Chapter 15: 15. The hero of liberation

Cries of a child filled the alleyways of the slums, born into no future but slavery.

Crill opened his eyes to a dark world. His mother was a prostitute, so he never knew his father. From a young age, his mother sold him to a nobleman who was fascinated with fighting.

Crill would fight for his master in tournaments from the moment he hit puberty. His body never knew a day without bruises. Hardened by abuse, Crill lived a sorry life.

When he lost, he wouldn’t get food for the day. When he complained, he was tortured by magic until he passed out. His body was filled with scars, and every scar held a sour-tasting memory.

Until one day, someone saved him. Not physically—he was used to abuse—but mentally.

The memory lingered: sitting in a dark alleyway, beaten and broken, staring at a stranger no older than him. He remembered his words—how this world was unjust, and how he would save him.

That day, Yaku gave Crill his life back. More importantly, he gave him his resolve back.

Crill became a beacon of hope in the outer circle in just two weeks, promising salvation. Many men joined him. The Liberation Party was formed, to take back their rights and free the slaves from the inner circle.

In just two weeks, they gathered one hundred men. They obtained swords, shields, and everything they could use.

Crill stood on a platform at their hideout, while many of the men who would soon join him sat in silence, waiting for him to speak.

**“Dear liberators, today we gather in our humble hideout, surrounded by rats, while our brothers and sisters are dying of hunger every day. Children can barely eat a loaf of bread every few days if they’re lucky.

While the pieces of shit in the inner circle enjoy life to the fullest, provided by our hard work. WE built this city. The hands of slaves bled for this city.

And what did we get? They enslaved us just because we had no mana.

They took our women on their whims, used our children as stepping tools. These animals… no, these monsters need to die.

We will take this city and achieve equality on a bed of dead nobles. And if we can’t do it, then our children will.

Make no mistake—the Liberation Movement will spark the end of their rule, whether we are alive to see it or not!”**

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Crill spoke with conviction. His voice trembled with both fear and bravery.

The men all stood up, making noise for him. They supported his goal. Their lives didn’t matter anymore; they had already given them to this movement, and there was no turning back.

A day later, they stormed the inner circle gate, killing the two gate guards immediately. They rushed inside, attacking every noble they could see, freeing every slave in sight.

But their numbers weren’t enough.

Guards were dispatched, and magic rained down from nobles. Total chaos. Many men dropped like flies, giving their lives to the movement.

Emilia heard what was happening and rushed to the battlefield near the inner circle gate fountain. She healed everyone she could from the Liberation Party, saving dozens of men before finally fainting—only to be saved by Yaku.

The battle ended when news spread that Doth was coming.

Silence loomed over the blood-soaked battlefield.

Doth stood among the bodies—guards, nobles, and slaves alike.

“How many dead?” Doth asked his advisor.

“Five nobles, eight guards, and twenty-five of the attackers, sir,” he answered.

Doth smirked.

“Hold a meeting with all the high-ranking nobles. Also, clean up this mess. The blood will soon stain this beautiful place.”

He turned and walked toward the emergency meeting.

The Liberation Party scattered throughout the outer layer of Bagio City, making it harder to track them. They had saved five slaves but lost twenty-five good men.

Crill and Yaku returned to a safe house to recover. Yaku was at his physical limit. His fight with Sunder had destroyed him, and the clash with guards had drained everything out of him.

Crill helped him walk, holding him from under his armpit. It was like déjà vu—Yaku had once saved him, and now he was the one helping Yaku.

They entered one of the safe houses the Liberation Party had prepared.

Inside, children hid in the corners, frightened of Yaku, a stranger to them. Crill patted their heads, reassuring them.

“He’s a friend.”

“I need a bed and a room for him. He’s about to pass out,” Crill asked one of the women.

He laid Yaku down to rest.

Behind him, the woman asked, “What happened? How many did we lose?”

“I don’t know how many we lost,” Crill replied, sitting heavily on a wooden chair while a child hugged his leg. “But we sent a clear message to those monsters.”

He rested his hand on the child’s head.

“Don’t be afraid. One day, you’ll be strong enough to defend your mother as well.”

Meanwhile, an urgent meeting was held between all the high-ranking noblemen and Doth.

“Dear Bagio City leaders,” Doth began, “what happened today must never be repeated. They killed five of our own and even managed to kill eight guards. Therefore, I suggest a full long-distance attack on the outer circle.

Let us destroy their homes with our magic. After they are weakened, we will occupy the outer circle for good.”

The nobles immediately agreed and began preparing the full firepower of their houses.

“What about the civilian casualties?” one noble asked.

“There are no civilian casualties,” Doth snarled. “Everyone there is guilty. They teach their children to hate us anyway.

We must hit them hard so they never dare try this again. We will rain fireballs on them. We will close the outer gates so they can never escape. No food or water will enter the outer layer until we are done!”

His scream made everyone nervous.

The meeting ended.

Doth stood on his balcony, looking over the city—already imagining the destruction to come.