polished floor. The silence felt unfamiliar—peaceful, yet heavy with the weight of time lost. No one else was around.

Until—

“M-Miss Daisy?”

A maid rounded the corner and froze when she saw me, her eyes wide with surprise.

She wasn’t a man. She wasn’t a threat.

<“Calm down, Daisy. Breathe.”>

I inhaled slowly, then exhaled just as steady. Forcing a small smile, I approached her.

“Um… could you tell me where the inner garden is? I’d like to see my sister. And Madam Sheila.”

“Y-Yes! Of course, Miss Daisy. Please, follow me.”

I walked behind her as she led me through the halls. Eventually, she stopped at a corridor where one side opened to the garden, the other bordered by a single wall.

“The garden is just through here,” she said, motioning toward the left. “They’re sitting in the center.”

“Thank you.”

She gave a polite bow and quietly departed, leaving me alone at the threshold.

What greeted me beyond that corridor stole the breath from my lungs.

The inner garden unfolded like a hidden sanctuary—sunlight cascading through an arched trellis draped in flowering vines, where bursts of color painted the earth in petals of every hue. Roses, peonies, lavender, and bellflowers swayed gently in the breeze. A cobblestone path wove its way through the green, leading to a circular terrace shaded by a canopy of white-blossomed trees.

At the center of it all, I saw them—Sis Celes and Madam Sheila—seated at a wrought-iron table adorned with a porcelain tea set. Their voices were low, their expressions calm, yet shaded with something serious.

I had meant to step forward. To call out.

But instead, I froze.

Something in their conversation held a gravity that made my feet still. Quietly, I stepped behind a flowering hedge, the soft rustle of leaves muffling my movement.

And there—I listened.

"By the way," Madam Sheila said, lifting her porcelain teacup with measured grace, "he'll be executed this evening. Would you like to come with me? To see him one last time?”

Sis Celes' hand paused mid-motion, her fingers tightening slightly around the delicate rim of her cup. "...I would like to witness his end with my own eyes, but…" she said, voice quiet but firm. "I’m sorry. I can’t leave Daisy alone right now."

Madam Sheila raised a brow. “Have you asked her whether she wants to go or not?”

Sis Celes shook her head, her golden eyes distant. “No. I don’t think I will. He… hurt her. Deeply. I won’t risk dragging her back into that nightmare. She deserves to forget.”

A silence settled between them for a moment, carried by the hum of cicadas and the distant chirping of birds.

“I see,” Sheila said at last. “You really do care about her.”

“Of course I do,” Sis Celes replied softly. “From the moment she was born, I’ve loved her. Protected her. She’s the only family I have left now.”

Hidden behind a thicket of lavender and blooming lilies, I clutched the fabric of my dress tightly. Her words wrapped around my chest like a warm breeze—and like a noose. My breath caught.

She was giving up so much… because of me.

Madam Sheila leaned back in her chair, regarding Sis Celes with something between respect and sadness. “Then… have you thought about what comes next?”

“I have. I’m planning to step away from adventuring.”

Sheila blinked. “Are you certain? I heard you reached B-Rank. That’s no small feat—especially at your age.”

A wistful smile touched Sis Celes' lips. “It is disheartening… I wanted to go further. To carry on our parents’ dream. But… Daisy comes first now. Adventuring is dangerous. I can’t risk my life when I’ve made her a promise—to never leave her again. She’s my priority. I think... I think our parents would understand.”

My hand pressed over my mouth.

She really meant it.

For me… she was willing to let go of her dreams.

“Such devotion,” Sheila murmured. “It’s admirable. But still a shame.”

Sis Celes bowed her head. “We also plan to leave this estate soon. Thank you for everything, Madam. Truly.”

“If you two plan to live alone, how about I give you a small house?” Sheila offered gently.

“Huh?” Sis Celes straightened, eyes widening. “Oh no—please don’t. You’ve already given us so much. I couldn’t impose further.”

“I insist,” Sheila replied with a quiet chuckle. “You know my children and husband are long gone. Helping you two… it heals my heart.”

“But—”

“Then let’s do this,” Sheila interrupted with a raised finger. “Just like your mother once did, come work for me. You can sew clothes for my shops. I’ll deduct a portion of your salary for the house. That way, you don’t owe me anything. You can work from home and still stay close to Daisy. She can work too if she wants.”

