Wisesa appeared as the most anxious during this out-of-town excursion. Well, perhaps not a proper one if its destination was a small town on the brink of plague’s annihilation, a bastion of hope from debaucheries that lay beyond its border. For many times his eyes peered at the centre rearview, and when its field of view offered anything unpleasant, his head swivelled backwards.

“You could have followed her,” said Izel to him. She sat in the carriage's backseat, right beside the lad.

A scowl once again mar Wisesa’s image. “She can take care of herself. I need a change of pace too.” He hoisted one leg across the other, then fixed her neck to the window gaze. “I’m more worried about the people around her.”

Wisesa’s cheeks were devoid of the hue. But words could never utter lies even if they were lies themselves when one was adept enough to sniff them out. Izel was one among the few. “I know where she is assigned. Close to this cliff, in fact," she stated. "If this calms you, I can take you there. After my courtship of my people.”

No response from Wisesa. His chin had already landed on the hand perched on the carriage door.

They arrived at the Kagatsean residential district now festooned with brightly coloured ribbons and trinkets, walls claimed as murals of warrior portraits in thousand-feather helmets, and pointed roofs emblazoned with images of Citlalicoatl, the Star Serpent. What had once been men and women in simple kimono cocoons were now women in white overalls, men in garish garments pushing carts full of rice bundles, and warriors in all manner of animal helmets with their xiu dragon familiars wrapped around their necks. Wisesa glanced at Nenexoch in the front seat, his head still attached to his favourite rooster mask. The warrior's xiu dragon menaced him with a hiss, perhaps to discourage any funny thoughts from sassily crossing his lips.

But if there was one striking element he had also encountered in Takamagahara, it was the masses of people bathed in ash and spiral strokes who reposed in porches and on roofs, with incense candles by their side. The shinobi there also mostly cultivated in the trees and fields rather than honing jutsu or simple feats of agility. The town seemed too mundane and "peaceful" for a frontline, with nary an urgency to prepare for war or the like.

And as mundane as the city might seem, various things could happen in it. One of which was the commotion in the town hall square right across from the Tamoanchanese district landmark.

"Oh, not again," Izel complained as she noticed how conspicuous the dispute was as it was being waged by two different parties. "Nenexoch, pull over this carriage. Tlatli!"

"I'll take care of it." Elder Cipac in the front seat sighed as well.

"What are they fighting about?" asked Wisesa, casting a curious glance out the window.

"Another stupid palace fight, I reckon" replied Izel, opening the carriage door. "It's been six months, and they care more about one building than infinite mujinos!"

Cipac and Nenexoch began walking in the direction of the commotion, as more curious souls approached. But among the group, a man almost looming like a Magavostok Giant shoving the twig-bodied mortals aside was the one who managed to bring Izel's steps to an abrupt halt, even dragging her feet backwards.

"Eh, you know what, Wisesa? I'll just wait here," said Izel.

"You look like you've seen a monster or something?" the lad looked into the distance intently. "Oh, that tall guy?"

"No... You're such a joker, man! I'm... I'm fine. Look, plenty of people are there already. I won't you from going closer if curious."

Well if there was no coercion or the like, then minding people's business was definitely not a good deed he would do. He had one other good deed in mind that was "good" for him—lounging on the carriage's roof while indulging in the pleasure of tobacco. The rioters were kind enough to shout at each other for the whole town to hear. A free cinema, Wisesa reckoned while grinning.

"The castle you occupy is where the Ryuuzouji clan has resided for centuries. You have no right to live there! Reside elsewhere!" exclaimed a Kagatsean in a clan group wearing a navy blue kimono.

"Do we have to keep arguing about this?" replied the large challenger, his Tamoanchanese features on full display. "If you object, why don't you report it to Her Imperial Highness the Shogun? This brother of mine may be a dwarf in your eyes, but even he is a true warrior! He has bathed in more blood than those of you who merely split flies with your wimpy swords. To harass one of us is not to raise an objection, but to seek death!"

