In the midst of war and chaos, amidst the hail of, well, less than pleasant things, a lone woman wielding her sacred weapon emerges from the ashes of the battlefield, casting a shadow over the land strewn with lifeless bodies covered in shit.

Well, this stinks...

But there's more to conquer, and a dragon lurks behind the cotton clouds, its form reminiscent of a twisted amalgamation of multiple buttocks fused together in a noxious green haze.

"GRAGGHHH! FOR THE BUTT NATION!!!" The soldiers clad in black armor charge forward, unleashing a barrage of solid waste projectiles toward the mage.

Fielma underestimated them, confident that no excrement could harm her. However...

"OUCH!" The fecal matter struck her with surprising force, feeling as hard as stone. The impact left her with a bruised forehead, blood trickling in a thin stream down her face

The soldiers in black armor keenly observed her reaction to the pain, realizing they had discovered the mage's vulnerability: solid feces. Hope surged within them as they finally glimpsed a means to vanquish the formidable foe.

However, despite their imposing appearance, these soldiers, draped in black armor, were the epitome of frailty. Their choice of armor symbolized their status as the weakest of the weak, and their excrement affirmed their feebleness. In this hierarchy, solid waste was deemed inferior, while the potent liquid variety of shit was revered for its lethality. Yet, the tables were about to turn as the revelation of the mage's susceptibility to solid feces emerged.

Fielma attempted to use her holy weapon, but to her dismay, no excrement emerged. Hastily seeking cover from the impending onslaught of solid feces, she muttered, "I need to reload. Sempai, are you okay?" No response came from Aku. "I repeat, are you okay?"

Turning Aku around, she discovered him unconscious and ashen, resembling a wilted plant. 'He's passed out... Did I push him too far?' she wondered. Without hesitation, she administered another bottle of enema into Aku's mouth before charging back into battle against their adversaries. "Whatever!" she declared as she resumed her merciless onslaught.

"KAYAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAAHA!" she cackled maniacally as she single-handedly decimated the ranks of the butt soldiers.

However, her sense of superiority was short-lived as the soldiers finally mustered the confidence to confront the seemingly invincible foe

"The shit-immune beast is advancing! Everyone, surround her!" the leader of the black-armored soldiers commanded. Alone on the battlefield against a horde of butt soldiers, Fielma possessed strength, but she could be overwhelmed by sheer numbers if the horde was tactically coordinated under skilled leadership. The lower-ranking soldiers understood this, unlike the elite who relied solely on their fecal abilities.

As Fielma charged forward, the butt soldiers on the flanks swiftly maneuvered to encircle her, while those in the center focused on defense. Despite being aware of their flanking tactics, Fielma misinterpreted their intentions. Instead of intending to overpower her with brute force, the soldiers were leading her into a cunning trap, a fact she failed to grasp amidst the chaos of battle.

Fielma desperately squeezed Aku to unleash a torrent of feces, causing significant casualties among the butt soldiers. However, they swiftly retaliated, launching a barrage of solid waste towards the undefended mage. The impact sent her hurtling backward, straight into a trap—a pit filled with excrement.

"What...?" Fielma exclaimed, finding herself submerged in the foul-smelling mire, slowly sinking as it engulfed her lower half. While the butt soldiers might have perished instantly, Fielma, being human, faced a slow and agonizing demise, suffocating beneath the weight of the noxious excrement.

'*I can't believe I will die this way...*' dying under the mass of shit is just horrendous and inhumane.

"I've got the beast's weapon!" exclaimed the soldier who seized Aku and attempted to wield him like a tool. In the absence of goblins in the butt-world, he mistakenly perceived Aku as an actual weapon. However, his efforts to elicit fecal output proved futile. No matter how hard he squeezed, Aku remained unresponsive. "It doesn't poop... How do this even work?"

Fielma couldn't help but chuckle with confidence. "Hehehe... Fool. That is an ancient divine weapon, imbued with power only I can unleash. No matter how hard you try, it will never yield its essence unless wielded by me," she taunted. With a brief laugh, she added, "And anyone besides me who dares to touch it shall be cursed with eternal sterility."

Though her assertion was mere bluff, the butt soldier reacted with immediate dread, dropping Aku in a state of pale shock.

