The battle between the Caxcan and Otomí soldiers did not look good at all, since the Caxcan warriors, though not more numerous than the Otomíes, fought as if each one were ten warriors.
The Caxcan warriors wore only a headband, which displayed a red feather. Their hair was long, and their brown skin was covered in scars made through self-sacrifice rituals. They also wore red loincloths and tattoos across their entire bodies. They were armed with spears and bows.
The Otomíes, for their part, wore short yellowish tunics, and their faces were painted with black and red lines. They also had long hair. They were armed with shields, maces, slings, and spears.
Using the lava at their feet, the Caxcan warriors bathed their skin in it, making their bodies glow red-hot while melting everything they touched by increasing the magma’s heat with their divine power. Although the Otomí warriors could barely withstand the magmatic heat of the place, they were not capable of stopping the Chichimeca warriors’ charges.
With their spears, the Caxcans tore off the limbs and heads of the Otomí warriors as if they were melted butter. Their fire arrows made their enemies’ heads explode.
To increase the difficulty of the war, the monstrous two-headed serpent, Maquizcoatl, mercilessly devoured the Otomí warriors, who could not harm the monstrous being.
Otontecutli could only watch the bloody spectacle, since he had shared his divine power with his warriors. If he even thought of taking it back from them, all of them would immediately die in the boiling lava where they stood.
However, at the same time, the god had recovered part of his divine power thanks to the Otomí warriors who had died in combat. But his power would not make such a clear difference in the fight. The god did not know what to do as he watched the battle turn into an absolute defeat for his army.
“What can I do?” the Otomí king thought, worried, as he saw his men fall more and more while the Caxcan soldiers advanced quickly through the Otomí ranks.
Otontecutli then realized that the Chichimeca warriors’ objective was him. The Otomí soldiers had surrounded their king so he would not be attacked, but they could do nothing against the might of the cruelest and most powerful army in Anáhuac.
“My soldiers, my people… are they dying to protect me?” he thought, stunned and ashamed when he realized that his cowardice would not allow him to lead his army properly.
Morale was very low. Otontecutli’s men were determined to sacrifice their lives to protect their god.
But the gigantic serpent Maquizcoatl forced its way through the Caxcan soldiers, and with its two monstrous jaws, it caught several Otomí soldiers, who melted inside its mouth thanks to its magmatic covering.
“No… we cannot lose!” the Otomí god shouted furiously when he saw the enormous disaster unfolding among his men’s ranks.
Otontecutli’s eyes filled with tears, and he ground his teeth in anger and frustration. His hands and legs trembled, but there was a limit to his fear.
His cowardice had almost caused Cuerauáperi to lose her life.
His cowardice had pushed him to bend before the attack of the three Camazotz in his kingdom.
His cowardice had kept him away from this conflict, even though his friends had been captured in Tollan.
Now, his cowardice was taking its toll on the people who had placed their faith and hopes in him. The Otomí people, one of the oldest peoples of Anáhuac, whose culture was ancient, rich, and proud, were being massacred by a group of barbarians without emotions or feelings, because of the cruel way Itzpapálotl had trained them.
Without thinking twice, Otontecutli leapt toward the monstrous serpent Maquizcoatl and, covering his fist with fire, struck the grotesque being with all his strength while shouting:
“T’öhö tsibi ntho (Volcanic Explosion)!”
Although the attack did not cause enough damage to the monster, it was powerful enough to push one of its heads away from attacking the Otomí soldiers.
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“Hñahñú people, we cannot give these savages the pleasure of winning!” Otontecutli shouted furiously in the Otomí language.
“We are a people full of culture and traditions,” Otontecutli continued shouting. “We created the great cities of Cuicuilco, Ticomán, and Tlapacoya, which were the backbone of culture throughout all Anáhuac!”
At that moment, the serpent bit the Otomí god’s arm. Thanks to his protection against high temperatures, he was able to withstand it, but it caused him gigantic pain. Fortunately, because of the magma covering, the serpent could not release venom.
“Lord Otontecutli!” the soldiers shouted in fear when they saw their god in agony.
“This is nothing!” the Otomí king shouted. “And if I can withstand this pain, then you can also withstand the attacks of these savages!”
Otontecutli then embraced the enormous serpent’s jaw and, using all his strength, flew toward the ground at full speed, smashing one of the monster’s heads into the surface.
