Minor sparks crackled from the pyromancers' staffs, then rose into towering waves of inferno that delivered shockwaves to incoming monstrosities, all the while jerking their hands rearward. The gigantic flaming ramparts, even visible from the cliffs of Otnagochi. And they fulfilled their duty, breaking the ranks of mujinos into manageable packs. It was their long-standing strategy that each faction made use of one section as their hunting ground.

They reckoned it would be just like the waves of yore, perhaps even simpler, thanks to the help of automatons and deterrent potions. However, when imbibers and abstainers mixed formation, all hell broke loose, with Binxtrunachs and Zaloses weaving and dodging in the chaos. Confusion took hold when they believed a bald mutt was about to maul a soldier up front, only to slyly slip past his crotch and lash tentacles to an ill-prepared comrade behind him. Those overlooked shared no less ease; the mujinos were still creatures of prey, and their sinews and tendons paid no more heed to dead trees or potion drinkers that held no greater importance than the preys themselves. Their bodies were already too slippery as an eel—impossible to catch by hand or rifle.

Fortunately, adaptation defined true warriors. Counterattacks unfolded in orchestrated batches. Waves of spells kept on raining down. This held particularly true for Wisesa, who proved to be a real crowd-puller for most mujinos. Especially when he kept hopping about and created massive damage to them and wreaking havoc on them and the ground beneath. Packs of Binxtrunachs found their entrails torn apart by the shining duo upon leaping over the fire blockades.

"Why, in the midst of these walls of fire, do they now conjure fog over there?" Barong commented.

Wisesa's eyes confirmed that as he saw the misty field created by Kagatsean shinobis and the flashes of silhouettes that travelled across it. Almost without sounds. They were silent hunters, after all.

"Let's try to get into that mist," the lad said.

"Come now, there's no challenge there! Just stay here, carving ravines like always!"

"Your strategy has always been rending, rock hurling, and ravine making! You're so boring for a god!"

"You're the stupid one!" Barong shot. "You desire miracles yet lack the courage to wield half my power—"

"I'm not a coward, you son of a bitch—whatever! Suit yourself, I'm going in anyway!"

Wisesa wandered through the veiled realm of mist and witnessed how the shinobi did their utmost to keep their hands clean when dealing with foes. Just as Binxtrunachs suddenly gorged on each other—a discord-sowing ruse by the ninshu artists or their yokai summons. Mass panic erupted among the other mujinos as they fell into a frenzy, unknowingly stepping on mud-coated triggers that summoned a web of fine threads that instantly minced their bodies to the finest of filaments. Or when a carpet of paper scattered among them before their white surfaces set off a ring of fire that burst into an explosion. The fog itself tempered their senses.

Once he had had his fill of frolicking in the misty land, he went out to discover a fresh hunting ground, this time catering to samurais, automatons, or practitioners who favoured the blatant. Oh, they indeed had their own field for casting grandiose spells. Barong finally caught up and together they soared with two Binxtrunach each in their hands, then catapulted them into the area.

There the lad's gaze fell upon Henge, the Magisterium Shogun's adjutant, assuming the role of a meticulous surgeon—or a line cook—wielding a mere pair of knives to craft precise cuts upon the hounds. To make matters stranger, the Binxtrunachs and Zaloses seized the opportunity to encircle him en masse and they were spirited away for their trouble. All the while Henge kept a tight lid on one eye. Eerie yet human-like screams trailed from another direction—Taro hurled explosives at the mujinos that fell out of nowhere like duck hunting. A contingent of armed qilin, giant frogs and primates added to the war's exhilaration as Kagatsean champion beasts against otherworldly counterparts.

Tamoanchanese practitioners, it seemed, enjoyed the privilege of having their own hunting grounds too, Wisesa surmised. Most of the Tlemauayolotli practitioners were followers of the path of deeds—and to everyone's horror, most of them were plastered on agave—as a result, they tended to fight with reckless abandon, and their fire was raw energy that discriminated none. Lest they blew up the town, they really needed the space broader to let loose their unbridled firepower.

"Yes! Yes! Come to me!" it was a shrill cry from Izel. Her war cry. The blood inside her veins was already boiling. Her adrenaline surged. But she was not drunk. She had contrived this kind of situation on purpose—letting the monsters rush towards her while the firewall at her back served as a stalemate. That was what always made her passions rise, especially when this was made as a testament to the sun above.

"Citlalicoatl, look at me, suffering from a thirst for you while others neglect you!" With a sweeping motion, Izel launched the first attack with fiery serpents from her hands. She leapt, triggering an explosion from the ground that laid bare the mujino's entrails. She did not even fear strangling a Bixturnach's neck with her bare hands, making its skin burn, sizzle, and unleash flames erupting from its head in two bursts. A pair of sweet eyes for a Binxtrunach that it, unfortunately, could not relish.

