ONE looked up slowly, his face full of pain. He stood up and walked toward Nine.
Then, without a word, he pulled him into a hug.
"Where have you been?" ONE asked his voice laced with concerns and filled with worries. "Nine I'm Sorry, I wasn't strong enough to protect him"
Nine sniffled, he use the cloth wrapped in his arm to wipe off the tears. he break freely from the hug and he slowly walks to his father
He knelt Infront of him again. His hand reached for the knife tied against his waist, the same knife he'd carried since his first rite. He left out an exhale and without a word, he cut across his palm—sharp, clean. Blood welled up immediately.
With quiet reverence, he raised his hand and used the blood to close his father's eyes.
"Farewell," he whispered, voice barely holding. "May the stars carry you home."
Behind him, ONE stood still, watching—his eyes full, his jaw clenched, saying nothing.
Nine turned to him, trying his best to smile, but it faltered before it could fully form.
"Nine," came a voice from behind—familiar.
he turned quickly.
It was TWO.
"May the stars carry his soul," he said softly, stepping forward.
"Two," he breathed.
"Gather the numbers. Get the survivors and lead them to the temple, follow the old Route," Nine instructed, his voice sharp and urgent.
"Women or children?" Two asked.
"Children only," One responded quickly.
In a flash, Two dashed off.
"How long have I been gone?" she asked, as she rise up from the ground. tightening the strap on his wrist guard, his eyes observing.
"Almost an hour," One said, breathless.
Just then, the sound of the bell rang out—deep, loud, and hollow. It came from the high tower of the village. Nine immediately rushed out.
But he was caught off guard.
A man lunged from the shadows, his blade raised. he stumbled, missing his step—then One caught him by the arm, yanking him back up just before he hit the ground.
The intruder didn't wait. He charged again. Nine spun out of One's grip, he drew his bone knives as he held them in both hands, then he slashed low—just enough to cut the intruder thigh. The man screamed. One stepped in, driving his fist into the man's throat. The attacker staggered, gasping, but raised his sword again.
Nine didn't wait, he rushed him and drove his bone knives straight through his chest.
The body crumpled to the ground, twitching once—then still.
They didn't stop to look. They ran forward, knives drawn, joining the others in the thick of the fight. The village was chaotic—steel clashing, bodies dropping, flames licking the sky. Side by side, they fought with swift strikes, moving through the battlefield like shadows.
---
Elsewhere in the village, Two and his team—Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, and Eight—split up to search for the surviving children.
The scene was brutal.
Children wept openly on the ground, some curled beside the still bodies of their parents. Others widely, sobbing, their faces stained with soot and tears. It was the kind of heartbreak that cracked even the strongest heart.
They gathered them as quickly as they could, ushering them out of the burning village.
Now in the woods, under the massive tree with branches wide enough to cast deep shadows, the children huddled together. The thick canopy above shielded them from view.
Eight crouched in front of them, his voice low but firm.
"Shh... you can't cry. What's the first teaching of Salma?"
The children stared at him, eyes glossy with tears.
"If you see a bad man," they whispered, sniffling, "run without tears… only then will you be able to escape death."
Some of them used their sleeves to wipe the mucus trailing from their noses, trying to stay quiet, trying to be brave.
"Yes... yes, that's what we have to do," Eight said gently. "Run without tears. Now, wipe it off."
The children obeyed, their small hands trembling. He gave them a small nod and a forced smile—one that didn't quite reach his eyes—then stood up and glanced around at the rest of her team.
That's when he noticed someone missing.
"Where's Six?" he asked, scanning the woods.
"He went ahead to set the traps," Two said, answering his thoughts like he had read them. "Nine instructed us to head to the temple through the old Route"
Just then, a voice broke through the silence behind them, breathless.
"All set. We just need to lure them into the backwoods now."
They turned—it was Six. His chest heaved with every breath trying to gasp for air, sweat dripping from his jaw.
"Eight, Seven, Three, Two, Four—take the kids to the temple," he said, wiping his face with his forearm. "I'll lead the intruders into the backwoods."
"No. I'm coming with you," Two said, stepping forward.
"No."
"You set the traps and use poisons. How many traps are left to lay?" Two demanded, stepping in front of Six, his hands gesturing as he spoke, tone rising.
"A few more," Six answered , His voice serious, eyes locked on Two.
"I'm the fastest among us. I'll be more used to you than to them," Two argued.
Six looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "Fine. Let's go. No time to waste."
And with that, the group split—Six and Two vanished into the shadows of the backwoods, while Eight, Seven, Three, Four, and the children hurried down the narrow path leading to the temple.
---
Back at the village, Nine and One were getting overwhelmed.
Enemies pressed in from all sides. They fought with everything they had—but the numbers were growing.
Just when it seemed they were done for, a warrior burst into the fight—a village warrior, tall and fierce. He struck the intruder's blade away with a heavy bone knives carved like a log of wood but tipped with bronze spikes. Then he rammed the weapon into the man's gut, forcing him back.
The intruder swung again, but the warrior met it with a bone-breaking smash to the head.
The man dropped instantly.
The warrior stood in front of Nine and One, shielding them.
"Nine, go, save yourselves!" he shouted without looking back.
Nine didn't hesitate. Just As he turned to run, he heard it.
A sharp slice—too fast, too clean.
He froze.
Slowly, he looked back.
His stomach dropped
The warrior's body stood for a moment… then crumpled.
His body hit the ground lifeless with a sickening thud.