"Oh...? What are you so afraid of? Why be scared of being sterile if you don't even have the balls to touch it. Well, it's no use, you already touched it so the curse is already on you" Fielma stated, the butt soldier started to sweat heavily and paint his plump buttocks' ashen pale.

"She's bluffing, bro. Don't panic," reassured the soldier to his left, but despite the rational voice, the cursed butt soldier began to twitch uncontrollably.

Attempting to approach the soldier beside him, he was met with a warning, "Don't touch me! I'll shit on you." Shifting to his other side, he faced a similar response, "Nu-uh... you don't do that to your comrade," as the cursed soldier was now viewed as a contagious threat, feared for its alleged ability to render others sterile.

"There's only one solution... touch my hand. It will nullify the curse, and your fertility will be restored," urged Fielma, desperate to save herself. Though her deceit seemed transparent, the cursed butt soldier's susceptibility to manipulation suggested they might fall for such an obvious lie.

The cursed soldier took a determined step forward, ignoring the cautionary cries from his comrade.

"Don't stop me!"

"Brother, don't fall for her lies!" the soldier beside him pleaded, but it was clear the cursed soldier had already resolved to act.

"Brother, you need to sacrifice your balls for your country! If you can't accept that then you need to shoot yourself! Don't worry, we will hail you as a national hero. THE NATIONAL NO BALL HERO!"

"NO WAY!!"

The cursed butt soldier rushed towards the sinking Fielma, determined to make contact with her hand. His sole intention was not to save her but simply to touch her hand! However...

"No! SHOOT HIM!" commanded a voice, and suddenly, a projectile of solid feces pierced through the cursed butt soldier. He fell to his knees, drained of energy, but then, against all odds, he rose again, summoning every ounce of strength left in him to continue moving forward. His sole objective: to touch her hand at any cost.

"Impossible..." murmured the surrounding butt soldiers, astonished by his unwavering determination.

"I..." he muttered through gritted teeth as he forced himself to move forward, "I... DON'T!" Then, with a sudden burst of defiance, he shouted, "I DON'T WANT TO BE STERILE!!!"

As his breaths began to falter, his life flashed before his eyes—a kaleidoscope of memories, dreams, and regrets. In that fleeting moment, he glimpsed an effervescent dream, now forever out of reach, as he closed his eyes for the final time.

...

"Micheal, what do you like to eat for dinner? Micheal?"

Michael slowly opened his eyes, finding himself transported back to his childhood home, engrossed in a video game. His mother's voice echoed through the room, accompanied by the tantalizing scent of frying meat—a symphony of sweetness and sourness that filled the air, tempting him beyond measure.

As his stomach rumbled in protest, Michael realized he hadn't eaten anything all day. It was undeniable; he had to eat. There was nothing standing in the way of indulging in this delicious meal.

He desired to rise and finally eat, yet to his surprise, his mouth moved of its own accord and let out a shout.

"Shut up, mom! I'm playing PS7 in my 170 inch flat screen tv, amoled display, with high-speed gpu and quantum processor"

He finally grasped that he wasn't in control of his own body; he was merely reliving the past. Memories flooded back of his former self, holed up with his mother in the basement, a shut-in and self-loathing individual. In that moment, he realized that his last words to his mother were ones of regret, a weight he carried heavily.

"Why is my life so unfair...?" Michael muttered to himself, saving his game and returning to his home screen. His favorite waifu live wallpaper adorned the display, her absurdly cute wide eyes seemingly staring right through him. "I want a wife..." he whispered, fully aware that no real woman would ever look at him with the same adoration as his wallpaper did. For too long, he had blamed society for his circumstances.

Disgusting.

Someone knocked on the door. "Yes, coming!" the mother called out, unaware that this simple act of opening the door would irrevocably alter her and her son's lives.

As she turned the knob and swung the door open, she was confronted by three tall, rough-looking men.

"Good morning, madame. Are you the person called 'mom'?"

"Y-yes... what are the soldiers doing here?"

"I am looking for the person called, the 'son'. What's his name again? No, don't answer. Trashes don't have name"

The mother starts to feel uneasy with their presence and their cold way of talking.

"D-Did he do something wrong? I swear, he is a good kid. He won't do anything bad aside from watching illegal p-"

"Madame, his entire existence is wrong. If you just..." the soldier sigh deeply, he closed his eyes readying to slap the mother with a harsh piece of truth... "If you just persuaded your husband to wear condoms."

