Blood sprayed violently, accompanied by a piercing scream. Bertade looked up, puzzled, only to see Xipak, who had fallen to the ground in terror.
The young craftsman had been standing too close. He had stared at Tezroca's fate and, getting sprayed in the face, collapsed, screaming in horror. Now, his nose and mouth were covered in warm liquid, and the thick smell of blood filled the air. In his heart were the terrifying, desperate eyes of Tezroca in the last moments, complete with pupils violently contracting.
The Head Warrior chuckled dismissively. Then, he grabbed the wet hair from the ground, lifted the still-bleeding head as if it were a pumpkin freshly cut, and walked back to the youth with a calm expression.
Xiulote calmly glanced at it, then averted his gaze as his anger subsided slightly.
"How many accomplices does Tezroca have?"