Tzultacaj jerked his axe in the air in a futile effort to rid the blade of the thick layer of viscous blood that was coating its edge. The shaking did nothing. His gaze darkened at his failure to easily clean the ancient inherited weapon. If there would be time for proper maintenance, it would come after the Cult of Chakyum was eliminated, but that was in the distant future. The stains upon his heritage would remain for now. His axe already bore the evidence that the journey had been long, but it promised to be longer still. Stepping away from the quieted battlefield, he broke from his normal pattern and sought to hear the status of their second campaign before moving on.
Tzultacaj rarely hesitated. Once one battle was done, he moved to the next. But in this case, he paused his constant forward progress. There was no fear clouding his mind. It was the unusual behavior of the Cult that drew him to his tactician, seeking answers. It wasn’t the first strangeness he had noticed since openly beginning their second campaign.
They had defeated a strange formation of Cultists who were camping in the parade grounds of an infantry base within the previous borders of Mexico. It was a location he had been before, several times, but there had been no enemies present. It was a mere 50 to 100 miles from the Yucatan settlement, taking into account the changes to the mana awoken Earth. The former infantry base now fell within the confines of the civilization shard’s territory, but the land between was the thick rugged jungle that had proven to be difficult during their first campaign. The monsters had grown relatively tame in the time since. A positive development for the Jaguar Sun, but they still looked forward to leaving their territory. The Ruin Nebulas were their preferred enemies.
There hadn’t been nearly as many Priests as he anticipated prior to reaching the infantry base. He had more successful hunts with Juliana in the weeks prior, where they confronted individual holdouts on a regular basis. The ones they did find on their current campaign weren’t dug in as he would expect. They weren’t holding large groups of hostages or picking apart smaller unprotected settlements as they engaged in dark rituals. Tzultacaj was struck by the eeriness of their altered actions.
It was odd to find Chakyum’s forces in transition. They were typically securing themselves in strongholds of their choosing or moving as solitary individuals, like missionaries in search of a new flock. He had never encountered a large convoy on the move before this one, and its existence added to the oddities of the Cult’s recent behavior. They were already strange, but a departure from their normal operations raised his hackles. For a hunter, it was the difference between cornering healthy prey compared to something diseased. The altered behavior was suspicious.
While Tzultacaj had yet to rid his homeland of the blemish that the Cult represented, his efforts were unceasing. If anyone was familiar with their regular actions, it was him, the one who made the Cultists his prey. Day after day he was traversing new and old hunting grounds, slowing the infection’s spread. Naturally, he would notice when something changed.
After the Jaguar Sun had failed, the situation in the region deteriorated further. In response, Tzultacaj redoubled his efforts, attempting to make up for lost ground. The Cult wasn’t even aware of how close they had come to fighting an all out war over the Yucatan settlement, but afterwards they were able to expand almost completely uncontested aside from what little he could do. The Primal Constructs were of no help when it came to the settlement that, over time, had become the focal point of the Cult.
It felt like several lifetimes ago that momentum had built behind his axe and a war host had formed to cull Chakyum from Central America once and for all. He knew that those around him were losing hope, finding themselves caught between challenges that were too threatening to continually face. Both the Cult of Chakyum and the wild Primal Constructs were strengthening, but the Jaguar Sun had been fading into memory. The movement that followed in Tzultacaj’s path was a brief flash of hope that disappeared as it was eclipsed by the system’s events.
Tzultacaj didn’t have any expectations. For him, there was no need for hope. There was only duty and a simmering rage. His class had granted him power that he used to fight for those who struggled. It was natural to share in times of plenty and to be aided in times of scarcity. The assimilation had provided plenty for Tzultacaj.
There was a time, before the assimilation, that he had been on the other end of the struggle. Neighbors and strangers pitched in from time to time to make sure his family wasn’t left behind as the modern world encroached on their more traditional way of living. He believed he was merely doing what anyone else would do if the tables were turned and they were the ones that had been empowered. The innate cooperation throughout their community was ingrained in his blood. When others joined forces to follow in his wake, he felt it was proof that his instinct was a communal one.