The mother gasped, her wide-open mouth covered in disbelief by trembling hands as she heard the soldier's accusation. But the soldier was relentless, driven by merciless fury. With a punch to the wall borne of pure hatred, he bellowed at the mother, "If you had only attended family planning seminars and taken sexual education courses, this wouldn't have happened!"

The truth cut deep into the mother's heart. She couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. Her ears rang with deafening silence as her mind spiraled into an abyss of despair. Something welled up inside her stomach... was it blood? No, it was the suppressed torrent of negative emotions, finally breaking free after years of silent suffering.

Tears streamed down the mother's face, her sobs echoing in the room. "Uhuhuhu... M-Michael... somebody, somebody is looking for you uhuhuhu."

"I'll get him myself. You birthed such a disgusting creature madame, shame on you."

The cruel and sadistic soldiers left the shattered mother behind, her mind reeling from their merciless accusations.

As they reached the door to the basement, they didn't bother knocking. Instead, they kicked the door open, knowing Michael would never willingly let them in. "Are you winning, son?" they quipped, already accustomed to dealing with his type in this manner.

"W-what? Who are you? What do you need!?"

Michael was forcibly taken into military custody. There, he was molded into a tool for society, the very society he harbored resentment towards. Forced to toil relentlessly for his country, enduring the scorn of his superiors and pushing his body to its limits, he endured true hell during those years of detainment.

He longed to return home and reconcile with his heartbroken mother, regretting the absence of a proper goodbye when he was taken away. Enduring for more years, he clung to the hope of one day making amends, until finally, that day arrived—freedom was within his grasp.

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Excitedly breaking free from his confines, he purchased a train ticket and embarked on the journey homeward, his heart filled with anticipation. In his mind's eye, he pictured his mother, alone and sorrowful, yearning for his return. He was determined to ease her pain.

However, upon his return, a wave of shock washed over him as he beheld the sight before him—his house lay in ruins, reduced to rubble.

Desperate for answers, he turned to his neighbors for information. They revealed that his mother, upon his abrupt departure, had swiftly relocated. Speculation arose that she had perhaps set out to find him. Yet, further inquiry uncovered a startling truth.

His mother... she had transformed into a successful businesswoman, amassing a fortune that allowed her to purchase a new mansion, demolishing their old home in the process.

Michael embarked on a quest to find his mother, grappling with conflicting emotions. If the rumors were true and she had become wealthy, why hadn't she come for him? And what had become of his beloved PS7 and flat-screen TV?

After weeks of searching, he finally located his mother's opulent mansion. Yet, standing before the imposing entrance, he couldn't bring himself to ring the doorbell and confront her. Uncertainty gripped him; he didn't know what to say or how to express himself. Still, the unanswered question lingered: why hadn't his mother come for him? Had she finally chosen to let him go?

After hours of hesitating, he finally summoned the courage to press the doorbell. As the gates creaked open, he prepared himself for the sight of guards or maids, not his mother. However, to his surprise, it was indeed his mother who greeted him.

"Yes, who is it?" she inquired.

'She doesn't remember me? It's only been three years,' he thought, feeling a pang of disappointment. It seemed his mother didn't recognize him at all. Perhaps his transformation from a overweight, socially awkward man to a slim, muscular figure during his time away had rendered him unrecognizable. Despite the initial shock, he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him.

His neighbor's claims had been proven false; his mother hadn't become a billionaire. Instead, she stood before him dressed in a disheveled maid uniform, a clear indication of her humble position within the mansion. Despite her age, she retained an innocent and diminutive appearance.

Micheal smiled as he planned to take his mother's hand and ask her to return home with him. Despite their house being destroyed, he knew his true home was with her. Being together with her was all he needed to feel at home, his warmest place.

"Honey, who is it?" suddenly, a good looking man appeared on his mother's back and look at him. The man grabbed his mother's small breast and rub his filthy hand through her clothes. Unexpectedly, he recognize the good looking man's face... It was the soldier who dragged him in hell.

"S-Stop ❤ Not in front of a stranger ❤"

"You really are perverted, huh? Wearing that cute maid uniform."

