A Long Day, a Scorching Noon

The morning sun rose from the east, lighting the golden sky and the rolling mountain forests. Feather cedars stood tall among the mountains, their green-yellow needles swaying in the wind like the feathers of gods. The morning sun climbed, and leaves flew through the mountain woods. In late autumn, the Sierra Madre Oriental was like the Earth Mother's resplendent feathered robe, dazzling enough to make one's spirit sway.

"This is the most beautiful season, and the finest time for hunting."

Xolotl stood on the high ground, gazing at the northern scenery with a smile. Behind him, Black Wolf's banner streamed high, and not far away lay the surrendered Red Monkey Camp. Below the high ground, thousands of Mexica Warriors wore killing expressions, their armor plates clanging as they surged toward the Red Dog Main Camp.

The king's gaze fell upon the Red Dog camp. He watched carefully for a moment, then pointed.

"Ozoma, the one standing up high, wearing a wolf robe—is that Chichica?"

"It is, honored Great Chief Death God."

Red Monkey Chieftain Ozoma knelt prostrate on the ground, his expression unusually respectful. He was like a follower wolf that had left its pack, now pledging loyalty anew to a new wolf king.

"Ozoma, you actually dare betray me!!"

On the high ground of the Red Dog camp, the old wolf king's eyes were bloodshot. He suppressed a chestful of fury, and also felt a chill that went to the bone. At this moment, in Great Chief Chichica's eyes, there were no forests dyed in layered colors, only all things withering; no splendor of deep autumn, only the coming of bitter winter.

"Great Chief, the Red Monkey Tribe has betrayed us. The Mexica Legion is about to attack up here!"

The personal guard looked panicked and dropped to his