The cooperation wasn’t limited to the indigenous Maya peoples that existed in the Yucatan either. People from all walks of life had joined in the resistance, but on some level the existence of the Cult of Chakyum felt like a personal attack on his culture. Tzultacaj could freely accept that his desire to rid the world of the Cult was partially motivated by personal animosity. It was possible that even if the Cult wasn’t openly hostile, he would continue to have a bone to pick with them. He supposed that most of the others who joined in the war felt similarly.
Those who survived the Jaguar Sun’s original failed campaign had scattered throughout Central America, returning to the remnants of their homes or staking out new claims, assuming they escaped the pursuing monsters. Only a handful of the warriors continued their proactive efforts to secure the region, and of those, the four elites were the most prominent and longest lasting. If it wasn’t for the cooperation of Juliana, Mateo, and Sierra, the Cult of Chakyum would have spread far and wide, even with Tzultacaj’s continued efforts.
He was a single-minded hunter-turned warrior. The additional organization necessary to maintain an army and sustain a campaign were beyond him. Mateo had stepped out of Tzultacaj’s shadow to make sure the rest of the warriors that formed the Jaguar Sun were relatively structured. The man was something of a warrior even before the assimilation, fighting in a resistance before magic had painted their world in new colors. If it wasn’t for Mateo, the Jaguar Sun would have been a simple mob with Tzultacaj leading the way.
Many things were different the second time around. Mateo was there at the beginning this time, as was Juliana. Mateo had maintained a structured organization that blocked the Cults' northward expansion from his base near the Pacific Coast. They were more prepared for the difficulties that lay ahead, had a better understanding of their enemies, were more desperate than before, and had a new ally that could neutralize the Cult’s newest and greatest advantage. Tzultacaj left the tactics to Mateo, but he was able to conclude that Coop was a warrior that could change the tide himself.
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The Cult of Chakyum was a nebulous existence consisting of untold numbers of Acolytes and relatively less, but more vicious and powerful, Priests. Tzultacaj had been the first to prove the Priests were not truly divine beings, but were humans bathing themselves in the blood of others. He began his hunt by killing the Priest that sacrificed the villages near his home. Others became aware of his feats and decided that if he could take a Priest’s head then they could as well. Juliana was the next to take one of their hearts, and in feeding it to her spirit animal, revealed that the mysticism wasn’t limited to the enemy’s side.
However, the challenge of the Cult had evolved. The newer High Priests were existences potentially beyond those of the Jaguar Sun’s elites. Tzultacaj fought to prove they wouldn’t be left behind, but it wasn’t until Coop jumped into the Butterfly Cave that any High Priest was shown to be fallible. Defeat would be inevitable if the Cult bolstered itself any further.
Tzultacaj followed wide channels that had been carved into the broken concrete ground, revealing the light colored sandy foundation beneath. He bypassed the many warriors that had fought at his side and were in the process of checking their own equipment or recovering from wounds. Each of the channels was as wide as his arms were long and he knew they had been brilliant energy blasts launched by Mateo in his bout with a pair of Priests. The channels of destruction all emanated from a single point as Mateo repeatedly cast his primary attack. The man hadn’t moved from his stationary position even after the battle was done, and Tzultacaj found him deep in thought as if he had transitioned from combat to contemplation the instant his opponent was defeated.
“Mateo.” Tzultacaj spoke, interrupting the silent meditation.
“I know, I know.” Mateo responded, raising a hand as he was already anticipating the leader’s thoughts. “It was really weird. They have clearly only been in the area for a short period, less than a day even, or we would have known about them ahead of time. This was no stronghold. Not to mention that it was occupied by more than one.”
Mateo pointed to a burned pile of ash. “All the Cult members’ bodies disappeared like usual, shriveling up until they turned to dust and smoke, but there could have been regular people with them that we didn’t notice. We should ask around and see if any of the warriors encountered an enemy that was not an Oathsworn Human like usual. If regular humans fought us on the side of the Cult...” He waved his hand back and forth like he was waving a fly away. “I think maybe this could have been a recruitment march. That’s the only possibility I’ve come up with. They were all heading back toward the settlement together.”
“Together?” Tzultacaj asked. Interrupting his friend’s rambling.
“I know, right? Six Priests together was a real surprise.” The lines on Mateo’s forehead deepened. “I hope it was just a coincidence and they were all returning at the same time. But from the same direction? I don’t know. If they were recruiting, I would have expected far more regular humans and far less Priests. Are they pooling their resources? Already? We have barely gained momentum, and Sierra should only just be joining Juliana around now. They should have barely gotten started. I didn’t expect the Cult to react at all, let alone so soon. In any case, I’ve never heard of them cooperating like that before.”
