An enormous explosion covered the entire sky of Tula, causing tremendous earthquakes throughout the region. The cluster of mountains disappeared, leaving only an abyssal hole from which magma and ash emanated.
The battle between Xólotl and Chantico had concluded. The goddess lay badly wounded and covered in burns at the bottom of the abyssal hole, while Xólotl, still floating above her, pointed at her with his incandescent staff.
“What do you intend to accomplish with this stupid rebellion against Itzpapálotl, coward?” the Chichimeca goddess asked in a faint voice.
“Tollan will be mine, not yours,” the Zacatec god said calmly. “However, as long as I cannot conquer it, I will not let any of you lay a hand on it either.”
“Nonsense,” Chantico replied, and began to laugh.
“Does death amuse you?” Xólotl asked mockingly.
“Great Itzpapálotl would not have risked invading her hated southern neighbors again if it had not been for her alliance with the king of the north: Huitzilopochtli,” Chantico replied.
“I know that man’s feats, but unlike all of you, I do not fear him,” the god replied.
Then Xólotl pointed at himself with his thumb.
“As you know, the prophecy says that whoever controls the city of Chicomóztoc, home of the seven different Chichimeca tribes, will be the absolute king of that region. And that person is me!” the Zacatec king said proudly.
“For now,” Chantico replied. “But your poor, feeble Zacatec kingdom will succumb at the hands of great Huitzilopochtli, and you know it.”
Then the goddess looked toward the sky and raised her hand.
“Seven caverns compose Chicomóztoc. The seven caverns are the seven Chichimeca kingdoms, and only one cavern shall rule the other six,” the goddess recited as if she had memorized it.
“Then it is absurd for Huitzilopochtli to be the one who rules the caverns, since he comes from a region outside Anáhuac,” Xólotl replied mockingly.
“Our lord’s power has no limits. That is why the gods from the other side of the world entrusted him with the authority needed to control all Anáhuac, and afterward, the rest of the continent,” Chantico said.
At that moment, she lost consciousness.
Xólotl made an incredulous gesture and spat on the ground.
“Nonsense. We will finish off that foreign god without a doubt,” he said.
But internally, he knew that the king of the north’s power was abyssal. He himself had felt fear when Huitzilopochtli confronted him in the Ball Game, where Orniskem had wagered their lives.
“Why did that man want those foreign gods to survive that time?” he wondered.
Then Xólotl remembered the words Huitzilopochtli had shouted in Nahuatl on that occasion:
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“If you do not let them go free, I myself will seize this city at this very moment. As you know, I am the king foretold by the prophecy of Chicomóztoc, and I will only claim what belongs to me by divine right.”
“At that moment, I felt unimaginable terror and blindly agreed to that man’s words,” Xólotl thought. “However, this time I will not doubt, and I will face him.”
Quetzalcóatl’s brother then raised his staff toward the sky and shouted:
“The only king of Chicomóztoc shall be me: Xólotl!”
“Would you like to bet on that?” an omnipresent voice was heard throughout the surroundings.
Xólotl looked everywhere and saw no one.
“I am in front of you, Xólotl,” the voice was heard again.
The Zacatec god looked before him and saw Huitzilopochtli floating in a relaxed position, almost as if he were lying down.
“From the moment I heard that legend, I knew it spoke of me, the only one with the power and right to control this region,” Huitzilopochtli said energetically and cheerfully.
“Are you challenging me, king of the north?” the Zacatec king asked, annoyed.
“Me challenging you? I thought you were the one who had challenged me from the beginning!” Huitzilopochtli said, making a confused gesture.
“Your acts as a clumsy and naive boy will not work on me,” Xólotl said, pointing at him with his staff.
“For a god who consumes so much human blood every day, it is impossible for you to maintain that kind of sanity,” he said.
“That is because you are weak, and I am strong,” the hummingbird god said calmly. “But it is understandable that you do not comprehend it. You are not on my level, Xólotl.”
“I am not on your level?” Xólotl asked furiously.
“I will show you why I am the king of Chicomóztoc!” the Zacatec king then shouted.
“Miktlantletl (Hell's Fire)!” Xólotl roared as he created a gigantic sphere of fire that seemed to be made of magma and hurled it at the god of the north.
However, Huitzilopochtli stopped it halfway without moving a single muscle.
“It is a good technique for getting a tan,” Huitzilopochtli said calmly. “But to call it ‘fire from the underworld,’ do you not think that is an exaggeration?”
Then Huitzilopochtli made a blue-and-red serpent appear in his right hand, coiling around his entire arm. The serpent had red eyes like bright rubies.
“Do you know this weapon? Xiuhcóatl?” the hummingbird god asked with an enormous smile.
“Why does someone like you have the legendary weapon of the Nahua people?” Xólotl asked in surprise.
“I found it in Chicomóztoc, inside a cavern,” Huitzilopochtli replied, but immediately fell silent and corrected himself.
“No. I could say that when I set foot in that sacred city, this weapon spoke to me and told me how to find it,” he clarified.
“Nonsense!” the Zacatec god replied. “I have controlled that city for years and was never able to find the weapon that would foretell the legendary king.”
“That is why I told you. I am the one the legend predicted,” the hummingbird god said with a smile.
Then Huitzilopochtli pointed his weapon at the gigantic ball of fire Xólotl had invoked and said quietly:
“Kuautlatoani (Emperor Eagle).”
The people in Tollan then saw a gigantic explosion completely destroy the mountains surrounding the Toltec city. Everyone was stunned by the immense power.
Ixchel, who was healing the wounded, then remembered that Tul had been the one who requested that she heal everyone.
“Kaansaj, I know it is bold of me to ask this, but I need you to heal all the wounded,” the rabbit goddess said while pressing her head to the ground before her teacher.
“Wait a moment, disciple. Are you suggesting that I heal our enemies as well?” the Maya goddess asked.
“Yes, kaansaj. I ask it with all my heart,” the rabbit goddess replied.
Ixchel looked with disdain at Cihuacóatl’s inert body, split into pieces, and made a grimace of indignation.
“All right, disciple,” the Maya moon goddess finally replied with a tired gesture. “You saved my life, and I owe you the favor.”
Then Ixchel looked at her disciple, who was showing a huge smile.
“But I will leave them for last!” she replied, annoyed, while raising her index finger.
“Thank you, kaansaj,” Tul replied, and immediately stood. “If you will excuse me, I have to heal my friends.”
Ixchel, who was healing Nanahuatzin, turned to look at the enormous explosion and understood that this power belonged to Huitzilopochtli.
“My little white rabbit, take good care of yourself,” the lunar goddess thought.