"Your barbarian talents won't cow our guts! This matter does not involve Dajō Daijin-sama, only our clan, the Ryuuzouji clan!"

"We look barbaric in your eyes, but you're the one with the dull brain, huh? It was your leader who gifted us the castle. Your bluff didn't earn you anything, Man!" The Tamoanchanese man slammed his chest into the Kagatsean. The harmony of drawn Katanas and staffs thundered. "Apologise to my brother then return to your homes, and tomorrow we will face the waves of Mujino again as brothers in arms. We are not even forcing you to kiss our feet. Just know that it's an expression of our sincerity."

"You are not our brothers, Gaijin! You are just pathetic refugees who stole our rights! We will take them back right now!" The Kagatse man swept his hand forwards.

Before the Tamoanchanese warriors' snapping teeth brought blood to their machetes, Elder Cipac came with a smooth stride, acting as a mediating fence between the two. Or rather, a portal barrier to the flaming fury of his people. "How can I help you, Good Lord?"

"Yes, there is. Tell your people to pack their belongings and step out of our castle. And you must remove the kitschy ornaments that mar the tiles and walls. That is a desecration!"

"You demand the same thing every day like beggars in the marketplace, but never find a peaceable middle ground. Where should we live in the future?"

"You grown men can build your own houses, right? Build tents like your families in the capital! Anywhere but that castle! That castle is only for those who rule Otnagochi, and I know for a fact that you do not hold our heads here, or anywhere else in Kagatse. By the Three Enlightenments, some of your people live in ordinary housing. Why don't you join them too?"

"Brother—"

"Never call me your brother!"

The elder's lips twisted into a faint but wry smile. "Because many of the Kagatsean families here choose not to neglect their homes and lands. It would be wrong for us to usurp their dwellings. We are merely occupying the vacant premises as per Her Imperial Highness the Shogun's permission."

"Exactly! It is an abomination to usurp someone else's place, especially for newcomers!"

"Therefore, we are entitled to the castle," the elder replied as he gazed at the gable-roofed tower in question. "No one has occupied the castle for months, even before we came. If we're not mistaken, the Ryuuzouji clan fled Otnagochi and settled in Amaterasu. Her Imperial Highness the Shogun personally gifted it to us."

"Watch your tongue! We are not a pack of cowards!"

"You are certainly not cowards, I know that. When your daimyo and most of your clan left Otnagochi, you were knights who remained loyal to their posts."

"They left because our Daimyo was in no condition to fight due to his severe illness! That's why it's our duty as clan members to maintain Ryuuzouji's sovereignty in the land of Otnagochi."

"Yes. Except I also learnt that the shogun also has the right to appoint a new daimyo to rule over which land."

The Kagatsean man growled softly. "You are not a daimyo, Gaijin. No one wants to be ruled by a foreigner like you."

"I don't feel like ruling here, because the army of the shogunate and the prowling Magisterium have more authority than me. But fine." While spluttering, the elder twisted his neck to the massed throng. After all, the number of curious Kagatseans was enough to warrant a single voice. "Greetings, my other Kagatsean brothers! Do any of you object to us giving an order or two in Otnagochi? If you wish to voice your honesty, now is the time!"

A murmur of mutterings echoed through the air, none of which were brave enough to raise their voices for an opinion. Not until one person from another conspicuous group approached the two clans.

"We have an opinion for the Tamoanchanese authorities in Otnagochi!" the gruff voice came from a grey-skinned and half-naked bald man, a Ninshu gesture linked in his hand. Both the Ryuuzouji clan group and the Tamoanchan pointed their sheaths at the person on alert, but they cancelled the killing intent shortly after realising that a fanatical hermit barely removed their fingers in a Mountain Knot, nor did the comrades behind him.

Instead of being curious, the Ryuuzouji clan representative rolled his eyes with a scornful groan.

"Speak, unpretentious hermit," the elder allowed.