Tzultacaj thought they were lucky to have encountered the contingent of Cultists while he was there with Mateo. If it was any of the Jaguar’s elites alone, they would have been in danger, though both Juliana and Sierra were capable of escaping if necessary. Mateo in particular would have been vulnerable.
“The Acolytes?” Tzultacaj continued.
“It was unusual to find so many together, that’s for sure. But the Jaguar Warriors have clearly gained far more combat experience than any of them. However, we may not be able to bolster our numbers the way you did on the first campaign. What are all the Priests doing? Even the ones we find barely have anyone living beneath their thumbs. Not to mention, there are just less people who haven’t already picked a side. We were always going to be outnumbered, but this might be worse than expected. Maybe we can manage, unless we walk into some sort of trap.” Mateo idly rubbed one palm with the fingers of his other hand. “That’s what I’m worried about. I can’t figure it out, but it’s possible they are prepared for us this time around. We should be cautious, but we don’t have time on our side, so we can’t be too cautious.”
He frowned, furrowing his brows and shifted his gaze toward Tzultacaj with seriousness that couldn’t be understated. “We’re already at risk of completely losing our chances by facing a High Priest before you and I are ready. It’s early enough to call it off without serious losses. We can bolster ourselves for the next event and see how things shake out afterwards. I mean, are you even sure that this Coop outsider can handle himself? From what I heard he’s just some gringo wandering around the woods calling out in search of Chakyum because they wrecked his settlement.”
“I’m sure.” Tzultacaj confirmed without hesitation. “His settlement continues to climb the leaderboards.” He added, pointing out an obvious flaw in the rumors.
He had witnessed Coop’s Strength firsthand when he tried to take the Champion’s head and was disarmed like a child swinging a stick at a grown adult. That Coop had gone on to successfully defeat the High Priestess that he and Juliana couldn’t even reach further revealed the gap between their abilities. Tzultacaj was sure that Coop could succeed where he could not. The Cult had disturbed a caiman nest by visiting Ghost Reef.
“Yes, yes. He seems to have defeated two or three already, but I believe the Cloud Dancer took care of one herself. If we hear news of her victory soon, then I’ll feel more confident.” Mateo continued, before he slowly grew more distracted with his own thoughts. “Even if we get good news, it’s bad news though. How many High Priests are there? We had assumed just a few, but if so many are being found we might be underestimating their forces too much. They mask their levels with the regular Priests too well, and not all Priests rose high before establishing their strongholds...”
Tzultacaj tuned the babbling tactician out, making his decision as he gazed across the parade grounds. There were 50,000 Jaguar Warriors spread across the military base and into the town behind them. They had begun their campaign with more than half that many, and even though they had defeated a handful of Priests before reaching the infantry base, the numbers hadn’t grown as rapidly as they hoped. The Jaguar Sun’s second dawn wasn’t the same liberating army that the first had been. Instead, they were a final resistance, continuing where the previous left off.
Juliana and Sierra would be leading the larger portion of their army. He predicted they would converge upon the Yucatan settlement within two weeks. It would be difficult to adjust their plans if it became necessary. He was already demanding a lot from Juliana, having her lead most of the forces, but she had experienced warriors behind her, and she would have Coop close by. Tzultacaj wouldn’t put more pressure on her by lacking the commitment to follow through on the plan himself.
Tzultacaj marched forward without any more words, letting Mateo drone on, and leaving the rest of the crowd to notice and follow on their own. He knew there was a lot to worry about, but there was no use in lingering in their thoughts the way Mateo couldn’t stop himself from doing.
In the end, he assessed that the Jaguar Sun would be four or five times smaller than what Mateo dreamed of. At the rate they were finding Priests, they would have killed ten times less than what Juliana would have wished. Sierra would not be happy with how slowly the armies moved and that they were constantly having to fight their way forward. None would be satisfied.
Tzultacaj just wanted to find the next Priest that he would kill. Just one head would mean progress. More would follow. His axe still dripped with the drying blood of the previous four Priests of the day, but his only thoughts were on the next.