"Behold me, I use your fire to eradicate the world's pests!" Just as Zalos's corrosive slime poised to assail Izel's countenance, her slab necklace parted and unfurled into flaps that draped over the front. With her breath bubbling up in her belly, Izel belched out a torrent of retaliatory flames! Her necklace managed to keep the blazing torrent concentrated like a jet instead of spiraling out into uncontrollable hellfire. Zaloses and Binxtrunachs lined up to become dust. The girl was not too kind to even leave the nearby watching trees standing.

"Therefore! Attend to me! See me as worthy in your eyes, o Citlalicoatl! Worthy of your eyes!" Izel roared it all at the sun above, unaware that a pair of Binxtrunachs had invaded her reflex zone and their teeth were embedded in her arm, tentacles entangling her neck and another hand. Howls of delight echoed through the rest of the pack, closing in with bared teeth eager to dismember her and bring it to the lair for a grand supper.

"Accursed beasts! None shall claim my life before my eyes see Citlalicoatl's eyes!" Izel defiantly snarl. Her blistered form and aglow veins proved impervious to the hounds' tentacles. So, Izel rocketed skywards with two Binxtrunachs, passing through the battle of the zeppelins and Gothhotroo, all the way to the fourth layer of the sky, and then swooped back down at blazing speed to have their skin scrapped against the air as ignition. Izel crashed to the ground, leaving only a pair of teeth still stuck in her arm.

"Look at me, Citlalicoatl! Isn't this enough? Who among mortals possesses the fortitude for such deeds? Who has the heart to do this? The heart to resurrect my country, your beloved people?" Izel raised her staff aloft. "Me! I alone care! Render me worthy! Xu-tēmōztli! Xu-te-ōllin! Xu-te-kōpā!"

At first, luminous sparks pirouetted around the staff's tip, and within a blink, turned into a massive, whirling fireball! The hot gale it brought stopped the frenzied advance of hundreds of mujinos cold. Along with the caster's shout, the giant fireball gradually shrank, fragmenting into smaller spheres of fire that zoomed towards each monster with pinpoint precision! And that incendiary sphere did not merely scorch; they exploded. Especially for the Zaloses, vaporising into nothingness.

But amid that isolated battle, the mocking laughter proved more grating to the ears than the anguished screams of warriors and monsters combined. "Such a base creature, Izel!" derided an individual who pierced through the wall of fire with an air of nonchalance.

Izel gritted her teeth. And she hated herself for ever dragging her feet without consent. "What do you want, Momozcotzin?"

"Nothing!" Momozcotzin replied. "I merely tire of your incessant invocation of Citlalicoatl's since our initial foray into battle. You're a source of shame, Woman! We look like a collection of tacky mongrels in the eyes of the Kagatseans, as debased as the Rikaiha fanatics! Look up! Is the sun moved by your plea? It seems that even Citlalicoatl is as ashamed!"

Izel could smell the reek of alcohol from his foul mouth. In battle, Momozcotzin's inebriety did not sway him; fused with the battle's heat all around, a Tamoanchanese drunkard like him appeared as the embodiment of fire and war. One a sober could not rein in and had no choice but to wait for their own quench. By then, the realm would be left with cinders and coals.

"If you can waste time ranting in times of war, then you should use your time wisely to finish it!" the Orange Witch retorted.

"I have all the time in the world!" Momotcotzin's form was still partially in the flames, but he crouched down instead. He caught a running Binxtrunach with one hand, then gripped it firmly while muttering. The creature transmuted into molten lava, from its neck spreading all over the body. "All thanks to the potion from the Magisterium. I can just enclose the mujinos in a firewall and freely melt them one by one! And then, look at you! Still ignorant and weak. You allowed them to ensnare your arm, despite rigorous training that has left your body teetering on the brink of demise. Much like when I ensnared your arm...."

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Izel's trembling visage was a mosaic of trepidation and ire. As much as she longed to batter that bastard, the relentless onslaught of hounds and slimes remained ignorant of their vendetta. Her arms constantly propelled, delivering bursts of fire to the tensile tension in her muscles. She did not stop. It was the only distraction she had.

"Insult to your heart's content. But my ears are bereft of the luxury to lend heed to your every utterance," the girl concluded.

A grunted response escaped Momozcotzin's lips. His spittle evaporated upon the ground before he could retort, "Oh, how I despise those who feign strength, much as Citlalicoatl loathes tricksters. I shall instruct you in the ways of true strength, Woman. But I doubt you'll be able to make it out alive." Staff in hand, Momotcotzin muttered, "Xu-tēmōx! Xu-tlaxu! Xu-tepēh!"

The blockade route behind Momozcotzin changed. The old wave of fire disappeared, while the new one instead fenced off the entire battlefield. At the same time, the wave of fire made by Izel through which man had traversed disappeared. Vast legions of Zaloses and Binxtrunachs ebbed towards her, and her bulging eyes said this was more than she could handle.

