Early March, a warm breeze blows. This is the Gulf of Mexico coast, the best season with neither the strong winds from the Northern Continent's winter nor the Caribbean summer's violent typhoons. The Kingdom Fleet sails east, along the coast, calmly covering four hundred miles before entering a largely enclosed sandbar bay, arriving at extremely vast coastal lagoon.
"Chief Divine! Such a large lake?!"
Puap stands at the bow, looking around yet unable to see the end of the Great Lake. It is high tide, and the surging tide floods in through two openings in the bay, quickly transforming the coastal mudflats into a lake surface. Thousands of seabirds simultaneously take off from the food-laden mudflats, circling reluctantly. Huitu warrior looks up, seeing only vast expanses of wings soaring in the rising morning sun.
"Yo, yo yo!"
