The ritual in the ancestral hall was solemn. Nobuzan, accompanied by the elders and attendants, led a prayer for protection. "What do you feel? This essence is unusual," she said, gazing intently at Fitran. Fitran stood behind, reading an ancient text that seemed to seek guidance from the spirits of the founders of Oda. "We need clear guidance, not just whispers," he replied, his voice low yet firm. In the dim light of the incense, Fitran exchanged the results of the prophecy—meant to bring hope—with a vague message full of threats:

  "The roots of the Oda tree are torn from within. The blood of traitors will stain the courtyard unless the enemy within is removed before the third dawn."

  "What does all this mean?" Senzaburo asked, his face anxious. "We can't let this ruin everything," Hisayuki responded, his tone trembling. The whispers of the prophecy spread among the elders, sowing seeds of fear. "We must keep our distance," Senzaburo said, his expression tense. "If we start to suspect each other, no one will survive." They all nodded, but their eyes scrutinized one another. Fitran, hidden behind the curtain, observed who was most easily swayed by the unseen terror. "Who can we trust?" he whispered to himself, filled with doubt.

  "Can you prepare a stretcher?" Nobuzan requested, her voice trembling despite her efforts to remain calm. Her face reflected deep pain, yet she tried to maintain a strong demeanor, adding firmly, "But don’t waste time resting. We don’t have the luxury for that."

  Fitran stood in the corner, his face obscured by the dim light. "Something is not right, Nobuzan," he whispered, his eyes sharp. "If the family continues to show unrest, we must act before they go too far."

  "Follow those who are restless," he commanded. "They may be thinking something we don’t know. Make sure to note every step they take—especially those who frequently cross the kitchen and the relic room. And don’t speak to anyone else before reporting to me."

  Nobuzan leaned against the wall, observing every corner of the room. "Is it really this bad, Fitran?" she asked, her voice hoarse. "It feels as if suspicion hangs in the air."

  "We are teetering on the edge of a cliff," Fitran replied coldly. "Security is never excessive when the world is on the brink of destruction. We cannot afford to lose by blindly trusting our own blood; remember that."

  "Look at that," Nobuzan said, her voice shaking as she stared at the smoke rising from the fields. "They are not just burning the land, but our future."

  "We can’t just stand here," one of the young guards said, his face filled with anxiety. "What should we do, my lord?"

  "There is another way," Nobuzan replied quietly, her eyes piercing through the darkness. "We can use what they consider weak."

  "The river tunnel?" Fitran asked hesitantly, looking at the guards. "What can we place in the water?"

  "Poison," Nobuzan replied, her tone tense. "But not just any poison. This, if used, could change everything."

  "You have a choice," Nobuzan continued, a cynical smile on her face. "Live in chaos, or turn it into strength. Are you brave enough?"

  That night, as the fire slowly died down, the atmosphere grew more oppressive. "False news is spreading," Fitran whispered, "but are we sure it’s just news?"

  "Who knows who is moving in the shadows?" a guard replied hoarsely, his eyes shining with suspicion. "It’s hard to trust what we see."

  As those words echoed in the darkness, they all felt the weight of the mystery surrounding them. "Only time will tell," Fitran finally said, filled with tension. "But we must be prepared for whatever comes."

  At midnight, an alarm sounded. One of the eastern gates opened from within. "What’s happening? Why is the gate open?" Fitran asked as he ran with the guards. He feigned surprise when he found two elderly attendants trembling at the gaping door. "Don’t just stand there! Hurry, tell us!" His voice was filled with tension.

  "We don’t know what’s happening," one of the attendants replied, fear evident in his eyes. "It’s just us here... and," his voice trembled, "there’s something else." Outside, enemy forces quietly began to infiltrate, like shadows lurking.

  But behind all this, traps had been set: pitfall traps, hidden fire arrows, spiral cables ready to cut off the enemy's escape. Fitran turned to one of the guards, "Let them believe. Let them in." He pretended to be restrained by the guard, watching the approaching enemy. "They think they have won... but we know the truth."

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  "Come on, quickly! The door...!" one of the guards shouted as the enemy forces began to enter the area. "Patience," Fitran replied coldly, "let time speak." Then, as the enemy advanced far enough, the traps were triggered. The sound of arrows and spirals burned the front lines of Qihuang Shin like lightning on a quiet night.

  "In war, the greatest victory is making the enemy believe they control their own fate," Fitran whispered with a cold smile behind the smoke, his voice hoarse yet firm. "Let them feel safe until the time comes." With that, darkness became their ally.

