An island in the midst of a deadly ocean. The red light from the torch and the burning magic depicts the silhouette of peeling walls, crumbling tiles, and the half-torn Oda flag that still flutters.
In the main corridor of the sanctuary, the sound of running footsteps and the creaking of dragged swords mark a night that never truly sleeps. The Oda samurai fight desperately at every corner, while the sound of the Iron Blossom Division drums echoes in the distance—growing closer by the moment.
But the most deadly threat tonight does not only come from outside the walls. Betrayal has already hatched from within, and tonight, the hunt for the womb begins.
The flickering firelight casts terrifying shadows on the faces of the samurai, highlighting the turmoil hidden in their hearts. They all wait, every heartbeat echoing in the silence, as if they know that tonight is a gamble of life and death.
Minoru, a young samurai who has sacrificed his family for the promise of Earth's amnesty, creeps down the back corridor of the altar. He clutches a small letter inscribed with the glyph of the traitor, his eyes filled with anxiety. On one hand, he knows that his betrayal means the death of dozens of his fellow students; on the other hand, he clings to the promise that only by opening the southern route can he and his family escape the massacre.
The moment of tension hangs in the air, making each of his steps feel heavier, like walking on unstable ground. Swallowing hard, he fumbles the surface of the letter, feeling every curve of the letters that seem to sing of betrayal and hope.
At the junction of the corridor, he encounters Aiko, a female protector, who stares at him sharply, holding back suspicion. "Minoru, where are you sneaking off to on a night like this?"
Aiko's expression shows suppressed anger, though there is a flicker of concern in her gaze. She tilts her head slightly, wanting to ensure that Minoru is not carrying a dangerous mission in the wrong direction, sensing that something is amiss even if she cannot articulate it.
Minoru stammers, his voice trembling, "I... I'm just checking the evacuation route for the children and the refugees beneath the altar."
Aiko steps closer, her eyes narrowing. But before her suspicion can grow, an explosion shakes the southern corridor. Stones from the altar collapse; dust and flames fill the air.
"It's... the enemy has breached the southern boundary!" Aiko cries in panic.
Minoru can only pretend to be shocked, but in his chest, his breath is tight, knowing that his betrayal has just killed dozens of soldiers at the weakest guard post. The attack betrays his trust, creating a wave of dark guilt, as if every explosion is a fragment of a lost soul.
In the command room of the sanctuary, Nobuzan stands before a glyph map filled with blood and ash scribbles. She analyzes every weak point, re-mapping the positions of the protectors just by observing the enemy's speed of movement. The lines on her face deepen as she contemplates the choices she must make, as if accumulating the weight of responsibility on her shoulders.
Hayate arrives with a report, "The southern corridor has been breached, ten soldiers are down, and several protectors are still unaccounted for."
Nobuzan's face remains stoic, ignoring the pain lying outside, like a beacon in a storm. She shows no emotion, instead taking a pen and marking the location with a deep black. Each stroke of the pen is a life-and-death decision, marking a shift in fate in this increasingly merciless game.
"From this moment on, all southern routes are considered dead zones. Prepare to reinforce the spells in the northern corridor. Send eight diversionary soldiers to the empty corridor—I want the enemy to believe that my womb has been moved to the western altar. Let's make them split their forces. If necessary, kill anyone who tries to infiltrate, including those who appear to be allies."
Hayate swallows hard. He feels the tension in the air, as if every word spoken by Nobuzan carries a weight that could crush. His face pales, and his trembling hands nearly drop the helmet he wears. He knows Nobuzan's orders are serious. Anyone who is weak or hesitant will become a victim—not by the enemy, but by their own leader's hand. A gentle breeze sweeps through the cold walls, carrying the scent of blood and death that is still fresh.
The Iron Blossom Division enters the sanctuary in a trained formation. Each carries a blood-tracking glyph—a black object that emits a cold aura. At the end of the corridor, they are guided by a faint signal coming from Minoru's letter.
Their leader, Captain Marius, a slender man with sharp eyes like a snake, ruthlessly organizes the troops. His lips curl into a sinister smile as they move forward, as if relying on the fear that will arise in the hearts of his subordinates. "Find the womb. Kill anyone who tries to obstruct. Our time is limited—dawn must bring Nobuzan's head."
At every junction, the Earth hunters encounter traps: glyph bombs, toxic wire snares, even rooms filled with burning oil. Nobuzan has laid traps in three layers—each trap designed to slow down, not to kill directly, so that the enemy goes deeper and becomes easier to ensnare. Sweat drips from the hunters' temples, mingling with the creeping fear in every corner of their minds. With every step taken, anxiety increasingly reveals the faces that once held confidence, now transformed into shadows of darkness.
When one of the Earth forces finally breaches the false altar room, they find only wooden dolls and bloody cloth—decoys left by Nobuzan, convincing enough to make Captain Marius waste time in the wrong corridor. "Damn..." Captain Marius grips the neck of the doll, his expression a mix of anger and confusion before terror. He is determined that no more mistakes will be made in front of this cunning enemy, solidifying his steps into the corridor of darkness.
Meanwhile, the remaining Oda forces launch a guerrilla counterattack. Hayate leads a surprise attack in the underground prison, slashing two womb hunters with the Kage Utsushi technique—deceptive shadows that make the enemy unable to distinguish between real soldiers and illusions. With focused eyes, Hayate launches his attack like a gust of wind, his smile thin yet hiding a deep intent to kill. He knows that every movement is a gamble of life and death, and he will not let the shadows of fear dominate his mind.
