Chapter 58
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Translator: volt
Chapter: 58
Chapter Title: Liberation
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Clang! Clang clank!
"Huff, huff... A-are you alright?"
"I'm... still holding up, for now. What about you, Walter?"
I wasn't short back in Korea either, but one thing I've realized since coming here.
"I... I'm... having a bit of trouble."
I've turned into some kind of giant.
It's the 16th century now. Compared to 21st-century developed countries, people's nutritional status and growth environments around the world are far inferior.
Even sturdy white adult men of this era like Walter Raleigh or Vicente Gonzalez were at least 10 centimeters shorter than me. Naturally, there was a huge gap in build and stamina too.
"Shall we take a break?"
"No... With departure so close, let's hand it over to Vicente instead. Hey! Vicente, come over and spar with Nemo in my place...!"
"M-me? Isn't there someone else...?"
"Thomas Huet is a lawyer, and John White is a painter. Who else is there besides us?"
That's why it wasn't surprising that the two of them, who were supposed to teach me swordsmanship and various martial arts until the battle, collapsed right away.
And they had even skipped teaching me physical training methods and such. Of course, no matter how systematic 16th-century training was, it couldn't surpass 21st-century exercise regimens.
Skipping all those steps and jumping straight to swordsmanship had led to this.
"Huff... huff..."
All three of us sprawled out.
People often say 21st-century folks who just sit at desks are much weaker than those from the past. That doesn't apply to me.
You bastards, aren't I a 21st-century guy? Office workers think the world revolves around them.
"So, when holding a sword, maintaining perfect balance is most important, and defending against enemy attacks is... uh..."
"..."
"..."
"Come to think of it, do we even need to defend?"
"...Vicente, I feel pain too, you know."
"Aha."
Aha, my ass. Don't act like you've just had an epiphany. I still wake up from nightmares about getting stabbed sometimes.
...Now that I think about it, my first stabbing was because of you.
"Anyway... huff, huff... You said you'd teach me swordsmanship, but it's unfamiliar and just exhausting."
"Is that so? But if close combat breaks out..."
"Then I'll use my own methods, Walter."
"..."
"..."
The two exchanged whispers about me, then nodded and spoke.
"Understood. Well, with your superior build and stamina, Nemo, it should be fine."
"Normally, for someone heading into their first battle, we'd just hope they don't get hurt... but surely you won't, right?"
Wow, they don't worry about me at all. I am human too. Human...
Oh, right. I'm not human to them.
Looking back, maybe I should question if surviving a stab to the heart makes one human. But whatever, it's not important.
A few days later, I boarded the Voyager with some suitable self-defense tools.
Thus, we raised the banner of slave liberation and set off on our grand voyage.
...
...
...
Voyage end.
Arrival at Ndakaaru, West Africa (modern Senegal's capital, Dakar).
It's a port not far from Ribeira Grande, where the Spanish are garrisoned. It's also a hub where slaves, gold, ivory, and various luxuries flow through.
"Walter, any news on the Spanish?"
"Since Spaniards and Portuguese frequent the area, it's hard to pinpoint the fleet we're after from the info. Results should come soon.
And according to the data Drake brought, they still have 3 or 4 weeks before departure, right?"
"Then..."
"Yes. We have enough time to free the slaves."
"Let's move slowly along the coast then."
So we left Ndakaaru and headed southwest. Soon, we reached the coastal areas near the homelands of most of the Africans we'd brought.
We set the liberated ones ashore, and they slowly looked around, breathing in the air of their now unfamiliar homeland.
Truth be told, it was ambiguous to call it their homeland.
It's not like dropping kidnapped Koreans, Swedes, Lebanese, and Vietnamese roughly in New York and calling it 'home.'
Grouping people from different tribes, speaking different languages, captured as slaves by the Spanish and dumping them here en masse was absurd.
But it was the best we could do. We couldn't track down each individual's homeland. Most had lost theirs entirely anyway.
Still, most now spoke broken Spanish and English, and shared experiences had built bonds.
We could only hope they'd live together on this land.
"Over there! New settlers!"
"Lord Rolli's here too! Move the new supplies first!"
In this new settlement.
Liberia.
Latin for 'land of the free.' No better name existed.
It was also the name given by American abolitionists in original history to the African nation for freed slaves.
The hundreds of liberated slaves we'd dropped off earlier in Liberia greeted the latecomers in Spanish.
They hesitated but stepped into the village surrounded by a palisade. Oh, right. We still had something for them.
"Wait! Hold on!"
I shouted, and they all turned in surprise. At my gesture, sailors set muskets, ammo, and daily necessities at their feet.
"There are tribes here armed not just with bows and arrows, but guns from Europeans. Use these to protect yourselves and others."
"..."
"More settlers will come. Walter Raleigh and Vicente Gonzalez here will keep bringing people like you, so welcome them.
