Chapter 47

In the midst of cherry blossoms dancing in the wind, Misaki opened the old diary and read the words of promise written there.

---

Xiaoming stood at the classroom door, took a deep breath, and firmly gripped the secret letter from his mother.

---

Zoan and the former slaves, who were the parties involved in the battle, were naturally surprised, but even among those who had been slaves, those who could see a glimmer of hope found the rejection by Sōma to be incomprehensible.

The punitive force that would be sent by Hormea would surely have enough military power to massacre both Zoan and the former slaves. In response to this, it was impossible for Zoan to fight alone by rejecting the participation of the former slaves.

Anxiety, doubt, suspicion, and confusion.

These emotions swirled, and murmurs spread throughout the square. Everyone wanted to hear the true reason for the rejection of participation, but Sōma merely gazed at the restless crowd and remained silent.

Realizing that Sōma was waiting for everyone to listen to him, the people fell silent, and they began to wait for Sōma to speak.

Feeling that everyone was waiting for his words, Sōma began to speak in a calm tone.

"Everyone, you are mistaken. Do you think this is a trivial slave rebellion? Do you think it's a meaningless act of revenge that will be quickly suppressed by the Hormean army?"

For those who had been reduced to slaves and suffered greatly, revenge against humans was a just act, a ritual of rebirth to reclaim their pride and return to being human.

However, Sōma dismissed it as trivial and meaningless.

Feeling that their feelings were belittled, the former slaves were angered.

Just as their anger was about to erupt, Sōma spoke in a strong tone.

"But, that's not true! Our battle is not a petty rebellion or revenge!"

Those who were about to direct their anger were confused.

They thought they were being belittled, but Sōma said otherwise. Moreover, he said it was not small.

Everyone was puzzled by Sōma's words, and confusion spread.

Seizing on this confusion, Sōma sharply spoke.

"Everyone, look at the person next to you!"

Drawn by Sōma's words, everyone looked around.

"The person there might be a Zoan, a Dwarf, or a Dinosaurian.

But no matter what race they are, they are wounded. They are wounded by unjust violence.

And that includes you.

You have been treated with contempt, your freedom of mind and body taken away, and you are wounded and weak, simply because you are a different race.

If you close your eyes, you can see the cruel masters who treated you like livestock and whipped you. If you listen closely, you can hear the curses of the slave overseers who tried to crush your spirit."

At these words, some touched the scars left by whips on their backs, some rubbed the wounds on their wrists from long-term handcuffs, some covered their ears to block out the curses that still echoed in their ears, and some hid the burn marks branded on their bodies in shame.

But Sōma reprimanded them.

"But now, you are not wounded and weak! Now, you have become strong, reclaiming your freedom and dignity with your own hands!"

For those whose painful pasts were exposed and who felt a dark shadow in their hearts, these words felt like a ray of light. Even if it was a light intentionally created in the shadow, they could not help but cling to it.

In response to Sōma's words, the former slaves nodded vigorously in various places.

However, Sōma was not satisfied with this level of reaction and called out again.

"Are you weak? Or are you strong? What do you think?!"

In response, a few shouted, "We are strong!" Then, more and more people joined in, raising their voices. It spread like ripples on water, reaching everyone present.

Those who had been about to bow their heads, remembering their painful past as slaves, gradually stood up straight, their cheeks flushed, and their voices loud.

After watching this scene for a while, Sōma raised his hand slightly when the time seemed right.

Just that.

Just that, and the noisy crowd fell silent.

No one had been ordered to do so, nor had they been told to do so. Yet, they were captivated by the small human child standing before them, and they waited for his words.

"Then, I ask you, the strong ones, what is our enemy?!"

Until just a moment ago, everyone had unquestioningly thought that the enemy was humans.

However, the words Sōma had spoken so far made them sense that the answer was not so simple. Therefore, no one could find the words to answer Sōma's question and looked at each other.

Confirming that no one was answering, Sōma shouted with a large gesture.

"Is the enemy the slave traders who whipped you? No! They are just small fry! Then, is it the Holy Doctrine that labeled you as inferior races? No! They are just fools who believe in the nonsense of a strange person! Is it the human race itself? No!"

This was a denial of existing beliefs.

Sōma listed and denied one by one the enemies that the former slaves, present in the square, would naturally think of.

This is wrong! Your thinking is wrong!

Those who were denied were confused. Confusion led to anxiety, and anxiety to fear. To escape this fear, people sought something to cling to.

"Why? If humans disappear, will there be no more slaves? No! If humans disappear, the next powerful race will enslave others. If they disappear, the next race will do the same. Even if all other races are destroyed, within that race, there will be those who enslave and those who oppress.

At this moment, the comrades who stand next to you, sharing the joy of being freed from slavery, will become tomorrow's slaves and their cruel masters.

Can such a thing be allowed? No, it cannot be allowed! It is wrong! Wrong must be corrected!"

And to the hearts of those who were confused and seeking something to cling to, Sōma delivered a powerful answer.

"Our enemy is this world! The very system of this wrong world!"