Sis Celes' lips parted, her breath catching in surprise. Her hands curled slowly into her lap. “That’s… truly generous. I’m grateful.”

“So? Will you accept it?”

Sis Celes’ voice trembled as if carrying the weight of years.

“I… I gratefully acc—”

Before she finished her words, a sharp masculine voice behind me made me jump.

“Miss Daisy?”

“KYAA—!!”

The voice—low, male, far too close—shattered the air like a whipcrack.

I spun around, panic lashing through me. My feet tangled beneath me, and I stumbled back, crashing onto the grass with a heavy thud. The world tilted. Leaves clung to my hair. My palms stung where they scraped the ground. But I barely felt it.

Because I saw him.

The butler.

White-haired. Impeccably dressed. A crisp black suit, gloves, a neatly trimmed mustache. Too neat. Too familiar.

For a single, soul-wrenching second—

He was him.

The butler from that place.

From that house.

From that nightmare I’d buried but never escaped.

My lungs seized. I couldn’t breathe. The sky above me blurred. I wasn’t in a garden anymore—I was back in that cold hallway, back in that endless silence. I could hear the sound of boots on marble. The creak of doors opening. The hush of my own terrified breath when I knew someone was coming.

My heart pounded so hard it hurt.

<“No. No, it’s not him. It’s not. This is different. You’re not there anymore.”>

But my body didn’t believe me.

It trembled without permission.

“Daisy!?”

Sis Celes' voice came swift with concern as she and Madam Sheila rushed over. I felt Sis Celes’ hands on my arms, trying to lift me.

The butler bowed his head deeply, his voice gentle and filled with remorse. “My sincerest apologies, Miss Daisy. I did not mean to startle you.”

I couldn’t lift my eyes. My fingers clung to the fabric of Sis Celes’ sleeve like it was the only thing anchoring me to the present. My body still trembled faintly—not from fear, but from the aftershock of memory. My breath was shallow, the echo of my scream still ringing faintly in my ears.

But I wasn’t that girl anymore.

I breathed in. The air was different here. Clean. Warmed by sunlight, not cloaked in shadows. I wasn’t behind locked doors.

And I wasn’t alone anymore.

Sis Celes began to speak, her tone gentle, protective—too protective. “It’s all right. We understa—”

I shook my head, cutting her off before she could shield me again.

“N-No! I-It’s okay, really!” The words tumbled out before fear could silence me.

I stepped forward, each movement stiff but deliberate. My heart pounded—but not with helplessness. This time, it was resolve.

I bowed low, voice tight, but steady. “I’m sorry… I overreacted. I-I didn’t mean to cause a scene. It was just… sudden.”

A beat of silence passed. Even the wind seemed to still. Then, slowly, I finally forced myself to glance up at him—not as a threat, not as a ghost from my past, but as a stranger with no power over me. The resemblance had shaken me, but that was all. His gaze held no shadow, no cruelty. Just concern. Just kindness.

He wasn’t the same.

And for the first time in months, I didn’t look away.

“Daisy?” Sis Celes was taken aback by my unexpected action.

She knew what this meant.

It wasn’t a triumph. Not a victory. But it was a step.

“Is there something you need to tell us?” Madam Sheila broke the silence.

“Yes. The preparations at the arena are complete. The lord has arrived.”

“I see. Thank you. You may return now.”

The butler gave another courteous bow and stepped away, disappearing into the corridor.

Once the butler had vanished beyond the hedges, silence returned to the garden, warm and trembling with sunlight. Sis Celes helped me to sit below the canopy.

I turned toward Sis Celes, who was already looking at me—her gaze falling to my freshly cut hair.

“Daisy… Your hair…” she murmured, her voice tight with concern. “Did something happen?”

“I’m okay, Sis.” I tried to smile, but it faltered. My fingers brushed the back of my neck, where the strands no longer reached. “But more importantly… please, don’t stop being an adventurer.”

She blinked, caught off guard.

“No—more than that!” I stepped closer, hands clenched at my sides. “I want to become an adventurer too. I want to start again.”

Her expression hardened slightly, brows drawing together. “Did you… eavesdrop on us?”

“Ah—s-sorry…” I winced, shrinking a little under her gaze.

She let out a long, familiar sigh.

