The morning sun rose from the Divine Mountain in the Eastern Valley, illuminating the fertile plains of the Lake Region in the west. The plain was covered with deep red traces of slaughter, extending all the way to the end of the river. At the crisscrossing center of these traces lay the boundless Mexica encampment, like a hunter in a red spider web, enjoying the tranquility after the hunt.
The large army encamped in the open, simply arranged yet filled with a solemn atmosphere. Over twenty thousand elite troops were stationed in the camp, guarding a vast number of captives. Patrolling elites, archers, and staff in hand, spread out for miles, vigilantly guarding against the southeast direction.