The earthquakes had finally subsided, and the sky now looked bluish and gray. Tania’s immense power could no longer be felt. Since they had been inside the rain conjured by Susanoo, neither Rodrigo nor the eastern god had noticed what had occurred outside.

  Rodrigo still lay on the ground, badly wounded, though his injuries were beginning to heal. Above the young tannin, the totema continued to float, radiating a wind-based energy field.

  “Whence did that stone arrive?” Susanoo wondered, holding his sword defensively. “Could it truly have pierced Ares’s dimensional barrier?”

  Rodrigo slowly began to regain consciousness. He felt a strange familiarity with that energy, though he did not know why or from where. He opened his eyes and saw the stone.

  “What… is this?” Rodrigo asked.

  “Is it not thine ofuda—forgive me, thy totema—Rodrigo-san?” Susanoo replied with a question of his own.

  “I don’t know,” Rodrigo answered.

  Once Rodrigo’s wounds finished healing, the wind field vanished, yet the stone continued floating in midair.

  “Master, master… I have finally found you, master,” a voice echoed within Rodrigo’s mind.

  “Who are you? Who’s speaking to me?” Rodrigo asked, startled.

  “It is I, your servant Ehécatl. I have come from Ilhuicatl Iohtlatoquiliz to aid you,” the voice continued.

  “Wait—what are you talking about? I don’t understand,” Rodrigo said, confused.

  “We have little time. Pray, for now, wield my teotonli to defeat your enemy,” the voice urged.

  At that moment, the small totema shone intensely, and the voice proclaimed:

  “Ejekatl kiixkuikuilotia tetl,

  tetl atl itekomaj,

  atl ixpoliui, ejekatia.

  Tetl, ejekatl, atl.”

  (—The wind sculpts the stone, the stone is the cup of the water, the water escapes and is wind. Stone, wind, water— in Nahuatl. Poem by Octavio Paz.)

  A colossal tornado erupted, completely engulfing Rodrigo as the sky darkened. Violent winds tore through the valley, whipping Susanoo’s hair wildly.

  The eastern god merely smiled.

  The tornado split apart, the wind shooting skyward as the sky cleared once more.

  Rodrigo emerged transformed. He now wore the totema fully manifested: a conical helmet crowned his head, his hair rising and turning crimson. His mouth was covered by an elongated mask resembling a bird’s beak.

  His torso was protected by a breastplate bearing the image of a golden bird, while dark wings spread from his back. From his ears hung large green earrings adorned with white, blade-shaped feathers.

  His lower body was covered by a blue skirt tied with a belt marked by a spiral shell at its center. His feet bore green sandals with red feathers, and his arms were fitted with bracers.

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  A swirling vortex of wind formed beneath his feet as Rodrigo floated higher, no longer touching the ground.

  “Subarashii! Thou dost resemble a tengu, Rodrigo-san!” Susanoo exclaimed.

  The eastern god lunged to strike him, yet upon nearing, a force field formed purely of air currents repelled him violently, hurling him far away. Rodrigo did not even move.

  Susanoo rose and wiped the blood from his face, staring at Rodrigo, who still looked astonished.

  “Mizu no Yari (Water Spear)!” Susanoo cried, attempting once more to impale the young tannin. But the water spear shattered into droplets upon striking the invisible barrier. The droplets reformed into lances and tried again—futilely.

  Rodrigo raised his right hand and said:

  “Ejekauakki (Dry wind).”

  A blistering, scalding wind erupted instantly. Susanoo raised his guard as all the moisture in the ground—left by the rain he had summoned earlier—evaporated at once.

  The eastern god struggled to endure the torrent, but the skin on his arms began to burn and peel away.

  Unable to resist any longer, he was hurled skyward and slammed against the dimensional wall.

  Susanoo recovered mid-fall and landed on his feet.

  “Abunai! Without water, I cannot contend with my full might!” he cried in frustration, still shielding himself from Rodrigo’s searing wind.

  Drawing his katana, he slashed swiftly through the air, splitting the wind in two and smiling—but it was useless.

  The wind rejoined instantly and hurled Susanoo again with such force that he resembled a blazing meteor, the heat scorching him severely.

  “At my present strength, victory is unattainable,” Susanoo said, still resisting. “Yet, Rodrigo-san, I fear thou hast erred in thy calculations.”

  “I, too, am a Suisei (Mercury).”

  With limited movement, the eastern god drew a small golden dagger from within his gi and spoke solemnly:

  「吾が名は嵐の神、須佐之男命。此の地の上荒波之守護神なり。」

  (`Waga na wa arashi no kami, susanoomikoto. Kono chinoue aranami no shugoshin nari.' —My name is Susanoo-no-Mikoto, the god of storms. I am the violent power that protects the end of the world— in Nara Japanese, a very archaic Japanese language.)

  The sky darkened once more as rain fell again. Massive ocean waves rose behind Susanoo, enveloping him in a spiraling maelstrom of water.

  The sea vortex split apart, revealing Susanoo kneeling at its center.

  He now wore a pristine white armor with red cloth beneath. The armor resembled silk, and parts of it—such as the pauldrons and belt—fluttered upward as though shaped into horns.

  The full set included pauldrons, breastplate, tassets, gauntlets, and boots, all entirely white.

  Upon his brow rested a white diadem from which rose two corrugated blue horns. His eyes glowed blue, and his hair had taken on a greenish hue, strands of seaweed woven through it.

  The power of both gods was perfectly balanced: rain fell on one half of the battlefield, while Rodrigo’s scorching winds raged on the other.

  Both stared at each other with unwavering resolve.

  “This power is incredible… but I feel as though this totema seeks to control me. I must not allow it,” Rodrigo thought nervously.

  “Sā, ikimashō, Rodrigo-san. This time, thy heated wind shall not prevail against me,” Susanoo declared, charging forward at tremendous speed.

  But when he struck, Rodrigo vanished, leaving only a trail of wind. Susanoo searched desperately—then was struck from behind.

  The warrior of Yamato fell to his knees, turning back to see Rodrigo standing there, palm raised.

  “When did he move behind me?” he wondered.

  “Mizu no Yari!” Susanoo roared, hurling a massive spear of water—ten times larger than before. Within it swam carp-shaped water spirits.

  The attack missed.

  Rodrigo had vanished again.

  “Uso da!” Susanoo shouted furiously, spinning around—but saw nothing.

  From above, Rodrigo descended in a flying kick shaped like a tornado, smashing into Susanoo and tearing his armor apart. Susanoo slashed in response—but Rodrigo disappeared once more.

  “This Ryūjin… he possesses the power of teleportation,” Susanoo muttered, scanning the area in vain.

  “Sesejakatl (Winter wind)!” Rodrigo cried.

  A freezing wind burst forth, instantly encasing Susanoo in ice, leaving only a frozen statue locked in a combat stance.

  “I can’t believe the power of this…” Rodrigo whispered to himself.

  Ilhuicatl Iohtlatoquiliz is the sacred world of the Toltec gods.

  Tengu are evil spirits from Japanese folklore, similar to birds with anthropomorphic characteristics.

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