“You didn’t need to listen in, silly.” Her tone softened, but the worry lingered. “There’s no need to force yourself. The guild’s full of male adventurers. It’s okay if we don’t return to that life. We can work at Madam Sheila’s shop. It’s safer.”

I shook my head, fists trembling. “No… I am still scared of men. Terrified, even. But I don't want to stay this weak forever.”

I stepped forward again, lowering my head in a deep bow. “Please, Sis. Train me. Help me become strong enough to defend myself. And until I get there… I need you to protect me.”

I stayed there, bent at the waist, until I felt her hand rest gently on my shoulder.

“There’s no need to ask that,” she said with a weary chuckle. “Even if you become the strongest adventurer in the world, I’ll still protect you.”

I looked up, eyes wide.

“But… why do you want to be an adventurer again? Is it really just for our dream?” she asked. “I’m sure Mom and Dad would understand if we chose a different path. You don’t have to do this just to chase what they wanted.”

“That’s part of it,” I admitted, raising my eyes to hers. “But there’s something else.”

Her brow furrowed slightly. “What is it?”

I took a breath and steadied myself. “Sis… did you see Freed die with your own eyes? Did you see him get killed by the monsters? Or at least… did you see his body?”

The question hit her like a gust of cold wind. She blinked, stunned. “W-What? Why are you asking that now…?”

“Just answer me,” I said, more firmly than I expected.

She hesitated, then looked away, her voice faltering. “I… I don’t know. When I arrived, the wolves had already torn through the camp. The slaves were… gone… devoured. There were children’s bodies, but their faces were unrecognizable. Some had blue hair like Freed. One of them… must have been him.”

I swallowed hard. My heart pounded with something stronger than fear now—hope.

“No,” I whispered. “That means he’s still alive.”

“W-What?” She grabbed my shoulders, eyes wide. “What do you mean!?”

“The day Ronan admitted he sent monsters to kill Freed… I felt it. I felt that he survived. And even now, I still feel it.”

She stared into my eyes. “Are you sure, Daisy?”

“Why would I lie about something like this!?”

“W-Wait, wait…” Madam Sheila interjected, confusion plain on her face. “You feel that he’s alive? That’s your evidence?”

I nodded slowly. “I know it sounds irrational. But… there’s more. On that same day, Ronan’s butler reported that they lost contact with their informant. The one assigned to monitor Freed.”

Madam Sheila tilted her head, puzzled. “So? What’s the connection?”

“Don’t you think it’s strange?” I pressed. “If that informant was the one who released the monsters, wouldn’t it be weird for him to die from the very monsters he let loose? Maybe… someone else killed the informant. Maybe someone saved Freed.”

Celes’ eyes sharpened. “So you're saying… someone else was there? Someone who intercepted and rescued him?”

“Yes. Or at least, interfered somehow. I don’t know who they are, or what happened after,” my voice lowered, barely audible. “But Freed hasn’t come back, so… maybe he was taken. Maybe he was sold again. I don’t know.”

“I see…” she murmured, the pieces falling slowly into place.

“W-Wait. I still don’t understand.” Madam Sheila still looked doubtful. “Let’s say there was someone who killed that informant. But you don’t know if they saved him. You’re just guessing.”

If we think it by logic, then what Madam Sheila said made sense. Sis Celes had seen strands of hair similar to Freed’s on the child's body. So, it can be said that Freed has died.

But—I always prioritize my feelings over logic if it’s related to Freed.

“That’s true,” I admitted. “But I believe it. In my heart, I feel it. Freed’s alive.”

Sheila opened her mouth to protest again—but Sis Celes turned to her and spoke firmly, gaze unwavering.

“Madam,” Sis Celes said firmly, turning to face her with steady eyes, “I believe in Daisy’s feelings. This isn’t about some informant, or speculation, or logic. It’s about her. If she says Freed is alive, then somewhere out there… he is.”

“Huh…?” Madam Sheila blinked, visibly thrown. “Are you really sure, Celes?”

It made sense that she was surprised. Sis Celes had always been the rational one—the one who relied on evidence and plans. And yet now, she stood there without hesitation, defending nothing but a feeling.

“Yes,” she said without blinking. “Because Daisy has never been wrong about Freed. Not once. Even as a child, she always knew when something happened to him—she could feel it in her chest, like their hearts were tied by an invisible thread. When the bandits attacked our village, she sensed he was in danger long before we even heard the news.”

