The bright moon rose from the eastern sea, lighting the vast bay. The lowlands' plentiful rivers came down from the jungles upstream to the southwest and gathered here, forming a coastal lagoon stretching east to west, more than a hundred li long. Where the lagoon met the bay was a broad sea mouth, and beside it stood a low Totonac fishing village that relied on the lagoon's rich catches to support a small tribe of over a hundred people.
This was White Sand Village, more than a hundred li northeast of the Coyote Tribe, at the lower-river sea mouth beyond Coyote City. At this moment, thirty-odd Totonac canoes were hidden at the fishing village's harbor. They looked unremarkable, yet clearly exceeded the scale of the tribe. Looking out from the sea mouth, around the silted lagoon spread broad, impassable marshes and towering mangroves, almost completely concealing every trace of the village.
With such complicated terrain, without a local guide who knew the land, reaching this place overland would be extremely difficult. And even if enemies attacked, the time it took them to trudge through the marsh would be enough for the tribe's canoes to flee. In other words, even under the spearhead of the Mexica People, even before the legion scouts spreading everywhere, this was a very safe hiding place.
The night was bright, moonlight drifting over the lake's surface. A small boat came silently and swiftly from the southern upstream, shattering the moon in the lake into starlight. Soon, the boat drew up among the reeds on the bank. Three tribal warriors leapt ashore with practiced ease; two dragged the boat away to hide it, while the man in the lead hurried straight toward the largest thatched hut in the village.
Moonlight flowed like water, brushing over the quiet