And one thing: don't enslave or sell others.
Don't do to anyone what Europeans and other kings or chiefs did to you.
That's all I ask. You're free now."
"..."
"..."
"..."
Of course, no one could pretend not to understand. They stared blankly at my face, then picked up the guns and supplies one by one.
But oddly, they lingered, unwilling to leave the shore. As I wondered why and opened my mouth...
The eldest middle-aged man asked in Spanish.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you go this far?"
"..."
"I've seen countless Spaniards since being captured as a slave. Some kind, some cruel.
One poured cold water on my back when he pitied me whipped in the heat; another shot at me to make me mine silver faster.
But to all, I was a slave. Even a kind master who wanted to free me demanded a price."
I saw myself reflected in the middle-aged man's eyes. Just an ordinary grape farmer.
"But... what you're doing has no price. None at all."
Yet he seemed to see something else in me.
"You cross oceans for this priceless act, give food and weapons to strangers unrelated to you. Your demands are trivial.
And now you're off to risk your life fighting others."
"That's right."
"Why? Because your 'scriptures' say so?
But my Spanish master taught obedience from the 'scriptures' too. Isn't it strange? I... can't understand..."
"Don't try to understand."
I pondered my answer, glancing at Vicente and Rolli beside me.
I saw the liberated slaves lining up behind the middle-aged man, and behind me, the Spaniards, Englishmen, and Algonquians.
I chose my words carefully.
Whatever I said next would be eternally etched in their minds.
"...Those countless disasters that befell you."
My words weren't just for the man before me, but for all gathered: Europeans, Africans, Americans.
"Can you comprehend that malice? Why the world is so cruel and horrific? I dare not. Can you?"
The man pondered, then shook his head.
"I... don't know either. How it came to this."
"Then no need to understand this either. It's beyond understanding."
I told him.
"I did it not because our scriptures say so, but because it's right. My soul demanded it, so I followed."
"..."
"Righteousness needs no reward.
People say evil brings punishment, good brings reward. But even without reward, goodness has value in itself."
"..."
"So I did it. Curiosity satisfied?"
The man blinked, then spoke.
"Still don't get it. But one thing I know."
"..."
"You... are a truly strange being."
Conversation ended.
As he turned, others slowly headed to the settlement.
I turned to return to the ship...
"..."
"..."
"..."
Everyone watched me.
Rolli murmured a light prayer toward me.
"So, who the hell is 'he' exactly?"
Liberia's residents shared no common traits.
Tribes, languages, homelands, bloodlines—nothing in common.
Only one memory bound them.
"Who would do such a thing? Didn't you just talk to 'him'? What did he say?"
"..."
The memory of 'liberation.'
Memory of Virginia.
Memory of the strange man who ruled it and spoke all tongues.
What man was he, for what reason, what purpose, to free them?
Some said they were chosen as an army to conquer this land. He leaves weapons and food regularly—doesn't that prove it? Liberia's a fortress and forward base.
Others said they were being tricked. No one gives resources without cost; possessed by some weird spirit.
Whatever the truth, they'd heard no reason or goal, just anchored here.
They built the settlement, accepted more people, but idled unsure what to do.
They wondered if they should just stay lumped together, what his true intent was.
"...I saw you talk to 'him.' Tell us."
Rumors said today might bring answers, so all residents gathered around the middle-aged man.
"...An angel."
He uttered that one word and closed his eyes quietly.
"Oh, amen..."
Converted Christians crossed themselves.
The rest tilted heads, not understanding.
But soon they'd know too.
No, all of Africa.
Someday, the whole world.
Would know his will.
Business done, we returned to Ndakaaru and hunkered down.
We'd stay here gathering intel unless something came up.
What intel?
"First... confirm if the Spanish buy 'merchandise' as Drake reported."
Rolli whispered.
"Watch the buzz among local merchants."
"Think merchants will spill info freely?"
"Of course not. Need anything?"
"Hmm..."
Thus, I ended up with heaps of coffee beans.
Wow, direct purchase via England is way cheaper!
Days later, enjoying caffeine freely, Rolli rushed back.
"Found it! Rumor of a big contract: buying 2,000 slaves at once!
No deal this size before, everyone's whispering! It's definitely our fleet!"
"Departure date?"
"Three weeks, as we scouted. Best to quietly watch the flow of people and goods."
"Don't we have the basics? Risk watching more?"
"Yes. Rumors of major warships massing at Ribeira Grande—we need their full strength."
Rolli nodded firmly.
"We'll probe further. Minimize contact with those Spaniards, use Spanish sailors to ask around."
"Got it."
Time passed again.
Soon Rolli burst into the cabin a second time, breathless.
"Confirmed enemy fleet size."
"We know: 15 ships..."
"23 ships!"
"...Pardon?"
"They knew Drake leaked info from the start. And..."
Rolli hung his head.
"They've already sailed.
We must pursue now."