She paused, then added with quiet conviction, “You could show me evidence. I could see it with my own eyes. But no—even then, if Daisy’s heart said otherwise, I would still believe her. I trust her more than what the world tries to show me. I don’t need proof. I don’t need certainty. I trust her. Completely. And this time, just like before… I trust her heart.”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

My lips parted, but no words came. The sunlight filtering through the garden canopy blurred at the edges of my vision. My chest ached—not from fear or pain, but from something far deeper. How could she still believe in me so completely, even when I doubted myself? Even when I was uncertain, afraid, and grasping at vague feelings?

She would believe me more than her own eyes.

I clutched the hem of my dress, the fabric trembling beneath my fingers. I have to be worthy of that faith, I thought. No… I will be. No matter what it takes, I’ll live up to the trust she’s placed in me.

“I believe Freed is still alive too, Aunt,” a girl’s soft but steady voice suddenly chimed in.

“He’s not the kind of person who’d die that easily,” added a deeper voice—firm, confident. “He always finds a way out, even when the odds are against him.”

Startled, all of us turned toward the sound.

Two figures stood by the archway that framed the edge of the garden. A girl with vivid red hair and bright ruby eyes stood with her arms crossed, while a tall, lean boy stood beside her, posture relaxed but gaze sharp.

I blinked.

<“Rei…? And Ray…?”>

My breath caught when I looked at Ray—Freed’s childhood friends from his training days.

But… even before I recognized his face, my body remembered the shape, the tone of his voice, the gaze of men. My fingers twitched, trembling before I could stop them. My instinct screamed to recoil, to step back—

Then a warm hand closed gently over mine.

Sis Celes.

She didn’t say a word, but the strength of her grip grounded me and steadied my heart.

Madam Sheila, eyes slightly narrowed, tilted her head. “Rei? Ray? What are you two doing here?”

“We came to inform you that we’re ready to head to the arena,” Ray said calmly.

“But more than that,” Rei added, stepping forward with her eyes locked on her aunt’s, “please help them search for Freed. Even if you’re unsure about their claims… don’t you believe in me? I do believe he’s alive—somewhere out there.”

Madam Sheila folded her arms, exhaling a long sigh. “Haaah… You two never change. Always chasing hope like it’s solid stone. Alright, fine. If all of you believe he’s alive, I won’t deny that possibility.”

She glanced toward me, then Sis Celes. “I’ll see what I can uncover, though I can’t pursue it with the same intensity as before. You understand—nobles act on proof, not just sentiment.”

“There’s no proof he’s dead either, Madam,” Sis Celes replied softly and bowed. “And… Thank you. Your help is more than enough. Daisy and I will continue searching on our own if needed.”

“Th-Thank you,” I said, bowing deeply to Madam Sheila.

Then, I looked between the two red-haired siblings again, a thousand questions swirling in my mind. And then it hit me—the way Madam Sheila had addressed them, the familiarity in their tone, their presence here.

“You two are… her niece and nephew?” I whispered, barely managing the words.

Ray smiled bitterly, as if reading my thoughts.

“Yeah… We’re Earl Xavier’s children,” Ray added quietly. “The ones targeted during the stampede… that was us.”

Sis Celes had told me that they vanished after that day… But we never imagined they carried noble blood. My legs nearly gave out again—not from fear, but from the weight of everything converging at once.

But even then… they stood beside me. Beside us. Believing in Freed, just like I did.

Still holding Sis Celes’ hand, I looked at Madam Sheila, then at Rei and Ray, my voice soft but steady.

“Thank you… all of you,” I said. “For believing in me… and for believing in Freed.”

The words weren’t grand, but they came from the deepest part of me. And for the first time in what felt like ages, my heart felt light enough to float.

But more than anything—more than the promise of help, more than the flicker of hope—I was happiest because Sis Celes believed me. Not out of pity, not out of duty… but because she truly trusted me, more than even her own eyes.

She believed in me when I couldn't even believe in myself. Not because of logic, not because of proof—but because her heart chose mine.

The unwavering, unconditional trust.

That trust wrapped around my heart like a warm blanket, shielding me from the chill of doubt.

Even in the dark, her belief in me would be my lantern.

Even if the world turned its back, her hand would never let go.

And as long as she walks beside me—

I will never fear the shadows again.