Extra's Perfect Ending

Chapter 120: Slave

Slavery had been abhorred by the general populace for quite some time, but it hadn’t been completely eradicated. Many noble houses still secretly kept slaves in various places.

The church had been working to uproot the practice, but it took time for policies to take full effect. A sudden purge, where they burned everyone who owned slaves, would disrupt countless lives in unexpected ways. So, the church opted for a gradual approach, slowly making slavery less popular as the concept of free will gained traction.

In Tumidus, the port city, authorities monitored slave trading closely and heavily taxed any noble who attempted to buy or sell slaves. Eventually, slave prices became so exorbitant that raising servants from within their own households became a better option than purchasing one.

As a result, most slave transactions now occurred in secret, where deals could be made at a more reasonable price. This secrecy, however, gave the church a reason to lawfully torch anyone involved in such practices to death if they were caught.

Ulla was now high on the church’s list of people to burn. However, they had yet to act on this. If Holen managed to find records of Ulla’s dealings, Theia and Hilda doubted that the church didn’t already have this information.

This raised more questions about the church itself. Theia had doubted the church before, but now she felt even more strongly that they weren’t doing their job properly. Her hand clenched into a fist. She desperately wanted to help these people.

"Hilda, can we help them?" Theia asked, unsure of what to do.

Hilda didn’t answer at first, torn between the choices.

"We could help them," Hilda finally replied, making her decision. She didn’t want to witness such suffering ever again. Theia’s face lit up. She never had the courage to do something like this on her own, but with Hilda by her side, it was a different story. The maid was highly competent at her job and skilled at dealing with problems.

After she gave her word, Hilda didn’t miss a beat. She pulled out her knife and pried open the rusted, blood-stained lock. It hadn’t been replaced in a while; the reason no one bothered to break it was that the prisoners were too weak.

The lock snapped, and the metal hit the floor with a loud clang, echoing down the hallway—a strange sound for the slaves, who hadn’t heard such a noise in a long time. The skinny man inside the cell stared at Hilda in surprise; she wasn’t the usual guard who came to extract their blood, nor was she their cruel master.

"Who are you? Are you here to take my blood? Just… make it quick," he whispered, his voice weak but filled with fear.

Hilda sighed and slashed at the chains binding him. "No, we are here to help."

"Help?" The man looked at Hilda as if she were mad, his mouth curving into a bitter smile. "Are you kidding me? What could you even do? Is this some sick prank by the lord?"

"No, we didn’t come here to jest. We came to help," Hilda said firmly.

"Lady... I appreciate the thought, but what can we really do? If we try to escape, the guards will just suppress us. Look at us, we’re in no condition to fight or even run," the man replied, despair weighing heavily in his voice. Life in a dark cell and constant bloodletting had taken its toll on his mind.

"If you can’t do it, who will?" Hilda said, her eyes locked onto the skinny man’s. "If you can’t pull yourself together and get out of here, then who can?"

The man was taken aback, not knowing how to respond to Hilda’s words.

"Lady… I really can’t..." he muttered.

"Answer me this—do you want to get out of here or not?" Hilda pressed.

The man hesitated, then his eyes began to clear, a flicker of determination reigniting in them. "I... I want to get out of here."

"That’s enough. Help me get these people out," Hilda commanded, leaving the man to his own devices.

With newfound resolve, he picked himself up and began to help unlock the other fragile locks. One by one, the cells opened, and more people emerged.

In the dimly lit hallway, a group of malnourished slaves gathered, unsure of what they were doing. Some lamented how they might be punished for this, but they rallied behind the skinny man whom Hilda had freed.

"Lady, how are we... gonna get out? Are the coppers involved in this?" one of the prisoners asked, his voice filled with uncertainty. They didn’t know if they could trust Hilda, who seemed to be leading this little uprising.

"No," Hilda replied, her answer causing a ripple of panic through the group. But Hilda’s voice cut through the fear and uncertainty like a blade.

"Listen up!" she called her voice firm and commanding. The prisoners, still reeling from the sudden possibility of freedom, turned their eyes to her. "I know you’re scared. I know you’ve been beaten down, broken, and bled. But I’m telling you now, you have a choice."

She stepped forward, raising the oil lamp higher so that it illuminated her face, casting a stark light that seemed to cut through the shadows around them.

"You can stay here, in this dark place, waiting for the next time they come to take from you. Or," she paused, her gaze sweeping over the ragged crowd, "you can fight. You can take a stand right now, for your own lives, for your own freedom."

A murmur went through the group. Some looked hopeful, others skeptical. One of the prisoners—a woman with sunken eyes and bruises lining her face—spoke up, her voice barely more than a whisper. "But… how? We have no strength. No weapons…"

Hilda turned to her, her expression fierce. "Your strength is still in you. I see it in your eyes. They’ve tried to take everything from you, but they haven’t taken your will to survive. I won’t lie to you if you come with me today, You’ll likely die but you’ll also die in here either way so why not try? Take this chance of freedom"