He took a deep breath, and his expression instantly relaxed. A sense of intoxication surged up, letting his thoughts drift with it. It was as if he were gradually rising, ascending above the Yun Tian. The memories of the past floated like clouds, gathering into faces deeply buried in his heart, yet smiling as they drifted away, leaving behind familiar yet strange greetings.
"...Little Xutel, you must remember, you are a descendant of Acamapichtli, of the Mexica Royal Family! You must inherit the glory of your ancestors and carry on our family legacy!"
The middle-aged father, clad in war clothes, shouted his teaching loudly in front of the Temple where the ancestors' relics were consecrated. The young Xutel nodded solemnly and earnestly.
"Father, I will never forget the glory of the ancestors!"
"Good!"
