The sun set in the west, with the evening glow reflecting off the mountains. The autumn on the Mexican Plateau is a deep green mixed with a hint of yellow, signaling the harvest. Swarms of birds were chased away by the farmers, hovering in the sky and eyeing the deep green cornfields. Meanwhile, the continuous camps were patrolled by samurais sternly, with the earth covered in deeply yellowing grass.
"May the Goddess of Harvest and Fertility bless us..."
Xiulote stood with his back to the Temple of the Goddess of Harvest, his face solemn like a samurai, and in his mouth a prayer with the devotion of the farmers. He stared at the deep red sky, clenching his hands with no place to rest them, his heart tense and anxious.
