Liberation of The Slaves Chapter 61 – Rekindled Fire Beyond Despair

— Celestia’s POV —

The room was suffocating.

Not because of its size, nor the dim lighting, nor even the silence that had taken root within it for the past week. It was the weight—the unbearable, suffocating weight pressing down on my chest.

It had been there ever since Aster Village was reduced to ash.

Ever since I was left alone.

I sat on the bed, unmoving, barely breathing. The world outside continued as if nothing had happened. The sun rose, the birds sang, people laughed, and the town bustled with life. But none of it reached . None of it mattered.

Nothing mattered.

I heard voices—Sasa and Shuri talking—but their words passed through like whispers in a storm.

Then, suddenly—

*SLAP!*

The impact jolted , but the sting barely registered. My cheek burned, but the pain felt distant—like it belonged to soone else. My head barely moved from the force, but the sound rang in my ears.

“S-Shuri!?” Sasa gasped, eyes wide in shock.

I didn’t move. I didn’t blink. I just sat there, staring at the floor, unmoved by what had just happened.

Shuri’s breath was ragged. I could hear her fingers trembling as she clenched her fists. I had never seen her like this before—never heard her voice shake with so much emotion.

Shuri let out a sharp breath, raking a hand through her hair. Her fingers shook as they clenched into fists at her sides.

“Do you think you’re the only one who cares!?” her voice cracked, louder now.

“Do you think we just sit around, twiddling our thumbs, waiting for you to wake up!? Do you know how much I hate seeing you like this!?”

She inhaled sharply, her shoulders trembling.

“I feel so fucking useless, Celestia! Watching you sit there like you’re already dead! I hate it! I hate this! I—”

Her voice wavered. Just for a second. Just enough for to feel fear beneath her anger.

And then, before I could process it, she grabbed by the front of my clothes and yanked forward.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?” she shouted, her voice cracking under the weight of her anger.

Her face was close to mine now, her brown eyes burning with frustration, with rage—no, not just rage. Sothing deeper. Sothing desperate.

“Why are you like this!?” she yelled, her hands gripping my collar so tightly that the fabric of my shirt dug into my skin. “Do you think you’re the only one suffering!? Do you think you’re the only one who lost sothing!?”

I barely reacted. I didn’t push her away. I didn’t fight back.

And that seed to make her even angrier.

“You just sit here like a lifeless doll! Not eating, not sleeping, not talking to anyone! Do you even realize how painful it is to watch you like this!?”

Her grip tightened.

“Every single day, I co in here hoping—desperately hoping—that you’ll say sothing, do sothing! That maybe, just maybe, the Celestia I know is still in there! But all you do is stare at the floor, as if the world is already over!”

Her voice was raw, filled with sothing almost like heartbreak.

I continued to say nothing.

Because what could I say?

What could I possibly say to make any of this better?

Shuri trembled. She shook with frustration, with helplessness.

Then, suddenly, she let go of my shirt and slamd her fists against my shoulders.

“Say sothing, damn it!”

*SMACK!*

Her fists struck again. And again. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to shake . Enough to make feel her emotions.

“Curse out! Tell to leave! Shout! Cry! Do sothing!” she scread.

I just sat there.

She let out a sharp breath, then laughed—a short, bitter laugh.

“…Damn it, Celestia,” she muttered. “Do you even care? About anything? About the people who are still here? About the ones who still need you?”

She wasn’t just angry because I was wallowing in grief.

She was angry because I was abandoning everyone who was still here.

“I don’t get it,” she continued, voice trembling. “The Celestia I know—the genius Celestia—she wouldn’t just give up like this. She wouldn’t throw everything away. So why? Why!?”

She wasn’t just shouting at anymore. She was pleading.

“Did you never think about what Freed and Daisy would say if they saw you like this? If they knew you had just given up on them!?”

My breath caught.

Her words slamd into , sharp and unrelenting. But they barely registered.

Because all I could think about was Freed and Daisy.

My hands clenched against my lap, fingers curling so tightly that my nails dug into my skin. A faint tremble ran through my arms, barely noticeable.

But inside, sothing cracked.

Sothing broke apart under the weight of her words.

They’re out there, sowhere.

Suffering. Crying. Alone.