"Let us never cause harm to these people. We have had a glimmer of enlightenment from our prophet, that the true people of Tamoanchan are a gift from Yuto Ganba, one of the three, the Ever-Perseverence!"

Such flattery made the fire-benders adopt sceptical expressions. The natives glared cynically.

"Does your tongue genuinely praise us?" the elder asked.

"Our tongues speak only the truth," the hermit continued, "The Tamoanchanese and their god will show us the path to enlightenment. We wait for your god to visit us all and make us anew!"

"There is no point in listening to nonsense from the mouths of these heretics!" interrupted the Ryuuzouji clan representative. "You and your fictional prophet. What is this Tamoanchanese's god doing? Turning us into mujinos as you clamour on the streets? Your people must be exterminated from the land of Otnagochi, all of Kagatse, even!"

"Alright, please stay civilised, brothers and sisters!" it was Still Cipac's turn to interject in a low voice. He gave a subtle hand gesture to the grey-painted humans. "Thank you for your flattery, Unpretentious Hermit. You may leave."

"We will await the arrival of your Star Serpent, People of Tamoanchan." The hermit in front slowly grinned to himself, not caring if it drew an uncomfortable frown. The Ryuuzouji clan representative's hands were even clenched, ready to be thrown at the paint-splattered braggart's face. "A new time has come. A new time has come. We will all be deemed worthy."

That last sentence. No one took it as a casual statement. The faces of the Tamoanchanese who were initially confused, uncomfortable, were now gaping with ire. But the hermits quickly reversed themselves and walked away from the scene. Their twisted theology had now evolved into a syncretic cult that indulged in the union of two warring parties to tie them to the stakes before the mujino portal. What a crazy world would do to a mere man.

"Putting that aside, are there any objections from the others? None?" asked Cipac again.

No one was more eager to refute the elder than the Ryuuzouji clan. No, even those who were middle-aged and in their golden years went back to their business as if the commotion was the result of the futility prevalent in adolescence. It was indeed vanity. From the subtle pleading, and incitement to the citizens, even to the number of violent confrontations and harassment from the Ryuuzouji clan members was a complete and utter stupidity that for some reason had to be held given that they were literally on the front lines. Cipac concluded with a nod.

"And this is my decision, the remnants of the Ryuuzouji clan: Your government placed us here to perform our service and what we are great at doing: Our proud fire magic. We do so in exchange for a place where we can form a cohesive community. If we had to choose between living here or in Takamagahara, we'd all prefer to sit back and put our feet up in the capital. But we're here for the common good, aren't we?"

"We guard your secure borders," the large Tamoanchanese beside the elder continued. "We are, at the very least, entitled to its luxuries, Kagatseans!"

"We never intended to conquer this little patch of land forever, Good Warrior. What are we doing that madness for? That's the work of the monster behind the wall." Cipac added. "What are we compared to thousands of shogunate troops and their automatons? But what are you, the remnants of the former Otnagochi guardian clan, compared to us?"

"How dare you-"

"If you, your clan, have a problem, you can always report it to Her Imperial Highness Dajō Daijin and don't forget to bring your Daimyo. That is the most reasonable sounding option compared to confronting us directly. Funny as it sounds, never once have I heard this complaint from your daimyo. Never have I seen him come with objections every time I visit the Shogun's court. Is your daimyo truly condoning this?"

The young representative spoke no further, only his tense, snarling face did the talking. But never did he stay that way. "Know this, whether silently or openly we will not stop until you yourself beg to get out of the castle you love so much-"

"Is that a threat I hear?"

Hashomon's voice behind the clan youth cut off the debate cold. Hashomon, Henge, and Domen walked forward and, to their surprise, faced the clan representative. Gate guard reinforcements for the Tamoanchanese.

"Nanda yo .... " Hashomon made a rhythm with a cluck of the tongue. "Look at the adults here. They don't want to move from their homes, but they still do their jobs in peace. Why can't you people do the same? I've taken the time to talk to your sick daimyo recently, and he never planned this."

