Women's liberation

In an underground prison beneath a goblin village, the iron bars had been sliced through by a sharp sword that left a gleaming mark along the edges of the metal. The air was thick with a foul stench mixed with the smell of blood, human waste, sweat, and vomit.

Kyle stood in the center, breathing slowly in the darkness, facing a group of women who had been kidnapped by the goblins—at least, that's what Kyle strongly doubted.

"Honestly, this is impossible. There's no way these women were kidnapped by these goblins."

The reason for Kyle's disbelief was the weakness of this village to begin with. Even if he assumed they were kidnapped one by one, there wasn't a single goblin with enough intelligence to carry out such a complicated plan.

"Even their chief fought driven purely by animal instinct… How could he come up with an elaborate scheme?"

The second thing was that these women, no matter how he looked at them, had nothing in common; it was as if they had been brought here from distant and scattered places. A strange thought crossed his mind: perhaps the Beast Kingdom was preparing for a tug-of-war that might erupt into war within two or three years. But he quickly dismissed the idea—after all, all kingdoms, even the Beast Kingdom, had signed an accord under the witness of the Sovereign. So there shouldn't be anything like that.

As Kyle looked at them—naked, powerless—he felt a genuine sense of helplessness. He ran his hand through his hair slowly, exhaling a heavy breath that mixed the smell of blood and sweat with the cold scent of iron.

"Seems like I got myself involved in something I shouldn't have."

Even though he had removed the goblin spawn from these women's wombs, he saw no spark of life in their eyes. Even the diluted holy water he'd given them had done little more than ease their pain slightly.

He studied them carefully, noticing the trembling of their shoulders, their cold skin nearly sticking to the filthy ground. He thought:

"First thing I need to do is find something to cover them with. Having them walk around like this would be bad..."

Kyle felt nothing at the sight of thirty naked women before him. He wasn't the type to exploit such a situation—or maybe he would have been, had he been a heartless noble, demanding money or rare elixirs. But seeing their pitiful state like this awakened something strange within him for the first time in this world: anger… pity… and a heavy sorrow that weighed on his chest like a damp stone.

He hadn't known these feelings since he gained his unique traits: the trait of a cold heart and mind; his emotions and thoughts always under strict control.

He took a slow breath, squared his shoulders, stepped forward, and felt his footsteps echo faintly amid the smell of blood and iron. He raised his eyes, looked at them, and tried to gather some warmth in his voice:

"Can you come up with me to the surface?"

The moment he spoke, he noticed there was no clear reaction except for a slight change in the color of their auras, which shifted to [fear]. Some of them trembled, and the air around them seemed to draw the warmth from their weakened bodies.

He quickly added, gesturing to the dark passage behind him:

"Don't worry... I've wiped out all the goblins above."

But their auras shifted from [fear] to [suspicion and doubt]. Kyle felt a sharp headache pierce his head like a cold needle. He let out a long sigh, his breath seeming to scatter the iron scent clinging to his chest.

He spoke in a low, firm voice, raising his right hand:

"I swear by the Lady of Life that I, Kyle, have wiped out all the goblins in this village. And if I lie, may a divine punishment fall upon me."

Kyle had no choice but to swear by the Lady of Life. The result was clear the moment he did—[suspicion and doubt] faded, replaced by a faint [hope]. Kyle felt something soften in his chest.

He turned toward the passage, and this time his voice was steady:

"Come... follow me."

Kyle needed to find a solution quickly to get rid of this trouble that had appeared out of nowhere. He muttered to himself, barely audible amid the echo of the damp passage:

"Man... I'm barely able to survive long enough to finish my studies and return home... and now here I am, facing a group of women used as breeding tools... No one knows what kind of mess I've dragged myself into."

With cautious steps, Kyle exited to the prison's entrance, casting a vigilant glance around him, sniffing for the smell of blood that usually attracted beasts, but the place was quiet—no sounds of breathing, no scratching claws in the shadows. All that surrounded him were the remains of his battle with the goblins.

He whispered to himself as he looked at the scattered goblin corpses:

"Honestly, ever since I condensed the Seed of Life, I rarely encounter monsters anymore."

Before condensing the Seed of Life, he'd faced monsters almost every other day. Now, they were a rare sight. What he didn't know was that the beasts of the forest feared him—some even called him the "Reaper King," a being who walked on two legs, shrouded in a terrifying sacred aura and invisible flames, making them avoid him like a forbidden zone.

Once he made sure everything was safe, he turned and saw the women following him, clinging to one another, led by the oldest among them—the first one he had rescued. He gestured for them to come forward:

"It's safe."

The women stepped out behind him. When they saw the piles of goblin corpses scattered everywhere, they felt a faint relief mixed with the hot scent of blood staining the ground. Suddenly, one of them lunged at a goblin corpse, knelt over it, and struck it with her trembling fist. When she was sure it was truly dead, she grabbed a thick stick from the debris and smashed the goblin's head until its skull crumbled, black blood splattering her face and her thin, starved hands. Hatred drove her to strike it again and again.

Kyle watched this scene in silence and didn't stop her. He just stood there, his eyes burning red beneath the moonlight that cast a pale yellowish glow. The other women followed her lead, each finding an outlet for their torment by beating the corpses of their oppressors until their strength gave out and they collapsed to their knees, sobbing bitterly, their broken cries filling the village air with ragged lament.

Kyle looked at them with his burning crimson eyes, then thought silently:

"Each one of them has her own story... A wife, a young girl in her prime... They had families and lost everything. All because of this vile race."

He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling his black hair sway with a breeze tinged with the scent of fresh blood. He opened his eyes again, and a bloody red glint flickered in them.

"But whose fault is it? Is it the fault of the lords of the land they were taken from? The fault of the soldiers who didn't save them? Their families'? Or the Kingdom of Astalia's? Neither. It's their fault: their weakness. If they had been stronger, they could have fought… or been strong enough to end their own lives and stop their suffering."

He didn't blame them. He was only reminding himself:

"Weakness is a sin… Be strong, stronger than any being that ever walked this land. Then your words will be the law, no matter your place or rank."

Kyle searched for clothes made from beast hides to cover the women's bare bodies. He also helped them prepare a simple meal and some drinkable water. He let them rest for a while, while he set traps along the path he had come from in case of any threat.

Then he gathered the goblin corpses and mounted their heads on the village walls, piling their bodies in the village center, the air thick with the stench of fermented blood and merciless death. It was his way of venting his anger at this vile race.

Afterward, he went into a small hut, sat on an animal hide mat, and stared at a tattered map before him, looking for a way out of this mess. His eyes traced the lines and paths until they stopped at a small village near the forest's edge. It had nothing remarkable except for one thing: a Life Temple.

He struck his fist lightly against his palm:

"Yes… The Life Temple can take these women in… Maybe they'll even find out why they were here. This way, the Life Temple will have to deal with this problem."

He estimated the distance—it would be a two-day journey alone, but with these women, it would take four to five days at least.

"Even if the plan fails, I can leave them there in the village."

With what seemed like a reasonable plan, he allowed his eyes to grow heavy and closed them for a bit of rest in preparation for the journey ahead.

The night passed quickly, and with the sunrise, Kyle awoke to the sound of distant birdsong and the rustle of dry leaves underfoot. He checked his preparations, then turned to the thirty women who waited for him in silent fear and faint hope. He gestured forward.

Thus began Kyle's journey with these women toward the human village where the Life Temple stood.