"Are you out of your mind? Why are you turning the entire mujinos towards me?"

"I'm doing you a favour so you can face Citlalicoatl!" A loud laugh of derision from Momozcotzin. "Should you flee, your worthiness in the eyes of the Star Serpent falters!"

Izel had reckoned the giant man was aiding her to face Citlalicoatl in the realm beyond. She conjured yet another firewall, but how the Divine had cursed her; The majority of the canines and animate slimes breached the barrier with not a single blister.

Izel was taken aback. The monsters were equally astonished. The once-dreaded wall of fire lost its intimidation factor. Inevitably, the witch's staff underwent a metamorphosis into an obsidian machete, and she cleaved through the oncoming Binxtrunachs and Zaloses on the fly. It was during this frantic engagement that she discerned a faint reddish energy enveloping the creatures' bodies. Fire-protection spell?

"Damn whoreson!" she cursed. Followed by another curse in her mother tongue. As she attempted to launch into the sky, the acidic liquid swiftly corroded the skin and flesh on her left leg. The burst of energy faltered, and Izel was propelled backwards.

And the mujinos surged around her in a relentless swarm.

In a desperate bid for survival, Izel quickly summoned a Giant Fire Snake Head to swallow her. She felt like she was entrapped in a constricted sauna; the view behind the serpentine bulwark would have been transparent if not for the vapourous emission coming from Binxtrunachs' saliva and Zaloses' acidic spits.

The excruciating sting in Izel's leg also exuded a wisp of fumes. Izel nearly teared up, gasping for breath, as she tried to turn her leg over in an attempt to inspect the gash. Even in a pool of blood, she could tell that the flesh on her leg was undermined. With her gaze turned upwards and whimpers bouncing off the protective magic, she attempted to rummage through the bag. A favoured bottle of pink flame beckoned. Yet, before she could unseal the bottle, the tumult of mujino screams outside reached her ears.

Momozcotzin arrived, his mutterings a macabre melody. Successively, the layers veiling the mujinos dissipated. The menacing growls turned into startled yelps by the hissing on their bodies stumbling upon the Serpent Head.

"Knock knock!" uttered Momozcotzin, rapping on an unseen door in tandem with his words. "You are still alive! Citlalicoatl be praised! You are indeed hard to die. Unfortunately, you ran away!"

"You tread on the dead's path, Momozcotzin!" Izel pounded against the mana surface. "I'll put your limbs in the cauldron as a meal for the watching sun!"

"Why such vitriol? We often engage in these jests during competitions!"

"We are at war!"

"So what?"

"You're risking everyone's life, you fat retard!"

"Two people with their personal affairs don't bring much significance to the war. Just like the thousands of others who have already died. They are no different. Our situation is no different as the future champions of Citlalicoatl, Izel. Forged to live as if forever in the age of war. This is what bestows peace upon Tamoanchan. Behind the tranquillity of its people lies the vigilant champion, one who seldom rests their eyes."

"Enough chatter! Why resurrect this topic when you and the others have forsaken the search for the Citlalicoatl's Champion? None but me cares!"

"The reason is simple, Izel. Because the one who raises it is the sole individual unworthy of such concern. You could have trodden another path and found happiness than this. But you chose not to. This is the nature of those who thirst for power. All they chase is the false glory in their heads that they can't achieve with their own hands!"

Upon hearing those words, Izel's face tensed, her mouth agape. "I'm harmless, Momozcotzin! I'm harmless because what I did was the work of delusions. But it wasn't. Deep down you still believe I'll obtain it, even by the most absurd means." With that, a stifled laugh escaped her mouth. "You're afraid because you shall attain neither 'Worthiness in Citlalicoatl's Eyes' nor 'me'. You are indeed cinder dust reeking of rot. If indeed I am unworthy in Citlalicoatl's eyes, he sure as day shall care not for those lesser than me!”

Those words drew furrowed brows and chattering teeth from the other side. Momozcotzin pressed his wide-open palm against Izel's shield. Hostile yellow luminescence began to spread across the scaly lines on the surface. "I will get you out of here, and after that, I will teach you once more, that you may understand."

Izel promptly poured the pink flames onto her body, but the Serpent Head's armour was extinguished within seconds, and Momotcotzin quickly toted the Witch by her shoulders. And his grips seemed to dim the tongues of healing fire.

"Xu-te-kōpā! Xu-te-kwahca! Xu-tlāxīloti!" the big man exclaimed.

No monster could live to get as close as two metres to Izel without being devoured by waves of fire circles in two-second intervals.

"M-Momozcotzin! Let me go! My leg!" pleaded Izel, panting. Her drooping legs, especially the one exposed to the acidic liquid, felt as if they would be torn asunder by the whim of gravity.