"Hashomon-sama! How could we let strangers occupy the land-"

"The elder said everything clear and true. I don't need to repeat myself. I already know what you want. Young people like you are prone to guessing.”

But the magic general immediately caught both sides of the cheek with one hand, covering the young man's mouth, the pressure of his fingers shaking the panicked head. "Go home," Hashomon said coldly. "Go home," Hashomon said coldly. "Take care of your sick Daimyo in Amaterasu. That serves you as a more valuable warrior than you here playing a troublemaker. The topmost scabbard on his left began to bare its blade. "Or we settle this dispute right now with Kakusha Onji, and let there be no more recriminations!”

Hearing that last statement made the young man's eyes bulge, but his footsteps managed to tremble in retreat. Unfortunately, the Magic General's grip remained supreme.

"I knew it. Everyone can see your deceitfulness with plain eyes," Hashomon further added. The sword blade failed to rise. "You're talking about my duty, and my duty is to make sure Otnagochi remains victorious over Mujino by his magic ability. That alone stresses me to death."

Hashomon released the grip, pushing the young Ryuuzoji away. Fortunately, the clan members were quite united in welcoming him, even though the shivers down their spine almost paralysed them. Domen, the priest, bowed many times to both sides. "Thank you for your aspirations. I now ask you to disperse in peace."

And they complied with the gentle request. Everyone dispersed, voluntarily or not, but a few people from Tamoanchan's circle—Nenexoch, the giant man, and a few other youths—seemed to be conversing in Izel's eyes.

But then, like prey aware of being spied upon, the giant man's eyes stabbed back at Izel's gaze after the next blink. Izel nearly made a fool of herself fumbling frantically for the carriage door. Her face turned in the direction of the carriage as she opened the door like an elegant princess, and let her extremely tense body in slowly.

The entourage from the capital again drove the carriage closer to the beloved tower that the people were fighting over. At the very least, the sight of the Tamoanchanese and Kagatseans passing by in the lively district was a feast for their eyes. The atmosphere of home. Only the youth of the Ryuuzouji clan would want the world to burn rather than coexist like this. While the district was livelier, it was also hotter--many Tamoanchanese warriors in heavy fur dresses practised pyromancy in the field and in flat-roofed buildings. Unlike the mostly brooding Ninshu practitioners, the fire mages breathed out tongues of flame as well as war screeches in the air. So this is the source of the sparks seen from the top of the sphereship, thought Wisesa.

Especially for Wisesa, another thing that made him squint his eyes was the apparent relationship between humans and xiu serpents on the streets of the city. Thinking that xiu dragons wrapped around the necks of hundreds of people was disturbing, Wisesa swore that this was the first time he had seen hundreds of xiu snakes in a herd of "cattle", herded by a Tamoanchanese to cross the street! He recalled a similar scene on a village street in Yawadwipa, but the animals being led were ducks, not dragons that would be used as organic flame-throwing rifles.

The yellow carpet had already extended to a castle when Izel's entourage opened the carriage door. Rows of people in even brighter and tackier clothes were kneeling on each side of the carpet with their mouths full of chewed dirt. Another disgusting welcome, Wisesa reckoned.

In the end, the Barong lad chose to corner himself at the mouth of the castle gates instead of joining in the conviviality of the Tamoanchans. It was ingrained in his mind that even the people there were not too bothered by the presence of a new person if said person did not initiate a move first. And Wisesa did not like the idea of taking the first initiative, unless voices were ringing in his ears to do so, and he still loathed it. Or if the initiative was a competition of mocking people.

"Hey!" the crash of a voice interrupted Wisesa's reverie of the line of xiu snakes on the road.

Seeing the origin of the sound, the man clucked his tongue. "Women do like to cause heart attacks, don't they?"

Izel tapped Wisesa on the shoulder as she shook her head and giggled. "Not just women, but all living things if they see you daydreaming like a fool. Or prey."

