Unbroken banks of layered cloud rolled and unfurled as drizzling rain fell. Warm, moist air rose from the distant Caribbean Sea and swept west in a mighty tide, reaching the Mexico Plateau two thousand meters above sea level. The eastern sea wind met the dry, cold mountain wind, opening the plateau's long rainy season, turning into showers that fell from the heavens and scattered like stars onto the king's great tent.
At this time, the rainy season had only just arrived, a little over a month ago, and had not yet reached its heaviest downpours. The king's great tent was coated with a layer of rubber and was not soaked by the rain. Gusts blew down from the crown of the tent, shaking the two men's feathered headdresses and bringing the heat and dampness of early summer.
Avet looked at the rainy sky, tear tracks still lingering at the corners of his eyes, yet he had already stepped out of grief. A king's heart was indeed hard to fathom, and it likewise would not be easily shaken. At this moment, what filled his breast was the wild ambition to conquer all under heaven; what burned in his heart was blazing fighting spirit; and what shone in his eyes was killing intent as cold as ice!
After a long while, the king furrowed his brows, stared at the rainwater streaming between the tent curtains, and spoke in a low, heavy voice.
"Gilim, the great rains of the seventh month are coming. There are not many days left when we can storm cities!"
Hearing this, Gilim's expression turned solemn, and his heart chilled. He was familiar with the climate of the Tlaxcala Basin, so he naturally understood what the king had left unsaid.
The Tlaxcala Basin bordered the Lake Texcoco region, and