22~Am I Also One of the Oppressors?
“Let’s part ways here, Mr. Keleding. As the commander of the uprising, you must have more pressing matters to attend to.” Upon reaching the city gates, Tillysha gave a slight bow to Keleding, who had come to bid her farewell.
“Would it not be rude of me not to personally see you off, when you’ve traveled so far from Coleman City?” Keleding remained composed, his manners impeccable, the ingrained behavior of a nobleman evident in his every move.
Whether this uprising or its leader would amount to anything remained unclear to Tillysha. After all, the times make heroes, and until the dust settles on this one, anything could still happen.
We’ll just have to wait and see what heaven decides.
But one thing was certain: no matter the uprising’s success, the wheels of history wouldn’t change course. The destined would be crushed under its weight, one by one, without exception.
This once-mighty empire was now akin to a drunken buffoon slumped on a street corner—impressive only in size, otherwise all fat and flab, ready to topple at the slightest touch.
It became evident to Tillysha that this uprising wasn’t birthed with the people’s welfare in mind. She realized staying longer served no purpose.
In this alternate medieval world, the ideology of noble superiority was deeply entrenched. Knights too, being hereditary nobles, were unlikely to possess any revolutionary consciousness.
Since words failed to align between them, they might as well part ways cordially.
As Tillysha indicated her intent to leave, Keleding didn’t make any attempts to forcibly detain her. Politely, gentleman-like, he accorded her all the appropriate courtesy.
Yet Tillysha wasn’t blind to the undertones in his words. Throughout their conversation, Keleding had been subtly suggesting their ‘kindred spirits,’ trying to win Tillysha’s recognition, hoping for her noble identity’s leverage, perhaps even enticing foreign aid.
His efforts bore no fruit. Tillysha displayed no interest in collaborating with him. Her politeness and pleasantries concealed no cooperative intent.
Despite the empire’s weakened state, it still outclassed Keleding’s uprising. Aiding a rabble of zealots wasn’t exactly appealing. Keleding’s hopes of leveraging a foreign power through Tillysha’s connections appeared overly optimistic.
Yimi, observing Keleding’s act, sneered inwardly, disdainful of human scheming and hypocrisy.
“Commander, are we just letting them walk away so easily?” The blue-skinned man gave the retreating girls a nasty glance. “No one leaves Mosso City alive without permission since the uprising.”
“They’ve seen our hideout. If they join forces with the empire and leak our intelligence…” he paused for effect.
“They won’t betray us to the empire.” Keleding asserted, though not entirely sure. His decision to let them leave unmolested stemmed more from a desire not to offend more noble factions. He had enough trouble with the empire without antagonizing foreign forces.
This wasn’t the time to make enemies. It would be wiser to recruit as many noble allies as he could to stand against the empire.
Of course, this thought process would never cross Keleding’s lips. He was well aware of his soldiers’ hatred for the aristocracy. Any indication of cooperation would diminish his standing.
Tillysha had gauged Keleding correctly. Beneath his facade of justice lay sheer self-interest. Whatever caused his transformation into this monster of a man, his current mindset revolved solely around personal gain. The cost in human lives meant nothing to him.
Tillysha saw through the pretense—neither empire nor uprising cared for the lives of the commoners. To them, lives were just bargaining chips, not individuals.
In the past, what would the original Tillysha have done in such a situation? She found herself pondering the character of her past self and whether it influenced her current personhood.
One thing remained constant, whether in her previous or present life: she could not sit idly by.
“Are you planning to stop that monster?” Yimi suddenly asked, her emerald eyes calm yet penetrating, empathy letting her glimpse Tillysha’s thoughts.
“Not before I send you safely back to Coleman Academy.” Tillysha, taller than the small, furry Yimi, gave her head a gentle rub.
Having taken Yimi under her wing as a form of protection wasn’t an obligation she intended to burden herself with on further adventures.
“I don’t need your protection,” Yimi irritably swatted Tillysha’s hand away. “You’re not scared I’ll turn on you, are you?”
“This isn’t a picnic; it’s dangerous.”
“I don’t care! I’m going with you.” Yimi glared at her. “Danger’s fine—maybe then I’ll get to see you d*e.”
Despite Yimi’s obstinacy, Tillysha relented.
“Say,”
“Hmm?” Tillysha snapped out of her thoughts at Yimi’s voice.
