The east had not yet brightened, and the night was deep. In the Mexica camp, figures swayed and fled, weapons swinging and clashing. Every so often, someone screamed and fell, turning into a silent corpse. Blood sprayed wantonly, making even the air sweet and rank. Blazing bonfires flickered, shining on armored warriors; inherited banners hung torn and ragged, stirring chaotic cries!
The night raid had come without warning, throwing the entire camp into a tangled melee. In slaughter carried out in darkness, what mattered was no longer numbers, but organization and tenacity. The city-state militia could not see at night; all of them fled in terror, collapsing in panic. The Mexica Warriors of different clans scattered into their own clusters, guarding their inherited noble banners as they hacked wildly beneath the night moon. And the largest, fiercest battle group lay toward the rear of the camp's center, where the army's commander-in-chief was positioned.
The tall Sour Wood banner snapped fiercely in the darkness. Elite Tree Snake Warriors and Sour Wood Warriors shouted the same words as they fought in brutal close quarters. The warriors' cries boiled like springwater, and their bodies, too, sprayed a glaring scarlet like springwater. And just at this moment of chaotic battle, a wretched streak of lightning suddenly came hurtling in, shooting toward the Sour Wood clan chief, who held his scepter high and shouted harshly, striking him square in the chest!
"Clang!"
A sharp metallic collision rang out violently in an instant, making everyone shudder!
Pain shot through Jotico's chest, and his expression changed abruptly. The force of this arrow was so great! He staggered back two steps, then sat down on the ground with a clatter, even his spine aching from the impact.
"Whoosh!"
"Ah!"
Another arrow came whistling through the air, grazing Jotico's