"I-It's because you said that you love it❤"

The man pulled his mother in and shut the gate, ignoring Micheal, whose heart was already saddened by the revelation. But what the man said next, from behind the gates, shattered his heart and soul into tiny pieces.

"Let's play Smash on my PS8."

Michael's world crumbled in that moment. He felt a part of himself die inside.

Did Micheal cannot accept that his balls are no more because of the trauma he had in the past? He cannot let go of his balls because it reminds him of his mother letting go of him?

No.

Because the soldier's name is Jack, not Michael. Michael is merely a character from a TV drama that Jack happens to be watching. Jack doesn't even understand why the show flashes before his eyes in his final moments.

As Jack returned to reality, he found himself lying motionless on the floor. Soon after, an arm grabbed him and dragged him into the pit of feces while the mage broke free from her trap. Jack met his end instantly upon contact with the filth.

"Thank you very much, random soldier!" Fielma waved goodbye.

"D-Don't let her get the weapon! Take it!" one of the black armored soldier shouted,

"No, you take it!"

"You take it!"

No one dared to even come into proximity with Aku, fearing the same fate as the unfortunate butt soldier before them—sterility, a cruel destiny. Despite this, one soldier summoned the courage to extend his hand toward the weapon, prepared to sacrifice his reproductive organs for the sake of his country. However, before he could make contact, a piece of feces struck him squarely on his right cheek, causing him to collapse to the ground, motionless.

Confusion swept through the ranks of the black-armored soldiers. Who had launched that attack? The mystery deepened as another soldier was targeted by an unseen assailant, struck once again by a mysterious piece of feces from seemingly nowhere.

"Man, they're here! Retreat! Retreat!" screamed a butt soldier to his allies.

"You won't get away, idiot!" exclaimed a butt person with long twin tails of yellow hair, appearing on the back of the screaming soldier and instantly killing him with a point-blank shot of feces. As one of the soldiers retaliated, the agile twin-tailed small butt person effortlessly evaded his attack and countered with a deadly shot of her own. She moved with such flexibility and speed that no fecal projectile could touch her.

One by one, black-armored soldiers fell around Fielma, slain by the mysterious figures. Alongside the twin-tailed butt person, more enigmatic figures emerged: a huge, obese butt person with explosive flatulence that killed anyone in his proximity, a slim butt person wielding dual blades crafted from feces, and a tall butt person concealed behind rocks, pooping.

"Who are they...?" Fielma questioned.

A black-armored soldier stumbled near her, gasping for breath. "GAGGH!! They're the loyal followers of the Holy Shit! They're the notorious group known as the Shit Off!" he cried out before being silenced by a mysterious fecal projectile that covered his face in a cloud of noxious stench.

"Well, isn't that convenient..." Fielma remarked, finding it oddly convenient that an enemy would answer her question in the midst of a fierce battle, with no apparent reason but for plot progression.

Meanwhile, the yellow twin-tailed girl, who had been swiftly dispatching soldiers moments before, paused to admire the chaos as the remaining soldiers fled in terror. "AHEHEHE! Rrhea, look at them run like little pigs! Oink, Oink," she giggled, reveling in the fear she had instilled.

However, the running soldiers are taken out one by one by a mysterious shooter. That mysterious shooter is a girl of similar stature of the twin tail girl, however, with long single pony tail and holding a pipe artifact that enhances the speed and distance of her shit.

The pony tail girl descended beside the twin tail girl, "Seriously, Dia? They are not pigs, they are ants" pointing out how they easily crushed them with their small fingers like nothing.

One black armored soldier behind them sneakily attacked them from behind, however, the two kids immediately reacted and evaded then shoots out shit from their face hitting the legs of the soldier making him kneel.

"GAHH! How can kids be this powerful!?" exclaimed the startled soldier.

The energetic butt girl, Dia, responded firmly, "We're not kids. I am Dia."

"I am Rrhea," added the other girl, her voice cold and analytical.

"Together we are Diarrhea, yay~!" they chimed in unison, clasping each other's hands and smiling. Dia excelled as a short-range shooter, wielding fecal power akin to a shotgun, while Rrhea was a sniper, capable of launching attacks over great distances. Together, they formed one of the strongest duos in the entire butt world.