"Stop resisting. Leave everything behind, and I shall ensure your life is prosperous."

Izel made no reply. The shaking and writhing massage of her back only elicited loud moans; both satisfying and unsatisfying for the man because it gave no sign that she was about to submit.

Suddenly, a cannon shot from the sky crashed into both of them!

It was not a misdirected shot from a zeppelin. It was a Kris that released a flashing burst of energy.

Izel's breath hitched, bracing for the impact with the ground that would probably sever her left leg once and for all. But the first thing her posterior register was a plush cushion, almost ethereal like a cloud, she thought, for it felt simultaneously present and elusive. Her eyes fluttered open to find herself cradled in Barong's grasp and her gaze meeting its grinning face and bulging eyes.

"S-slow down!" Izel shouted. Alas, her feet sizzled even with the faintest whisper of wind. Pink flames once again flecked her form as Barong slaughtered the approaching mujinos with its primal hands.

And where there was Barong, there was Wisesa. Binxtrunachs and Zaloses were about to pounce on him, only to be slapped by the ground upheaving beneath them. All done with a single thrust of a stone lever summoned by the stomp of Wisesa's foot.

"Not cool, man!" Wisesa initiated the exchange.

"You again," Momozcotzin scoffed at him. But then he noticed the persistent radar fire and the only thing ablaze on Wisesa was his attire, exposing tattoos on his torso. "How did you pass through my fire magic unscathed?"

"You stupid little ass, huh?" Wisesa taunted back. "With magic, duh! And if y'all abide with your chivalrous code, you'll make up for my damn clothes!"

"The shaman is kind, but his mouth is brimmed with venom. It's not my intention to end Izel. You need not involve yourself in our affairs."

Barong, still with its back turned, gradually straightened up. "I have already exhausted my patience with one lady bully. I shall not spare another!" The Patron of Lands pivoted, bringing its face closer to Momozcotzin.

Momotcotzin's eyes widened at the verdant elephantine humanoid figure, as expected. Now, he found himself retreating, body trembling, mouth convulsing. "I saw you on the temple walls! Tlaltecuhtli! How is it possible for a man like you to be inhabited by a Tlaltecuhtli?"

"There is only one possibility for you, you rascal: meddle with Izel again, and I shall swallow you whole, and no one shall mourn for you. Rather, all Tamoanchanese will revel in my return amongst them!"

"Man, fucking hate that proposal, but if Barong gets mad, I hate it even more," Wisesa chimed in. "So, just fuck off, okay?"

"Attend to your duties! Fight for your people, you impudent fool!"

Momozcotzin's eyes remained unblinking despite the sparks piercing them. He lingered in confusion for a while before fleeing. At least the Tamoanchanese were still familiar with their legend.

"That's how you defend your embattled friend!" Barong addressed Wisesa again, in a tone much to his displeasure.

"Which involves eating something alive? Through my mouth? I still prefer insulting his mom." As they turned to Izel, the pyromancer had managed to rise to her feet, albeit with a limp. Her staff had dispelled the mujinos with the firewall in the first place.

"One good thing about you, is that you can take care of yourself," Wisesa noted dryly.

"Next time, stop that. Because for now, I don't need you, Wisesa." Izel's expression remained sour. "If I continue to rely on you, Citlalicoatl won't deem me worthy!"

"By the gods. A simple thank you wouldn't hurt."

A groan escaped the Orange Witch. "You... you're right. Citlalicoatl will also judge me by even the smallest gesture. I thank you, Wisesa." Her gaze then shifted to the tattoos adorning his torso—she almost overshot downwards as the flames reduced his entire pants to a fragile cotton skeleton. "So that's what your eyes see when you see Tlaltecuhtli?"

Wisesa shrugged. "It's uglier."

"And you have no qualms about battling in the nude like that?"

Wisesa's finger massaged his chin briefly before he implemented a new idea: summoning pebbles to clothe his entire body as makeshift armour. "Damn. It's so itchy. How long do you guys usually fight?"

Izel's eyes flicked towards the portal. Her firewall had yet to be breached by mujinos. "We've been battling for two hours. If it's swift, another hour. If not, half a day."

"We have cool snake rifles, War Walkers, Zepellin, even automatons and mujino's potion. If we don't wrap it up in thirty minutes, I'm gonna raise a fuss with the government about it."

Wisesa and Izel braced themselves to dispatch more monsters once the barrier before them dissipated. Another thought occurred to the lad. "If it pleases you and your god, we'll play the game of who slaughters the most Mujinos again. But I'm sure I'll pull out the win again. I mean, come on. I have Barong. Simple logic."

With that, Izel's grin slowly rekindled with vigour. "You'll just have to wait and see. Citlalicoatl is watching me fight together with the Earth Monster. Today, I shall manifest his glory when my flaming staff beheads more monsters than a god! []