And I… I was just sitting here?

No. No, no, no, no—

A breath hitched in my throat.

The dam inside burst.

“They’re out there, sowhere, probably suffering, probably in pain—and you, their big sister, are just sitting here waiting to die!? Do you think that’s what they’d want!?”

I flinched.

It was a small movent, barely noticeable. But Shuri caught it.

She gritted her teeth.

And then, with a shaky breath, she pulled away slightly, still glaring at .

“I did so digging about your family,” she said, her voice lower now but no less intense.

“The lord and his sister were saved by your parents years ago. That ans he owes them. A huge debt.”

She exhaled sharply.

“So use that debt! Change your reward! Ask him to help find Freed and Daisy! He’s a noble—he has resources, connections. Even if he can’t save them himself, he can get information!”

For the first ti in a while, I turned my head, staring at her.

Sothing inside cracked.

A slow, trembling breath escaped .

“…Freed… Daisy…” My voice, hoarse from disuse, barely made a sound.

Shuri’s eyes widened slightly.

“…He can find them?” I whispered, my voice breaking. “He can… help save them?”

I grabbed her shoulders with my weak hands, my fingers pressing in hard enough to bruise. My hands were shaking her.

My voice, the one I hadn’t used in a week, tore from my throat.

“Can I save them?” My voice trembled. My throat burned. “Can I really save them!? Can I really—!?”

“Ugh—s-stop! You’re shaking too much!”

“C-Celes, stop! She can’t talk like that!” Sasa stretched out her hands, prompting to stop.

I froze. My grip loosened before releasing from her shoulders. “…Sorry.”

“Haa.. Haa.. You.. Really.. Sigh..” Shuri took a deep breath, rubbing her sore shoulders.

When she t my gaze again, her expression was firm despite the emotion in her eyes.

“I won’t lie to you,” she said quietly. “You might be able to save them. But you might not. We don’t know if they’re even alive.”

Her words cut deep, but I didn’t look away.

“Even if you can save them, it won’t be quick. It could take months. Years. Maybe even decades. Are you ready for that?”

I clenched my fists. The answer was already carved into my heart.

“I will find them,” I said, voice firm. “Even if it takes my entire life. Even if it costs my life, I—”

*Whack!*

A light smack landed on my head.

“Idiot.”

Shuri sighed, arms crossed.

“What’s the point of saving them if you die? You know their situation is bad, right? Especially Daisy.”

Daisy…

I knew her situation. I could guess it.

I could imagine her terror, her helpless cries in the hands of lustful n.

I just refused to believe.

But I couldn’t deny that it was the most likely situation she was in right now.

“If you die while trying to save them, how do you think they’ll feel when they learn about it? Do you want them to bla themselves? To suffer like you have this past week?”

I swallowed hard. “…No.”

“Then stop talking about throwing your life away.”

My throat tightened.

“…I understand.”

Shuri sighed and shook her head.

“Damn right, you do.”

For the first ti in a long ti, I felt sothing other than numbness.

I looked at Sasa and Shuri—at their exhausted, relieved expressions.

I pushed myself to bow slightly.

“…Thank you, Shuri.”

Her face turned red. “W-What the hell are you thanking for!?”

I paused for a mont.

Shuri was the type of person who couldn’t leave others alone. She always tried to help, always tried to fix things—even if she got frustrated, even if she yelled, she cared. But at the sa ti, she was terrible at accepting gratitude. She’d get all flustered, act like it wasn’t a big deal, and brush it off like she didn’t just pour her heart out.

Despite everything, she was still the sa.

Still awkward.

Still hopelessly bad at taking gratitude.

Still Shuri.

Sothing warm stirred inside —faint, fragile, but real.

Before I knew it…

“Fufufu…” A small chuckle escaped before I could stop it.

Shuri gawked. Sasa gasped.

“Did you… just laugh?” Sasa whispered, eyes wide.

I blinked.

Had I?

I had.

And, sohow, it felt like the first ti I had breathed in a long, long ti.

Shuri scowled. “Y-You’re creeping out! Don’t laugh like that all of a sudden!”

That only made laugh more.

And this ti, they joined in.

For the first ti since that terrible day, the heavy silence was gone.

And in its place, a new goal of my life was set.