As Karaccnar's hunger grew, we started to demand increasing amounts of tribute from the Zuzuri, and they couldn't keep up. First they sent mostly men to us, but at this point the amount of flesh we needed had grown so large, that the Zuzuri had begun to send their children instead, lest the entire adult population be sacrificed. Their women were already constantly producing children, and their population was still in decline. They'd go extinct in a decade if we kept this up. We weren’t happy with this either, but we had no other choices. After all, we couldn’t sacrifice our own. Realising this burden on them and our limitless demands, we started to actively hunt members of the eastern bear tribe, the Pacuki. They were a tribe of proud warriors, and they fought back harshly. Their shields bore depictions of the many giant animals they had defeated, and their weapons were crafted from metals rather than rock. However Karaccnar's tentacles had begun to infract upon their territory, and wherever his tentacles grew, they could not outmatch us in combat no matter how hard they tried. Occasionally they'd win some ground back by burning sections of the jungle, including the tentacles, or by cutting through its massive arms, but this was always temporary, whilst our victory was all but ensured.

The Pacuki had faced many mythical creatures before, and conspired with several other tribes. They too would honour the great Quetzalian each year during the beginning of the monsoon season, and they asked it for a favour. Their expert poison witches and fire mages formed an alliance, and they travelled in secrecy deep into our borders. Then one fateful night they attacked our village, and primarily Karaccnar himself. They tried to ignore its tentacles, instead focusing on its many, numerous mouths. Arrows rained from the sky that night, and magic spells flew through our narrow streets, colliding with the plant and our wooden and stone buildings. Some of the mouths were severely damaged, some even destroyed, but Karaccnar held on and survived. Every time a tentacle was obliterated, a new one seemed to appear, as it tore open the ground to reveal more of its body. We protected Karaccnar. We didn't want to evoke its vengeance, we attacked the mages and witches relentlessly with our spears, bows and arrows. Our priests casted protective spells to aid the great Karaccnar. Many of them questioned us, but we knew better, and their fate was sealed. The fight was still going in the early morning, as women and children fled the premises of the village.

Then high in the sky we saw Quetzalian, its beautiful multi-coloured feathers beaming in the distance, and atop of him were several rival chieftains. They had summoned and controlled Quetzalian, much to our surprise. I still remember when we honoured him, but like most of our village, this time we weren’t pleased with its appearance, for we knew it was in vain. They flew him all the way to the heart of Karaccnar, where it used its massive beak to attack the great Karaccnar. Karaccnar 's thick hide was almost impenetrable to their blades and spells, but Quetzalian managed to pierce the thick veiny appendages. It carefully retreated after each attack, to avoid Karaccnar's grasp. Despite its efforts, it wasn't long before Karaccnar managed to grab a hold of its claws, and then it rapidly covered its entire body, and dragged it to the ground. The thick thorn-ridden veins embraced the bird's body, tearing apart its hide and feathers as they constricted its movement more and more. The sound of bones snapping grated our ears, as Quetzalian slowly succumbed, and could move less and less. Then Karaccnar tore its body apart and fed the pieces to its largest mouth, at the center of the temple complex. Karaccnar had slain a god bird. The attackers stopped attacking and fell to their knees, en masse they worshipped the great plant, and Karaccnar spared many of them, others he ate. We asked Karaccnar for forgiveness, and for a whole month our priests and healers worked tirelessly to heal its wounds. The Pacuki officially surrendered and were subjugated. I remember entering their village, which was trice the size of our own, and inscribing the specifics of our treaty with them at the center of their market, on a large stone tablet. The villagers looked distraught and unhappy to see me, but they didn’t say a thing. I understood that they didn’t know what I did. For now, we lived in peace once more, no more conflict, we would all work together again, like one big family.