The long night stretched on, layers of clouds piling up, with no lamps nor any sight of stars or moon. The Mistecs' harassment began from the north of the riverbank, and then emerged at the western side of the camp. Wave after wave of skirmishes took place in the darkness. Initially, there was the sound of arrows flying, followed by footsteps running, then cries of struggle, groans of the injured, death rattles, and the splashing sounds of bodies falling into the water.
Chiwaco and Puap boarded the longship, looking into the indistinct distance, listening to the sounds carried by the wind. The two gripped their weapons tightly, rallying the members of the expedition, patiently waiting on the ship. On such a night of slaughter, numbers could be a disadvantage.
"Hmm, it seems that the enemy doesn't have many men."
Chiwaco raised his palm, placing it by his ear, frowning as he listened for a long time.