Wisesa's lips puckered. They tasted sour. His daily intake of tobacco was still lacking. "Is your business done?" Wisesa's hand had fished out his pocket and seized the shiny-surfaced horse horn. His eyes peered behind the gate; a crowd of garishly dressed individuals began to enter the palace one by one.

"We've just been welcomed, Wisesa. Relax a little," Izel assured him, pushing the lad's rough hands back into his pockets. "Come on, don't be aloof like a grim-faced bodyguard. You're not my bodyguard and you're not with Alicia. I'll help you get acquainted."

"I can make introductions on my own. I'm not that socially inept."

"Fine, as long as you don't act like one. They really like meeting new people, you know? Especially if that person is a strong person!"

"That strongman fetish of yours."

The sound of scorn escaped Izel. "Don't be like that. It's only natural for the strong to gather with the strong if you want to create a civilised society!"

Izel was already pulling at Wisesa's cloth belt to guide him, but the man braced himself like a statue. "You didn't tell them about Barong's existence, did you?"

Izel's eyes crossed with Wisesa's face again. "If they found out, it would have been from the elders. Ah, they'll find out sooner or later anyway. You're going to fight with us, aren't you?"

Wisesa sighed. He should have just stayed with Alicia all along.

However, amidst the warm greetings of the old men and women, they all passed Izel's eyes only to reveal three younger figures in the distance. Two men and one woman, walking closer. Izel's brow slowly creased.

"Well, well, well. The most devout worshipper has finally arrived again," sneered the woman in the group.

The flat mouth on the Orange Witch's face was a hidden reproach for the arrival of the three teenage figures. One of them was the Giant Man clad in overalls with dull snake scales, and a giant dragon's head held up behind his shoulders by a staff - a banner symbolising the god of their people. His long hair was tied up in a clump on top of his head.

The short man who was involved in the fight with the Ryuuzouji youths was also there, the only cloth covering his upper body was a wrap of a shawl around his neck that seemed to match the giant navy blue neck necklace he was wearing. In addition to the bone ornaments and jewellery on his wrists and feet, an unusual tattoo also adorned his appearance, a white tattoo mixed with blood red that told of a collection of war dead.

Perhaps it symbolised the runt's hunting victims, in keeping with the big man's praise that the man drew more blood than the Kagatsan's shiny katana.

Other than the woman, the group was dressed for all-out war. No wonder they had no problem sparking a war against the Kagatsean youths.

Izel's gesture was not grandiose; he simply lowered her hat slightly as she subtly beckoned, "Itotia, Momozcotzin, Ixpepe."

"How was your journey in search of our god across Kagatse, sweet Izel?" the nosy question came from the man called Itotia, the pygmy, greeted with a roar of mocking laughter. "Has Citlalicoatl finally seen you worthy of your travels alongside the Rikaiha sect's heretical hermits who strip naked in the streets?"

The rows of teeth behind Izel's lips collided with each other.

"Well, at least if your absurd ritual idea fails again, you go home with the profits from selling candles." Momozcotzin, the big man added. "Or take the time to take care of a bunch of kuiloni who serve no purpose other than eating maize, wiggling their stomachs, and being the object of ridicule. Citlalicoatl blesses in many ways."

"If you could defend the honour of your fellow man during the feud with the Kagatsean group earlier, then doing the same to Citlalicoatl should be no different!" said Izel coldly and sharply.

Momozcotzin walked over, and he looked at Izel with a condescending sneer. "We honour Citlalicoatl by not blaspheming him with petty invocations without proper preparation."

"Oh Momozcotzin, you certainly sound intelligent with those words, just like tlatli." Izel's eyes wandered to the other two. "Have you forgotten that I've never missed a war with you?"

"Then keep it up, keep fighting," Itotia retorted. "There's no need to act like the warrior Tota, because you've never been as great or as good as him. Being a master of two traditions is already Citlalicoatl's greatest blessing, isn't it?"

