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The strong wind carried the chill of late December, with that unique desolation and solemnity of the autumn and winter seasons.
In the tropical north of Mexico, there was no snow to cover up the cruelty of everything, only the golden-yellow beanstalks in the fields during the harvest season.
The end of the year had arrived, and in the blink of an eye, it was the ominous day.
Perhaps due to the pressure of food, the two detached forces quickly assembled and promptly took along provisions for more than a month.
Twenty thousand troops headed north for two days, then split to go northwest and due north. Three thousand Samurai, nearly two thousand Militia, and the divine and merciless King Tizoc remained, sitting in their camp below the city of Otapan.