It was an enormous statement.

An overwhelmingly enormous statement.

Under normal circumstances, it would be dismissed as a grandiose and ridiculous idea.

However, precisely because of this, the words were deeply etched in people's hearts.

"Does the sun change its light for different races? Does the rain fall differently for different races? Does the night visit only certain races? Does the earth treat different races differently?!

There is no such thing!

Originally, the world was equal for all. It was distorted by the greed of a few powerful people!

But the truth is different!

Your souls, your wills, are free! And no matter what race you are, there is no superiority or inferiority, no nobility or commonality in bloodlines or families! You are all equal!"

Freedom and equality.

These unfamiliar words sounded incredibly appealing.

"To defend the dignity, freedom, and equality we have won! For the comrades standing next to you! For the loved ones who will stand next to you! For the children who will follow you! For all of these reasons—"

In contrast to his previous passion, Sōma now spoke with a gentle smile.

"Let's create a country."

These words seeped into the hearts of all who heard them like water on dry sand.

Then, with a bit more enthusiasm, he repeated,

"Let's create our country. Our country of freedom and equality! With our own hands!

This is not just a rebellion! It is not revenge! Those who want to fight for such things are not needed! This is a battle to create our country!"

However, Sōma's expression suddenly turned sad, and he closed his eyes and turned away.

"But it is a path filled with hardships. Those who have benefited from the distorted world will surely try to eliminate us to protect their selfish desires.

They are powerful enemies. Many will be wounded and lose their lives in the battle against them."

Turning back to face everyone, Sōma raised his tightly clenched fist to the sky.

"But at the end of this sacrifice, there will surely be our country! Our country!"

The harsh reality and the ideal at the end of it. The greater the gap, the more people's hearts were stirred.

Sōma took the wooden shackles and a small bag from Shemul, who was standing beside him, and first raised the wooden shackles high.

"If you fear death and want to live by giving up your dignity and freedom, put these shackles around your neck and return to the filthy slave huts! Live like livestock, whipped and cursed!"

The wooden shackles Sōma threw fell to the ground with a clatter.

Then, he raised the small bag high.

"If you fear battle and want to flee, take this silver and run from the city! Live in constant fear of being hunted down by humans until you die!"

The small bag Sōma threw fell to the ground, and silver coins scattered with a clatter.

"Choose!"

Overwhelmed by the content of his words, the square fell silent.

Everyone was confused.

They could not understand the content, which was so far removed from their common sense.

Everyone was hesitant.

Even though they could not understand, they felt a burning passion that they could not explain.

In the tense atmosphere of the square, a Dwarf stood up.

It was Dovarin.

He pushed through the crowd and approached Sōma.

Everyone watched to see what Dovarin would do.

Sōma, who had poured all his courage into this moment and was holding his breath, also waited for Dovarin's words.

He might be scolded. He might be laughed at. He might not even be acknowledged.

Shaking with anxiety, Sōma waited for the Dwarf's judgment like a sinner awaiting final judgment before God.

Then, Dovarin took a small breath and shouted loudly.

"I don't need wood or silver!"

He extended his strong right arm, palm up, toward Sōma.

"Give me iron!"

The wood referred to the shackles, and the silver to the silver coins.

And the iron referred to weapons made of iron.

Dovarin was not asking for the shackles of slavery or the silver for escape, but for the iron weapons to fight.

Realizing this, the Dwarves and Dinosaurians stood up in unison.

"Right! Give me iron!"

"Give us iron!"

"Iron! Give us iron!!"

Everyone shouted, raising their clenched fists to the sky.

Unable to contain the passion welling up from within, they stomped their feet and shouted hoarsely.

The heat of their enthusiasm affected the Zoans, who also stood up, raised their fists to the sky, and shouted.

"Iron! Iron!!"

Bathed in the fervent cries, Sōma noticed that Shemul, who had been standing next to him, was no longer visible.

No, Shemul was still there.

Sōma thought she was invisible because Shemul, who had been standing protectively in front of him, had knelt down. She bowed deeply to Sōma, her cheeks wet with tears.

"Sōma, my 'Lord Below the Navel.' I am proud to have offered my soul, heart, and flesh to you. You are my 'Lord Below the Navel'! You are everything to me!"

Shemul felt as if her head would explode.

Her blood felt like it was boiling, and every pore in her body seemed to be releasing joy.

She feared that if she looked at Sōma's face in this state, the repressed feelings inside her would be unleashed, so she kept her head bowed and repeated the name of her revered "Lord Below the Navel."

Therefore, she did not notice.

The face of Sōma, who was looking down at her, was distorted as if he was about to cry.

---

Bonus

Sōma

"Hmm. What should I say to everyone tomorrow?

'The Hormean army is a mere shell. I will say it bluntly, they are scum!!' This is probably not good.

Then, 'Gentlemen, I love the liberation of slaves. Gentlemen, I love the liberation of slaves. Gentlemen, I love the liberation of slaves!' This is also a bit too much...

Also, the speech of the M●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●