As the battle rages in the corridors, Nobuzan remains at the altar, accompanied by five female protectors and one samurai guard. Outside the room, the sounds of explosions and the screams of victims grow closer. Yet Nobuzan is unafraid; she even orders her protectors to prepare to seal the room with self-destruct glyphs if everything fails.
"Do you think I will die without a fight? Prepare the spells; if I give the command, destroy this altar along with my body."
Nobuzan's voice sounds terrifying, with a sharp gaze that can pierce the darkness surrounding her. The expression on her face shows determination, but there is a flicker of doubt in her eyes, creating a mixed feeling among her protectors.
Suddenly, a scream from the back corridor makes everyone turn. The wooden altar door is kicked open, and Minoru appears battered, blood dripping from his temple. His panicked gaze makes every heart in the room beat faster, adding to the tense atmosphere that has overshadowed the room.
"The enemy is close! They will breach the northern corridor! They know where you are, Princess!"
Nobuzan's eyes narrow, filled with suspicion. The tension on her face tightens, as if every heartbeat vibrates with the approaching threat. "How did you escape, Minoru? There should be no gaps in the southern corridor..."
Before Minoru can answer, Hayate enters with a bloodied sword. His movements are quick and steady, but there is an unease in his eyes that cannot be hidden.
"I'm sorry, Princess. The traitor has been found—and punished."
Minoru gasps, his eyes wide, and a look of fear crosses his face. But before he can scream, Hayate stabs him from behind, paying for his betrayal with blood in front of the altar. The sound of the knife piercing flesh breaks the silence, making the entire room fall silent for a moment.
"We do not need a traitor in this sanctuary."
Nobuzan nods coldly, her expression as hard as stone, the frame of her eyes signaling a deep helplessness in facing this brutal decision. "Clean up his blood. Let there be no remnants of fear in this room."
In the underground corridors, the chase turns into a massacre. The remaining Oda soldiers fight like ghosts—appearing and disappearing, killing silently, leaving bloody messages: "No womb for the enemy. No hope for the traitor."
In Gaia's hiding place, Iris hears from her protector that the Oda Sanctuary is being attacked from within and without. Cold sweat drips from her temples as her mind races, trying to formulate a final plan that might save them. "We can no longer hope for help from Oda," whispers Miel, Iris's loyal protector. Miel's voice trembles, as if a heavy burden envelops every word she speaks. "Are we... should we also prepare like them, Your Majesty?"
Iris closes her eyes, tears falling. She knows that tonight may be the last time she holds her belly, which is beginning to contract. As those tears fall, her mind races back to the past, reminiscing about precious moments when everything felt safe, and hope still existed. The gentle sound of the wind reminds her of the uncertainty that now threatens.
At the altar, Nobuzan gazes at Minoru's cleaned corpse. She whispers to her five female protectors, "If the enemy enters, do not hesitate. I want them to remember Oda's wrath, not my weakness. I will die with honor, not with fear." Nobuzan's voice is firm, though a flicker of doubt glimmers in her eyes. She looks into the determined faces of her protectors, seeking reassurance in their gazes. In the tension that envelops the room, she feels a vibration of energy, as if their fates are intertwined with what will happen next.
Hayate prepares the self-destruct spell at the altar entrance. The protectors embrace their weapons and glyph scrolls, knowing that the next command will only be to commit suicide if Nobuzan utters the final password. Their faces are stunned, but behind that tension, there is an unwavering spirit of courage. The altar pillars tremble as if responding to the decision that hangs on the edge.
Outside the altar, Captain Marius finally finds the main corridor, leading ten of Earth's best soldiers. They burn the hiding place and search every corner. However, in his heart, Marius feels something darker than the fire he spreads; he senses a mysterious calling, as if this arena is determined by something greater than mere warfare.
When they finally breach the main altar door, greeted by Hayate and the last four protectors, the battle turns into a close-quarters slaughter. Glyphs explode, swords dance, spells are shouted without pause.
In the midst of the smoke, Nobuzan stands on the altar, her family sword drawn, her cold voice echoing:
With eyes blazing with anger and tension, she looks at Hayate with a gaze that seems to want to crush all remaining hope. There is a wild flash on her face, depicting hatred and determination intertwined.
"Anyone who wants Oda's womb must take it from my corpse!"
The fight reaches its peak, blood flooding the altar floor. The female protectors, armed with swords, gasp for breath, while Hayate bites his lip, holding back the pain that grows sharper. As the smoke clears, only Nobuzan, the gravely injured Hayate, and three female protectors with wounds all over their bodies remain.
The remaining Earth womb hunters retreat, realizing that victory will not come easily that night. One of them looks at his comrades with fear, cold sweat dripping from his temples, questions swirling: 'Is this the end of everything?'
Dawn has not yet arrived, but the war is not over. In the sanctuary, blood, ash, and remnants of spells adorn the room, bearing witness to the cruelty of the night. Nobuzan still stands, firm and proud, refusing to die before the world truly collapses.
In Gaia, Iris prays in silence, hoping that tonight is not the end of everything—though she knows that hope is the last luxury in a world waiting for destruction.