"We are all masters of two traditions," Momozcotzin corrected, still squinting at the Orange Witch with disdain. "And you are the weakest of us. Far from being grateful, you'd rather beg a god instead of letting Citlalicoatl impose wisdom in his own time. That sounds weak. And it is only natural if you are... a woman, and act like one."

"You really still hold a grudge against me because you had the honour of having your arse set on fire by me, the first woman in the test?"

"So what? You want to have another duel like the exam days? Not yet deterred by having your hand bones broken by my fire magic? Not yet deterred after being locked up in the temple furnace?"

And with Momozcotzin's words coinciding with the giant shadow looming over her, Izel unwittingly took a step back. Although he did not see her true expression, Wisesa was slightly surprised by the woman's gesture. Never had Izel's body implied intimidation. But these hours today Wisesa had sensed anxiety in Izel several times. The Orange Witch's palms began to sweat, refraining from wiping them off on account of the challenge.

"Wisesa, do you really want to let her be bullied like that?" Barong began to groan inside Wisesa. "Let me out so that these arrogant people will fall to their knees in shame of Tlaltecuhtli's presence!"

Wisesa hissed. "Be quiet. Just stay there!"

But Wisesa always forgot, mistaking Barong for a real-life friend next to him. His scolding was misinterpreted by the three young bullies.

"Did you say something, Stranger?" said Ixpepe, the woman. "Who is this, sweet Izel? Your friend? Your bodyguard?" Soon, the woman gasped. "Oh, isn't he the one who's going to fertilise your womb? At last, Izel will soon abandon her vain ambition!"

Izel's frown deepened. His index finger was pointed sharply. "Don't speak out of turn, woman!"

"Shit!" Itotia exclaimed. Obviously, he was panicking. "We shouldn't be talking about this in front of strangers," he whispered to the big man.

Momotcotzin's first look at Wisesa implied nothing but respect. The narrowing of his eyes coincided with the misshapen half-open lips as if the sunlight stung him within a few feet. "Fear not, he's a fool," Momozcotzin replied to Itotia in Tamoanchanese, then switched tongues again. "You, Scrawny Man! If a Scrawny Man like you is accepted by the elders to fight together, then I have no problem with you. Go gossip with the other Tamoanchanese, while we have a little chat with her. Unless... she's your future wife, then you should have defended her dignity in the first place."

"By the gods, I'm starting to hate this matchmaking trend," Wisesa said. "Wouldn't a Tamoanchanese like you welcome me with respect if you knew I was a guest? The thing is, I've been waiting for the three of you to kneel at my feet, scrape the ground, and eat it. Or are the blocks in your abdomen so stiff that you can't even bend over?"

Hearing that, Momotcozin's body heated up. Literal heat indeed - his skin flushed, sweat seeping out but becoming vapour soon after. He immediately grabbed the blangkon-sported lad's collar until he was upraised. "A troublemaker here, aren't you, Scrawny Man? I'm reminded of someone similar!" His eyes glanced briefly at the person in question. Izel.

The witch began to raise her wand. Itotia and Ixepepe squirmed with excitement at the prospect of a teenage fight like two psychopathic couples. Izel softly requested, "Momozcotzin, don't involve him-"

But Wisesa's retort was surprising. "You remember? Who, your mum?"

"Keep the mention of your deceased mother out of your mouth, Stranger!" Momozcotzin's roar was almost as shrill as a bear's.

"Oh. S-sial... I didn't know that. I'm sorry," Wisesa raised both hands. "Jokes about mum. Bad habits. What was the cause of death? Mujino? Shit .... I hope your mother welcomes it with open arms. While eating dirt."

A hand as red as charcoal shot out, nearly stomping Wisesa's face if one hand did not block the attack!

"Not just a troublemaker. You are strong, Scrawny Man!" Momozcotzin noticed how his hand trembled against Wisesa's grip. "My mother did not die on the battlefield. She was with the others inside Ginnungagap."