Immediately afterward, the Otomí god freed himself from the serpent’s bite, and covering his fists with magma, he began striking its head with all his strength, causing tremors each time he wounded it.
However, Maquizcoatl’s other head, furious, lunged toward the Otomí king, who could do little to avoid the attack. But just at that moment, Otomí warriors attacked the head with their maces and spears. Using its neck as a path, they drove their spears into its skin and ran across it while the monster hissed in pain.
“Lord Otontecutli, do not worry about us! We will defeat this beast!” the men shouted.
But King Otontecutli smiled and stood.
“What kind of leader would I be if I let my people do all the work?” he said.
At that moment, he leapt toward the second head of the monstrous serpent and, with a magma punch, taking advantage of the wounds the Otomí warriors had caused, separated the terrible creature’s head from its neck. The diabolical serpent finally fell dead.
The Caxcan army stopped, surprised by the feat accomplished by the Otomí warriors. For the first time, they showed a hint of emotion, and that emotion was surprise.
“Do you see!?” Otontecutli shouted as he stood and raised his fist toward the sky. “There is nothing impossible for us! Not even these disgusting cannibals!”
The Otomí warriors raised their spears toward the sky and shouted with renewed energy. Then the counterattack began.
Although the Caxcan warriors attacked them with their burning spears, the Otomí soldiers finally avoided the attacks and decapitated them with their weapons. Though a rain of incendiary arrows fell from the sky, fired by the skilled Chichimeca archers, the Otomí warriors protected themselves from them with their shields.
Killing the monstrous serpent Maquizcoatl had made them greater. As had the words and actions of their leader.
Otontecutli likewise joined the battle on the front line. Although he was pierced by his enemies’ spears and arrows, he continued striking his foes with his fists. Quickly, the nearly six hundred Caxcan warriors began to shrink to fewer than two hundred.
At that moment, the Caxcan army, the best-prepared army in Anáhuac, who never showed emotion or fear in battle, were breaking ranks before the advance of the Otomí army.
“Do not let them escape! Finish them off!” the king of the Otomíes shouted at the top of his lungs to his warriors with slings.
The slingers quickly attacked the Caxcan soldiers with precision as they fled the war. The sling stones struck the backs of their necks, swiftly ending their lives.
Meanwhile, the warriors finally surrounded the last Caxcan soldiers. The battle was over.
At that moment, each surviving Caxcan warrior pulled a knife from his loincloth and drove it into his own heart, an act neither Otontecutli nor the Otomíes could understand.
One of the Caxcan warriors then said in Nahuatl:
“Great Cihuacóatl, you gave us your power, and now we return it to you.”
After that, the man perished because of the wound he had made in his own heart.
“That is right. That power belonged to Cihuacóatl,” Otontecutli said, worried. “That means she will recover all her power now that both her men and the horrible beast have died.”
And indeed, Cihuacóatl, in serpent form, emerged in the center of Tollan, or at least in the ruins that remained. Her power was monstrous and terrifying. In her mouth, she held Tajín, murdered by the venom of her fangs.
“Tajín!” Otontecutli shouted in shock and panic when he saw his Totonac friend murdered by the monstrous goddess.
Rage surged through his eyes and throughout his entire being. Cihuacóatl was, without a doubt, the most powerful opponent they had faced so far.
However, at that moment, the wounds caused by the Caxcan warriors could finally be felt throughout the god’s body, and he fell to his knees, badly wounded, while his warriors tried to tend to him.
“This is the worst possible moment to lose consciousness,” Otontecutli thought. “If I die, my men will become prey to that disgusting goddess’s attacks.”
Elsewhere, Xólotl and Chantico continued fighting over the ruins of Tula. Both gods placed their feet on the mountains near the city.
“You are only Quetzalcóatl’s cowardly brother, the one who fled from Puh when he learned he would be sacrificed to become the Fifth Sun,” the Chichimeca goddess said mockingly.
“I wish I could speak more about you, but I know very little of your life, Chantico,” Quetzalcóatl’s twin brother replied.
“That is enough. I do not need a coward to remember me in Mictlán,” the goddess of fire said.
Then both gods unleashed their techniques, which collided and created an overwhelmingly powerful explosion that could be seen throughout all of Tollan.