On the other side of the battlefield, a mysterious figure swiftly eliminated everyone with his dual blades made of feces. Though the blades didn't physically cut anyone, they left a deadly mark, coating their necks with feces and swiftly dispatching them.

"..."

The man remained silent, his quiet demeanor making him unpredictable and difficult to detect. Many fell victim to his attacks without even realizing what had happened.

"Silent Fart, say something! It's time to look badass for the audience by announcing our names while we kill a bunch of mobs!" shouted the other man, who was defecating on the ground nearby.

The silent man's name was Silent Fart, a fitting moniker for someone whose presence was silent but deadly, much like a fart without sound. He embodied the terror that gripped a group trapped in an enclosed space, suddenly overwhelmed by a malevolent force, with no one willing to claim responsibility. The Enigmatic Silent Fart.

"Dog Shit, give up on trying to make him talk," commanded the largest man in the group, known as Big Bang.

"Huh? You're just going to let this slide, Big Bang?" retorted Dog Shit. Despite what's he's doing, Dog Shit was actually setting traps. His traps were lethal; once triggered or stepped upon, they would inflict excruciating pain and instant death. No footwear could save them when they stepped into Dog Shit.

"Of course not. Silence is indeed badass and deadly but..." countered Big Bang. Unlike Silent Fart, Big Bang was the polar opposite; his flatulence exploded with thunderous sound, filling the entire area with a deadly gas. "Loud bang is still better." Farting loudly as if boasting is the way of an Alpha Male.

"Run!" cried the remaining soldiers, desperately trying to flee for their lives. But Dog Shit had other plans.

"You're not getting away," he declared, and suddenly, one by one, the fleeing butt soldiers dropped like flies as they unsuspectingly stepped into his carefully laid traps hidden on the ground. Dog Shit's analytical thinking had led him to predict that in their panic, the soldiers would overlook his traps—and he was proven right. Every enemy soldier met their demise by stepping into his random shit.

Dog Shit looked at the mage with curious eyes, wondering why she wasn't running away with the others. "Oh... you're not one of them, are you?" he guessed, noticing her distinct and unconventional appearance. Rrhea approached Dog Shit and whispered something to him, revealing that the mage had been eliminating soldiers before their arrival.

"Are you a friend because you're killing our enemies, or are you killing our enemies because you're a friend?" Dog Shit inquired.

Upon hearing this, Fielma smirked. "Nah, I'd win."

"Ha?"

...

Since the Shit Off showed no aggression towards Fielma and she didn't sense any malicious intent, only wariness, she decided to peacefully accompany them. Making enemies out of the Shit Off would be a mistake, especially since she was already exhausted and her holy weapon, Aku, wasn't functioning correctly.

She was led towards a lavish temple constructed entirely of gold. Upon entering, she was greeted by various ornaments and decorations that were unfamiliar to her world. Butt-necklaces, butt-rings, and even butt-masks adorned the space, alongside large, sturdy butt-statues. The surrounding houses of the temple were shaped like plump buttocks, and even the tiles boasted intricate embedded drawings of buttocks.

As they ascended to the inner sanctum of the temple, Fielma came face to face with the most powerful individual among the butt people in the current faction.

"We've brought them, my lady," Dog Shit kneeled before the presence of the butt-person, and now knowing what to do, Fielma followed suit. Aku, on the other hand, was carried by Dog Shit and now lay on the floor, still unconscious. The superior figure sat upon a grand golden throne, being fanned by a petite butt-woman. Standing on her far right side was a portly butt man with his hands clasped behind his back.

"So... they are the ones who thinned out the numbers of my sister's army?" the superior spoke in a calm and elegant demeanor, befitting her position. Fielma couldn't discern her expression since her face was a butt, but from her voice, the mage guessed that she was fairly young.

"Yes, my lady."

"Good work."

"My pleasure" Dog Shit said before walking away, bowing his head in respect. Once Dog Shit disappeared from view, the superior figure turned her attention to the mage.

I assume you're not from this world, are you? Tell me, did you emerge from the crack?" she inquired.

"Um... Who are you?" Fielma couldn't help but scratch her chin, feeling uncertain about the situation and what might happen to her next not knowing who's she's actually talking to.