Momotcotzin should stop giving Wisesa new ridicule.

"Damn, that's a worse fate. But you know what? Izel is actually doing you a favour, you idiot. She keeps invoking your god because he forgot to shine the light on Tamoanchan, talk about missing pieces. Act tough again in someone else's land and maybe your god will decide to stop shining Kagatse!"

"What did you just say, man? " Izel shouted, not realising he had joined Momotcotzin's side. Making a close friend side with the most evil demon was probably Wisesa's hidden talent. "How stupid of me to always forget that you have no feelings! You better think twice before mentioning that damn disaster! My mum died there too-"

"Stop the madness all of you!" Another shout was even shriller and it wasn't from Izel because he too jumped just like the others.

Nenexoch, the human in the rooster mask, drove his spear into the big man's chin. "Even the most depraved warrior would not treat his guest like that in his own home. Put him down."

"Even the most ignorant human can weigh when to use his mouth. This man has no sense. How about pointing your spear at his lips and splitting them in half—"

"Ha! Ha!" Nenexoch snapped at him with a howl.

"Hae! Hae!" Momozcotzin was not to be outdone.

"Lower him down, Momozcotzin. I'm not a tlatli, and I'm not as merciful. Lower him!"

"You pretend to be the head of the army, but I am not of your army. You've given me no reason to leave him."

"I won't tell you now, because you will find out sooner or later, and when that time comes, you will bear the shame." the rooster-headed man tightened his grip on the staff. "But the shame is not great, if you listen to me. I hate to admit it, but he is favoured by tlatli..., and he is stronger than the four of us would-be champions."

"Stronger?" the big man made a scoffing sound, then spat on the ground. With a deft wrist movement, he threw Wisesa. However, Wisesa landed smoothly. His humiliating stunt failed again.

"A wise choice, my friend," Wisesa said as he shook out his shirt. "But really. I'm sorry for your mum, okay? It won't happen again."

The three friends just snickered. "I hope you die in battle tomorrow," Momozcotzin concluded. Their bodies turned and walked away.

Nenexoch's spear shortened again. When he saw Wisesa's guiltless face, he shook his head and muttered, "I can't believe that humans like this are favoured by the tlatli," and left.

Now only the young Wisesa and Izel remained. But Izel seemed to have lost interest in the man. His feet had begun to drag on the ground, but he turned his face to Wisesa's again. "How many times do I have to tell you to show more respect to the fallen of Ginnungagap?"

"Hey I was just trying to help you-"

"Don't use that excuse again!"

"I never used that excuse to you-"

"Well, I'm still sick of hearing it!" Izel tried hard to cool his head and body. Literally, again. "No, it's not. It's my fault. They're right. I'm not strong enough to depend on people. To the point where I want to rely on someone like you and I forget that there's someone like you!" Those words made a disgruntled memory ring on the girl's forehead. Izel pressed his head with his hand and pulled it back. Nanar hit her head. "If I continue like this, I can't compete with them. Even with desperate training. Citlalicoatl won't find me worthy in his eyes."

"You and your friends have some wild fighting ritual or something?" Wisesa raised her eyebrows in confusion.

"That's none of your business." Izel solemnly turned and left.

"Hey! I thought we were going to visit Alicia's place!"

"Screw you! Ask the other residents there!"

Wisesa did not pursue it. The only movement observed on his part was his arm once again reaching for the horse horn pipe that he had failed to light. "Well, all in a day's work, isn't it, Barong?" he muttered in the wind.

"All in a day's work, what!" Barong roared. "That's not how you help, mate! Do I have to possess you and teach you to socialise like a baby again, huh?"

"You? Teach me? You're literally going to swallow that fat guy alive!"

"Even though your words were good enough to make that man angry. If only you hadn't also hurt Izel's heart!"

"Ah, you bastard, Barong! My actions are always wrong in your eyes. You were the one who asked me to help him!" []