“Why do you insist on meddling in other people’s problems?” Yimi enquired. “As much as I pity these oppressed humans, we have no obligation to save them—it’ll cost us our lives.”
Such was Yimi’s pragmatic view. She’d help someone in distress without hesitation, but sacrificing herself for strangers was out of the question.
“Humans, elves, aren’t we all beings of this world?” Tillysha argued. “All things possess spirit, as the Mother Goddess of Elves said. Every insect, every forest, has a purpose, forming our stable world.”
“I don’t know how much I can do, but I simply can’t stand by and do nothing.”
“How’s that any different from those who harm others?” Yimi shot back abruptly. “Human lives matter, but what about your own kin?” The memory of Tillysha harming her own kind flitted across Yimi’s mind, souring her tone.
Tillysha, recalling fragments of recovered memories from bl**d-soaked elven villages, couldn’t answer.
“Why so quiet? Normally, you’d just brush off my words, so why now…?” It almost seemed like…
She admitted it all.
Yimi wasn’t sure why, but seeing Tillysha’s deflated reaction made her strangely uneasy.
“Talk, will you? This silence is maddening!” Yimi gripped Tillysha’s hand, her nails digging into the flesh.
“Yimi, this trip is partly about recovering my lost memories.”
“So, you’ve remembered something?” Yimi pressed.
Tillysha said nothing, silencing Yimi further. Before she could continue, a foul, intense stench invaded their senses.
“Is the monster nearby?” Recognizing the smell, Yimi’s expression darkened.
“No, it has been here.” Tillysha, sensing something, drew her longbow, activated her realm, and bolted forward in a blur of gold.
“Hey, wait for me!” Yimi sprinted after her, her short legs struggling to keep pace.
The stench grew unbearable, almost tangible, and despite covering her nose, Yimi still suffered physically. She pressed on relentlessly to keep up with Tillysha.
As they approached the ruins, Tillysha’s demeanor darkened. Her usual trace of a smile vanished entirely.
Reaching Coleman City’s walls, she found them breached and ablaze inside. Broken blocks of masonry lined the perimeter, and inside through the gaping hole, the city had become a fiery hell—far worse than Furnace City had been.
The streets ran with rivers of bl**d, the bodies piled high, countless lives lost in just half a day.
“How many families, how many lives?”
Amidst the stench and destruction, the ruins whispered tales of despair. Tillysha felt the spirits of the slain cry out—of loss and suffering, eyes forever staring at an unseen future.
Have I come too late, again?
The haunting memory returned.
“Even as an Elf Divine Warrior, what can you do?” Tillysha, clutching her head in pain, saw the vision transform—she now faced her silver-haired, horned self, flanked by green-hued, red-skinned demons.
“You may stand against a thousand warriors, but can you bear the weight of centuries of hatred and resentment from thousands of people?”
“The divine authority springs from supreme desires.”
“Our people revere the Holy Tree, granting nature-related powers; demi-humans thrive through hunting, gaining powers suited to it; humans worship the war god Karetto for weapon-related powers.”
“But desires have negative forms too. What happens when thousands of people hold a grudge, yearning to overthrow their rulers?”
Tillysha remembered now.
No wonder Princess Filisia’s words rang familiar. That ancient tome hadn’t lied.
This world’s root power wasn’t from anywhere else—it stemmed from the intense yearnings and desires of all beings.
Through cruel exploitation, humans conceived rebellion against the empire. Though they dared not act, the resentment built, birthing the corpse flower.
The corpse flower was the product of their ‘desires’—the dying wishes of the oppressed, a last, feeble retaliation against their exploiters.
These meek souls dared not challenge the empire’s authority directly. Little did the empire know, the very people they treated like cattle would unravel their rule. Uncontrolled resentment now indiscriminately attacked every living thing it encountered.
Until that resentment found release, the monster would continue in its devastation.
So, Tillysha looked upon the wrecked capital with mixed emotions.
A revelation, almost like everything fit into place now.
But knowing the truth didn’t bring relief.
If this was true, then the elves might have faced the same fate. The oppressed generated resentment powerful enough to corrupt some elves into demons, opening the gates to their realms, allowing the invasion of the Elf Forest.
And Tillysha herself, as the second daughter of the former Elf King, could have been one of the oppressors…
Tillysha struggled to accept this reality. Though that Tillysha wasn’t her, it still weighed heavily on her, leaving her breathless.
Were her former self and the empire’s rulers alike after all?
