"What? Have Priest Leader Petel dance in the tent to congratulate the king and the generals?"
At the king's words, the great tent instantly fell silent. Bright bonfires flickered inside, lighting the contours of everyone's faces and outlining wildly different expressions.
Avet looked toward Cholula's priest leader with a smile that was not quite a smile. In the eyes of the generals, some showed surprise, some held mockery, some brimmed with pride, and only a very few remained calmly appraising.
"This!"
Hearing this, Priest Leader Petel's eyes flew wide, and anger surged in his heart.
He instinctively gripped the priceless turquoise necklace around his neck, feeling the divine object's warm smoothness as he suppressed his violently churning emotions. He was the leader of the Holy City, and had sat high upon the divine seat for thirty years. All this time, which city-state's god-blooded nobles, which tribe's priestly elders, had not treated him with the utmost respect, not daring to show the slightest neglect?!
"Mm?"
Avet narrowed his eyes, looking at the priest leader before him as he asked coldly and dangerously.
"What, you are unwilling?"
"Ah, this..."
The king's undisguised killing intent swept over him, and Petel trembled all over. He looked around, at the armored Mexica People generals, at those burly figures and fierce, dangerous faces. In this moment, Petel was like a fox alone amid a pack of jaguars; he only felt his hands and feet trembling slightly, a chill running up his spine.
"Honored king of the Mexica People."
Petel pressed his lips together, lowered his head in salute to the king, and his thoughts spun at top speed.
"No. This dance, no matter what, I cannot perform. Once I dance, the name of the Holy City, Cholula, will be utterly ruined!"
The priest leader was frantic