"Rudeness! I can't believe that someone in this entire anal-sex world wouldn't know about the lady! She's none other than the Holy Shit! The Divine Maiden of the Butt World!" the fat butt-man shouted indignantly.

"Silence"

"I apologize... my lady"

'*Holy... Shit? Holy... Hmm...?*' Fielma pinched her chin, trying to decipher what was bothering her mind. She glanced back at the Holy Shit, hoping to confirm her suspicions. However, when she looked at her, only one thought came to mind—divinity.

"Holy shit... I just realized something. Sempai, wake up, I've found it," the mage exclaimed, shaking the goblin to rouse him and share her revelation—that they had found the fragment of Magroth.

"Would you care to answer my questions, my esteemed guest?" the Holy Shit inquired.

"Y-yes... I'm not from this world. And yes, we came through the rift."

"I knew it, there is life beyond the portal. My stupid sister won't even listen to me; that's why this war is happening," the Holy Shit muttered, clenching her hand into a fist. "I've heard rumors... that you are immortal and can't be killed by shit?" The mage quickly nodded in agreement. "What a terrifying ability."

For the Holy Shit, the otherworlders who came from the rift were of a higher existence, which was why they couldn't be killed by any kind of excrement, no matter what. But she couldn't let them know that she was of a lower existence compared to them. She had to hold herself together and maintain her dignity as someone in control of a life of many.

Furthermore, the Holy Shit believed that the otherworlders were somehow related to their God. According to their religious beliefs, the crack served as a gateway to the world where their God lay in deep slumber. Existing in the same realm as their God suggested that they could be either his angels or his demons. However, upon observing them closely, the Holy Shit couldn't identify them as either. She couldn't sense their God's divinity emanating from them, nor could she detect the repelling scent of his enemies.

"May I ask a question? Why are you asking me about the rift?" Fielma raised her hand, asking.

"It's the main reason why this war has persisted," the Holy Shit explained, frustration evident in her voice. "You see, we have a God, and that God instructed us to come to him through the crack in space." She slammed her hand onto her armrest in anger. "But my foolish sister refuses to listen. She claims that my God is the devil and that they are deceiving us to feed on our souls! Unforgivable! And so, this war began out of respect for our God. I am willing to sacrifice and kill my sister for my GOD."

"Urgh..." Aku finally woke up, rubbing his eyes from being asleep.

Fielma breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing him. "Sempai... what do you think?"

"Wait... I still feel a little dizzy," Aku said, holding his forehead in pain. Despite his discomfort, he had been listening intently to their conversation from the beginning. The Holy Shit's declaration that she would sacrifice her sister to a God piqued his interest. "She has the fragment of Magroth, doesn't she? That's why she exudes such overwhelming charisma and a sense of divinity," Aku speculated, eyeing the Holy Shit, sensing a deceptive aura of divinity emanating from her.

"Is it possible that Magroth is influencing her through the fragment?"

"Yeah... probably. Magroth is attempting to gather followers to break free from his seal either consuming them and absorbing their mana or by forming troops to destroy the temple from within."

"I feel bad for the Holy Shit. She have this overwhelming faith in her own god who just want to use her."

"Her feeling of faith might just be fabricated by the fragment itself. Since she is the one closest to it, Magroth might have a direct influence over her mind. More than that, what the fuck did you do to my body!? BWOUUGHH!!!" suddenly Aku puke, but it's of no ordinary puke but shit.

"Whoa... are you... Why is your feces coming out of your mouth?"

"I DON'T KNOW! TELL ME! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME!?"

"Sempai... do you think the Holy Shit is staring at you?"

Their banter abruptly halted when Fielma pointed it out. A shiver ran down Aku's spine at her mention. Even without looking, he could feel her intense gaze upon him, causing him to gulp nervously. He turned towards the Holy Shit to meet her gaze.

"Is she really looking at me? I can't tell," Aku laughed nervously, attempting to feign ignorance.

"She's... blushing?" Fielma exclaimed in shock.

"Huh? Why?" Aku questioned.

"She's coming closer..."

"Eh..."

The Holy Shit rose from her seat and began to descend the stairs toward them. As she neared Aku, she knelt and took his hand. "Ahh... My prince... No, MY LOVE! Are you the one who will save me from this distress?"

Fielma finally understood the situation and could only mutter, "Ah... It's love at first shit..."