  The next dawn, an envoy from Emperor Wu Xianying arrived—bearing a white banner. Fitran observed them, his smile cold as they stepped into the secret hall. Two loyal guards stood tall, watching every movement. "This is not just a negotiation, is it?" Fitran asked, his voice calm yet full of meaning.

  The envoy stared at him sharply, "You know why we are here, Fitran. This agreement could change everything."

  The negotiation was tense, their words exchanged like swords. "We will not forgive the blood of Oda with mere sweet words," the envoy said, his voice high and threatening. "Choose, today could be the end for you or a new beginning for the emperor."

  "If Yamato surrenders today, we will spare the blood of Oda. But if your spirals are used against our homeland, the Emperor will leave nothing but ashes."

  Fitran nodded slowly, but the light in his eyes spoke volumes, "You can burn the land, destroy homes, even kill all who breathe. But one spiral seed can grow anywhere." His steps were slow, as if full of calculation. "There is something you overlook, and it could be poison."

  "You can burn the land, destroy homes, even kill all who breathe. But one spiral seed can grow anywhere—and every seed you overlook will become poison in the heart of your empire. Be careful, sometimes poison from within is far deadlier than a sword from outside."

  The envoy of Qihuang Shin returned home uneasily, their smiles hiding secrets. That night, whispers spread through the enemy camp. "There is something in Yamato that cannot be fought with steel alone," a soldier whispered, his eyes full of curiosity. "What do you think it is?"

  In his chamber, Nobuzan wrote a letter to their baby. He wrote of hopes—for a peaceful world, for a home filled with laughter, for love amidst war. However, the letter lay open on the table. Fitran entered silently, reading its contents. He added one paragraph:

  "Remember, my child. This world is harsh, and love sometimes must be forged by deception. Trust your family, but never be blind to danger. Sometimes, a stranger is your best protector—like your father."

  When the letter was given to Nobuzan the next morning, she read the addition—her heart trembling between relief and dread.

  Fitran leaked false information—a fake patrol schedule and the location of a "secret weapons depot"—to an attendant he knew had contacts with the enemy. That night, Qihuang Shin sent a small group, only to find the depot filled with traps and sleeping gas. Three soldiers were captured alive, two others found dead the next morning.

  Nobuzan heard the news and began to suspect Fitran:

  "How much truth have you sacrificed for victory, Fitran?"

  Fitran embraced her gently, soothing her with a warm voice:

  "I only want to ensure you and our child never know what loss is. Everything I do is just to help you survive one more day."

  The following night, a small battle broke out at the ancestral temple. Flames roared, panic ensued. Amidst the crowd, a sharp whistle pierced through:

  "Who will save us from this fire?" someone shouted. "Fitran, where are you?"

  Fitran's old rival—Takeshi—was trapped under a burning beam. Many thought he would die, but from the shadows, Fitran's voice was heard:

  "Don’t think I will let it end here," Fitran whispered to himself as he stepped toward a secret passage. "He owes me his life."

  Takeshi fainted, and no one knew except Fitran and one guard.

  "The rival saved today could be the most valuable piece tomorrow," Fitran declared, his voice full of mystery, as if making a promise in the darkness.

  The spiral railgun was finally tested in front of the elders and the people. The spiral explosion split the stone, but Fitran deliberately held back the power of his attack. In the dim light, whispers emerged:

  "An extraordinary weapon, but… is this really its limit?" an elder's voice echoed, curiosity burning within.

  Fitran nodded, a faint smile on his face. "Sometimes, holding back greater power is the best strategy," he said, observing their reactions, his heart racing.

  "Are we really safe?" a warrior asked, his eyes searching for certainty. "Or is all this just a game?"

  In his heart, he knew that if a real attack was needed, Yamato still held power that had not been revealed to anyone. "Courage often comes with uncertainty," he added, his voice firm yet mysterious.

  Nobuzan's old friend, Hana, was caught sending a code to the Qihuang Shin forces. Nobuzan was devastated—feeling the world shrink, trust shattered.

  Fitran confronted Hana in the detention room.

  "Don’t you understand? The world outside offers more than just loyalty, Hana," Fitran said, his voice trembling lightly, caught between anger and sadness.

  "I know, Fitran. But… there is something more important to me," Hana replied, her gaze challenging.

  "More important than our trust?" Fitran stepped closer, staring deeply. "Sometimes, the most loyal friends are the easiest to tempt by the promises of the outside world. I won’t kill you, Hana. But you will pay a higher price—you will live, but everyone will know who once chose the enemy."

  In the end, Fitran used Hana's case to "punish" a family rival (a senior attendant who often opposed Nobuzan), while trying to cover his original motive. "This is just a strategic matter. Everyone involved must understand that, right?" he said coldly, as if testing Hana's resilience, "and in this world, there is no place for the weak."