Counterattack

"Amoxi, have the Cactus Warriors caught up?"

The Red Dog Chieftain stood on the hill and asked in a cold voice. His eyes were flushed red, his face full of vicious killing intent, yet he suppressed it and kept calm. Behind him were hundreds of Red-hair Hunters who followed him, and a fluttering red dog banner.

"Great Chieftain, over this day and more, we've already force-marched fifty or sixty li, all of it along hard mountain roads. The Cactus Warriors haven't caught up. They're still at least more than ten li away."

Amoxi stood behind Chichica, likewise gazing south. What met his eyes was a scene of rout. On the narrow mountain path, the Dog-kin of the various tribes wore crude clothing and carried incomplete weapons, all mixed together in a disorderly mass. Thousands of tribal warriors looked panicked, fleeing in a chaotic rush toward the old camp in the north, and their speed was not slow at all.

The rapid march kicked up dust that filled the sky, startling flocks of birds from the mountain forests. Vultures and crows wheeled and flew overhead, letting out ominous caws from time to time. Farther away, the banners of the Mexica People could be seen in the distance. Great masses of gray-blue and dark-green figures shifted among the mountains on the horizon, like crawling giant serpents, greedily devouring every tribe member who fell behind.

"What's going on with the enemies over there?"

Chichica stood for a moment, then stretched out his hand and pointed to the far south. The Dog-kin tribes on the mountain road stretched for several li, and before they had run steadily for long, the very rear at the southern end suddenly burst into clamor. Several small rearguard squads had once again begun fighting.

Amoxi narrowed his eyes, watched